Tempest Rising
Page 17

“You did not choose this song,” he said, laughing.
“It’s one of my all-time favorites and I thought it was fairly appropriate, given the circumstances,” I said. “And if I have much more of this,” I held up my champagne glass, “you might get the chance to see my best one-legged hopping, air-guitaring, spontaneous riff.”
Ryu was grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Garçon!” he cried, holding up a single finger. Marcus obligingly fetched another bottle of bubbly.
I started to protest, but Ryu shook his head decisively. “It’s a good night,” he said. “And you need a good night. Anybody can see that you’re wound tight as a guitar string.”
I accepted another glass without complaint, and we clinked another toast. “To the Pig Sty,” he said, giving me that damned wink. “To the Sty,” I echoed, as we drank together.
We sat, not speaking, for a moment. I was enjoying the music and the taste of my third-ever glass of champagne. I don’t know what Ryu was thinking. Then Miss Carol started talking to me about the bookstore, and we talked about how great Grizzie and Tracy were, and different books she wanted to order. She recommended to me a few things that were already lurking in my dirty drawer—presents from Grizzie. I promised her I’d read them, but kept my fingers crossed. Ryu chatted with Marcus, while Sarah took over from him for a bit, and I think they were talking about me because they kept glancing over to make sure Miss Carol had my attention.
Another favorite song of mine, the Killers’ cover of “Romeo and Juliet,” came on the juke box when Russ stood up and held out a hand. “Will you dance with an old dog?” he offered, very politely.
I didn’t know how to react, so I just said yes. He limped out on to the dance floor with me, and we took a very formal waltz position. The song wasn’t really right for slow dancing, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him. As we moved awkwardly around the floor, him gimping so badly I felt like I was more his crutch than his dance partner, we talked about the morning he found Peter’s body. He told me that he’d tried to distract Mr. Flutie, but there was only so much a dog in a sling could do when his master had spotted a dead body on the path. I apologized for making things difficult. I’d gotten the distinct impression they’d rather the authorities not become involved. He shrugged, and told me not to worry—such things were always handled with the minimum of fuss.
I had thought of something while we were dancing, and I said so.
“Fire away, child.” Russ smiled benevolently at me.
“Rockabill isn’t a very big place, but there seems to be a fair proportion of, um, your kind of folk living here. Are there that many of you, or is Rockabill special or something?” I was thinking about Buffy’s Sunnydale, and wondering if Rockabill was a Hellmouth. Which would explain Stuart and Linda.
“Oh, no, Rockabill is just Rockabill,” the dachshund-man replied. “And there are proportionally very few of us left anymore. But those of us who live among humans usually prefer either large cities or places like Rockabill that have small native populations but busy tourist seasons. In the former, you are another anonymous city-dweller; in the latter, you have a lot of contact with people at different times of the year and yet you have fewer locals to deal with. Many of our kind are rather territorial, as well, so we have to spread out. But Nell is very generous in sharing her territory and her protection, so we’ve got a fairly large congregation here in Rockabill. Does that make sense?”
I thought it over, and yes, it did make sense. So much for Linda and Stuart being demon spawn, I thought, regretfully.
When the song was over, Russ gave me a gentlemanly bow and thanked me for the dance. “Thank you, Mister, er… Mister Russ,” I finished uncertainly.
Sarah interrupted our awkward exchange as Pink’s “U & Ur Hand” blared forth. “Can you swing dance?” she asked as she took my hands in hers.
“No, sorry.” I shook my head.
“Too bad,” she said. “Just try to follow and hold on to your hat!”
With that she swirled me around in a perfect twirl. Sarah was incredibly strong. Which was good, since I was doing my best to fall on my face. But between her patient tutelage, and her being able to lift me up and set me down wherever she wanted, pretty soon we were doing what was, for me at least, a pretty good approximation of a swing dance.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun. I loved the song we were dancing to and I couldn’t think of anything better than the feeling of moving my body to one of my favorite songs playing over a jukebox so loudly that the speakers rattled. It was made even better by the fact that Sarah was such a strong partner. I felt like I was dancing well enough not to be embarrassed, so it was just unmitigated pleasure. I was panting and aching by the time we were done, but I didn’t want the song to end. When it finally finished I couldn’t help it, I threw my arms around her and said, “Thank you,” like she’d just saved my life.
She pinched my cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “We’ve been waiting to have you in our bar like this for a long time. It feels good.” She gave me another little hug.
“Well, I need to get back to work,” she said, pulling back. “And it looks like there’s someone trying to cut in.”
I turned around to find Ryu waiting behind me, holding my champagne flute. I took a grateful gulp, having discovered that swing dancing was thirsty work. He took my glass and set it down on the bar, and then extended his hand.
“Am I on your dance card?” he asked.
“Hmm, let me check,” I teased. I think I was slightly drunk, as flirting was suddenly coming a lot easier.
“Well?” A dark eyebrow arched questioningly over a golden eye and my heart skipped a beat.
“I guess I can squeeze you in. For a quick one.”
He glided toward me and suddenly I was in his arms. Just like that, I wondered, shocked by the ease of it all. Then I realized that the champagne probably had my inhibitions in a head lock.
The song that was playing was one of the sexiest I could think of: David Gray’s “Debauchery” from his album A Century Ends. It’s about a rather inebriated couple who meet on a ferry, go to his house for more drink, and have sex in front of his gas fire. It sounds awful, but it’s both funny and really erotic at the same time. Plus David growls like an animal at one point, and my knees go weak every time I hear it.
Ryu and I danced like kids at a school prom: my arms over his shoulders and his around my waist. I could feel every inch of his body against mine as if it were electrified.
One thing I couldn’t feel, however, was his power. He wasn’t glamouring us. Instead, he was dancing with me, in public, and letting everyone see. I was so flattered that he wouldn’t mind being associated with the town crazy that I didn’t warn him it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering Stuart lurked.
Ryu raised his eyebrows as David Gray sang of stripping his new ladyfriend. Then Ryu laughed as David sang of encouraging her with that classic enticement: copious amounts of vino.
“Nice choice,” he said, holding me a little tighter.
“Yes. I like it. A lot.” Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I certainly do like it…
I pressed my cheek against his chest so I didn’t have to look at his face. His beautiful, beautiful face.
But when I heard his heartbeat pounding just as hard as mine, I raised my head again. The sound of his heart hadn’t helped to calm my hormones one bit.
I sought frantically for something to talk about. There was one thing that had been bothering me…
“Ryu?”
“Yes?” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear.
“You said that you… that vampires, that baobhan sith, I mean, feed off either fear or lust. Does that mean that you prey, like really prey on humans, even if you don’t kill them?”
Take that, hormones! I thought, exultantly. Imagining Ryu pursuing terrified women through dark city streets was better than a cold shower.
“Some of us do,” he admitted. “But emotions flavor the blood. So it becomes a matter of preference, like preferring red or white wine. I don’t enjoy the taste of fear.”
I mulled over the implications of what he’d just said, feeling my knees weaken. And David Gray hadn’t even growled yet. Lust it is, then, my libido exulted.
One of Ryu’s hands moved lower, gently stroking the small of my back. He was sort of massaging me, sort of bringing my hips closer to him.
The song helped him along, as David Gray urged his own lover closer in the song. And then David growled. David’s growl always got to me.
Ryu’s other hand was brushing my hair away from my face, and then stroking over my cheek. Then he was supporting the back of my neck as he tilted my face up toward his…
For a second I wondered if I should resist, if I was doing the right thing. But he was funny, and beautiful, and so different, and he knew my secrets and didn’t care… I studied Ryu’s face, looking for an answer to a question I couldn’t even articulate.