Women with small boxes fastened on chokers walked by. "What are they wearing?" Néomi asked, a tad too loudly by the look on Mari's face. Each box had individual decorations or sayings painted on it.
"Voice modulators. The Sirenae are being polite," Mari explained. "If they sing, they could captivate all the unmated males here. Not very sporting."
One box read: "Yeah, you're welcome." Another read, "Boom! I got your boyfriend." Néomi laughed with delight. Sirens! Of course!
A group of elven-looking women strolled by, wearing nothing but gauzy skirts. Their chests were bare except for body paint styled in intricate leafy designs.
"Goody," Nïx muttered. "The dendrophiles."
"The dendro what?" Néomi said.
"Tree lovers - the tree nymphs."
Their obvious leader said, "Well, if it isn't Nucking Futs Nïx and the hex hack."
"Well, if isn't the hookers," Nïx replied blandly. "Oh, I'm sorry, nymphets, this isn't the orgy - that's down the road."
"Nïxie, every party is an orgy waiting to happen."
Nïx opened her mouth, then closed it, dragging Néomi and Mari away. "Well, you can't argue with reason, can you?"
And nymphs!
Almost at once, Néomi's excitement was tinged by a tug of disappointment. Murdoch had said that nymphs would be in attendance. These startlingly lovely women reminded her that Conrad might have one like them for his Bride.
Luckily, there were gorgeous males too, and soon Néomi, Nïx, and Mari were surrounded by a number. They were all huge. A couple were even taller than Conrad.
Néomi felt dwarfed, but they seemed to be making every attempt not to startle her, especially since Nïx had introduced her as "Néomi, the mortal." Néomi smiled in greeting, while furtively peering around them for a glimpse of the vampire.
"This is Uilleam and Munro," Nïx said, indicating a pair of Scottish twins who were roguishly handsome. "We just call them Hot and Hotter, or is it Hotter and Hot?" She shrugged. "They're Lykae. And here are the demons Cade and Rydstrom, also brothers - the ones I was telling you about."
"Nice to meet you, sweet," Cade said. But he seemed preoccupied, absently rasping the blond stubble over his jawline.
"It's a pleasure, Néomi." Rydstrom gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his remarkably green eyes.
The brothers' features were so alike, and yet their overall appearances were so dissimilar. Their bearings and even their accents differed. She could hear the colonial British in them, but Rydstrom's sounded more upper-class.
Rydstrom turned to Nïx. "I've been looking for you, Valkyrie."
"Oh, why? Did you find the one who seeks him in sleep?"
"As a matter of fact... " Rydstrom took her upper arm and guided her to the side.
"Help, help!" Nïx cried over her shoulder. "I'm being ravished by a demon!" When Néomi started after her - as if she could do something - Nïx mouthed, "I'm really not."
"Here's Bowen!" Mari said. He'd seemed to be following a scent. When he caught sight of Mari, he charged for her, gathering her in his arms.
After receiving a deep, seeking kiss that had Néomi fanning herself, Mari introduced him. He smiled at Néomi, then glowered at Cade, who returned the look. Intéressant.
The musicians she'd heard earlier began playing a melodic ballad with a heavy drumbeat that, of course, Néomi didn't recognize. But the song flooded over her. She could feel the percussion in her belly, and for the first time in eight decades she needed to dance.
"Go on and dance, Néomi," Mari said. "We'll wait right here. Just don't go too far."
Néomi nodded happily. At the fire, the music commanded her and she obeyed. With each second she grew more used to her body, recalling how she could coax it to move, to glide... .
Everything felt dreamlike. It seemed a night of magick.
Soon, she sensed she was being watched. As she spun, she spied glowing red eyes in the dark, following her every movement.
Conrad. Like a lion stalking a fawn.
This must be a hallucination.
She can't be real. Conrad couldn't process this. He'd wanted to go to her tonight. Over the last week, he'd ached to be able to touch her.
Now, like an offering, she was here for him. In flesh and blood, so alive. Somehow she was no longer a ghost, no more black-and-white. Her cheeks were flushed with pink, her lips as red as her short dress.
How could this change have happened?
She looked like a pagan dancing by the fire with her wild flowing hair. The way her body turned and swayed was decadent, wicked. "Tantsija," Conrad murmured.
As ever, when she moved, he grew hypnotized. But now instead of merely soothing his mind, her dancing made his body feel taut, stretched like a wire. She'd been beautiful as a ghost. Like this, she was beyond compare.
He could actually take that kiss that he'd burned for, could touch her full br**sts... . No, he couldn't - she surely hated him now.
Even across the distance, he could hear her heart pumping with excitement, which meant that she could bleed. Which meant that he could hurt her. Or kill her.
He'd fantasized about sucking at her neck. Would I ever be able to stop once I'd started?
The ease he'd felt with her because he couldn't harm her disappeared, replaced by dread.
And now his enemies could target her. Tarut had just escaped him moments ago. Conrad bit out a vile curse when his arm began to ache under his bandage. Because my most fervent dream just materialized. What he'd coveted most was dancing right before him.