Wicked
Page 52

 Jennifer L. Armentrout

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But as we walked further in, I began to make out more of the details of those in the shadowy enclaves surrounding the dance floor and the high tables.
I gaped as I stood on the polished floors.
There were mortals in those shadows, their bodies entwined together on the lush couches, a flash of hands moving and glimpses of flesh. But there weren't just mortals. There were fae among them. Their pale blue eyes shined eerily bright in the low light, their skin a beautiful shade of silver. Their hands and bodies moved among the mortals.
Ren lowered his mouth to my ear. "You see what I'm seeing?"
I nodded, unable to speak. My skin felt hot as I stared into the shadows. Some of them . . . they weren't just kissing or touching. Oh no, they were doing much, much more.
"They are everywhere." His hand stayed on my back. "Jesus."
Dragging my stare from the unexpected porn show, my gaze flitted across the dance floor and to the bar beyond. Ren was right. Some were at the bar drinking. Others were on the dance floor. A few lingered on the staircase leading to the second floor.
They were everywhere and there were so many of them. At least thirty.
Instinctively, I knew Ren had stumbled onto something major when he followed Marlon to the club. "I've never seen so many together."
"Me neither," he said grimly. Straightening, his hand slipped off my back and found my hand. He threaded his fingers through mine.
Ren led the way around the dance floor, and I did everything in my power not to look into the shadows. We edged around a group of college-aged girls crowding a table, and a fae stepped out of the shadows, directly in front of us.
My breath caught, and my free hand tingled with the need to grab the stake. Ren's hand tightened around mine as the fae looked us over with pale eyes before moving on to the group of girls.
Ren and I exchanged a long look as we continued to the bar. If we could hear anything, it would be there, but as I glanced at the stairwell, my heart lurched in my chest.
"Shit," I hissed, drawing to a halt.
"What?" Ren turned to me.
Turning to the side, I let my hair fall forward, shielding my face. "It's him. The fae who shot me. He's coming down the staircase."
Ren looked over his shoulder and muttered a curse. Hiding my face wasn't a great shield considering my hair probably gave my ass away. "He hasn't been in here this whole week," he growled. "Dammit."
This was bad. The moment the ancient saw me, our cover would be blown to pieces, and with so many fae being inside the club, I knew we wouldn't make it out. I started to reach for my stake just as Ren started walking toward the shadowy recesses surrounding the floor. My brain balked at the idea considering what was going on in those shadows, but it was either that or throw down in the middle of a fae infested club.
Staring straight ahead, I didn't dare look at the couches we walked past, but I heard the sounds—the soft moans and guttural groans, the panting of many breaths and sharp inhales, the echoes of flesh against flesh mingling with the steady thrum of music.
Oh dear lord in heaven . . .
Couples danced near the couches—uh, on second thought, I wasn't sure what they were doing was dancing. My step faltered as Ren suddenly stopped. He turned to me, and still holding my hand, he hauled me forward against his chest. Throwing my hand to his shoulder, I steadied myself just as he let go of my hand and circled his arm around my waist, sealing our bodies together—front to front.
Immediately aware of the hard breadth of his chest, I stiffened against him. "What the . . .?"
Ren's other hand curled in my hair, scooping it to the side as he lowered his mouth to my ear once more. "He's on the dance floor with another fae."
I swallowed, wondering how well the ancient could see into the shadows. "Crap."
"Yep."
My hands curled around the material of his soft shirt. "What do we do now since this was your genius idea?"
"You agreed."
"Ren," I seethed.
"Blend in." He pressed his cheek against mine, startling me. "We just blend in."
"Blending in means having sex," I retorted. "Or haven't you noticed that's what's happening around us?"
"Oh, I've noticed." The hand in my hair tightened, and I gasped as his lips brushed the skin of my neck. "Dance, Ivy."
Dance? Did it seem like this was the appropriate moment to dance? I wanted to push Ren down and kick him in the side, but as I dared to peek at the people near us, I had to admit that dancing was better than just standing here. At a quick glimpse, the couples did look like they were dancing. Maybe some were.
Closing my eyes, I tightened my hands along his shoulders until Ren let out a low growl that was part warning, part something else entirely. The last thing I needed to do was dance with Ren. Or was it? A low hum of excitement trilled through my veins, but I blamed that on adrenaline. I opened my eyes, focusing on the tan stretch of skin exposed through the vee of his shirt.
I started to dance.
My pulse skyrocketed as I swayed my hips, and it was as awkward as a three-legged cat trying to walk a tightrope. Dipping my chin, I hid my flaming face. Between my jerky movements and the indecently loud sighs surrounding us, I wanted to pitch myself in front of a bus.
"He's still talking to the fae." Ren's voice was low and surprisingly soothing in my ear. "He hasn't noticed us. You're doing good, but I know you can do better."