The Lost Saint

“Dance with me,” he said, and then pulled me into the dancing throng.

It was a quick, pulsating song, the kind of music that swallowed you whole, and I couldn’t help being sucked into the gyrating motion of the crowd. Talbot danced with that same sort of commanding energy—not like a farm boy at all, more like he was made for this sort of music. Like he owned this dance floor. His body moved with the pulsing rhythm close to mine, our hands touching, and then not. My heart raced. I couldn’t help but stare into his piercing eyes. Almost like he held me in an Akh-like trance.

We danced two songs this way, but then the music shifted into something slower and more sensual. With a smooth, swift movement Talbot wrapped my arms around his neck and then placed his arms around my waist. He pulled me close, his hands pressing against the small of my back. I recognized the hungry glint in his eyes. It was the way Daniel used to look at me.

I felt a sudden tightness in my throat. I turned my head away and surveyed the crowd, wondering who we were supposed to be looking for. When I glanced back at Talbot, he still stared down at me with unblinking intensity.

“Aren’t we supposed to be watching out for the Shadow Kings?” I asked.

“We will. But I doubt they’ll be here for another hour or two.” His voice had a soft growl to it—almost like a contented purr.

“An hour or two? Why did we get here so early, then? And I thought we weren’t supposed to stand out.”

“What better way to blend in than to pretend we’re having fun?” Talbot’s large hands slid to my hips. He held me close against him. “You look great tonight, by the way. Kind of ‘spy chic’ or something. Perfect for kicking some demon butt later on.” He sighed and then nuzzled his nose against the top of my head. “Perfect night, don’t you think? We may even have time to grab a bite to eat from the bar before the SKs get here.”

I shivered, even though it was far from cold on the dance floor. I couldn’t help thinking that this would seem like the perfect night to someone like Talbot: a little dancing, a little dinner, and a little demon slaying for dessert. I thought about his pressed shirt, styled hair, and even the splash of musky cologne I could smell on his neck. I let my arms fall from his shoulders and took a step back. “Talbot, are we on a date?”

Talbot gave me a look like he thought I was totally insane. He dropped his hands from my hips. “Um, no. It’s called surveillance. We’re blending in.” He shoved his thumbs into his belt loops. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I thought you’d be up for playing the part.” Then he gave me a sheepish, dimpled grin. “But if this were a date, would that be so bad? We can make it one if you want.”

I sighed. “I have a boyfriend. You know that.”

“Then why isn’t he the one here with you, helping you?”

“It’s more complicated than that.… And you’re my mentor. I can’t cross that line if you’re going to be training me.”

Talbot’s shoulders dropped. He stared over my head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you. But this isn’t going to work if we’re not on the same page about—”

Talbot shook his head and laughed. He rocked back on his heels. “Oh, come on, I’m just teasing you, kid. You’re so self-absorbed. I’d say it was cute, but you’d probably think I was hitting on you.”

“Nice,” I said sarcastically, but I couldn’t help thinking he was just trying to cover.

Talbot laughed again. “We don’t have to dance if you have a problem with that. How about I go get us a couple of drinks and we can wait for the SKs over at one of the tables?”

“I don’t drink. Well, I mean, I drink … like water and stuff. But you know, I don’t drink.” Could I seem any more lame this evening?

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