“Kelly is gay, and Uncle Tag says you aren’t.” She said it really fast to get it all out. Unwilling to leave her friend at the mercy of someone her uncle warned her about without checking to make sure he was really safe. He had no doubt, since she was related to Tag, that if she thought Asil would hurt her friend, she’d throw herself into the fray.
He liked her. A lot. He had always liked Tag, too.
“We have already established that I prefer women and he prefers men,” Asil assured her. “But I have no problem dancing with a man, because my reputation is such that pretty young women such as yourself and also big, scary men like your uncle tremble in fear of me. Dancing with a man is unlikely to change that—and I like dancing.”
She frowned.
“He’s funny,” said Kelly. “You have to watch for it, but he’s pretty funny underneath the Castilian manners and straight face.”
Asil took pity on her. “Your friend is safe with me.”
She took in a deep breath that threatened to release parts of her that the Elizabethan dress put under a lot of pressure. “Really safe?”
“Safer than anyone else here,” said Asil, showing her his teeth. He might like her, but he didn’t like her questioning his word.
“Okay,” said Meg. She let out a breath in a huff of air. “Good.”
A fanfare sounded through the speakers to draw their attention to a stage that had been erected against one wall.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” muttered Kelly as he tugged Asil toward the stage—and away from Meg—by tucking a handunselfconsciously in the crook of his arm. “I’m sorry about my friend.”
Asil realized that his wolf had decided he liked the boy, because he allowed them to be led without objection. He felt the constant tension of control relax a fraction.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured. “Who a man’s friends are says a lot about him. She knew who and what I was—and still tried to save you from me. She is brave and loyal. No one needs to apologize for such a friend.”
Beside him, Kelly straightened a little. “She did throw herself in front of the bus, didn’t she? Even if the bus was already stopped.”
“I am not a bus,” murmured Asil as someone stepped up to a microphone and delivered some canned welcome speech. “A chariot. A Porsche. But not a bus.”
“See,” said Kelly to no one Asil could discern. “He’s funny.”
The speaker nattered on for a few minutes more before announcing the opening dance.
They had never danced together before, and it was obvious that many of the couples on the floor had practiced together and danced a preset choreography. But Kelly did indeed know how to dance, and they soon progressed beyond the simpler steps into some more daring, complex…even melodramatic moves. There were a few stumbles here and there—it was very obvious that Kelly was used to leading, no matter what he’d said.
But when the music ended and they froze for that last dramatic moment, chest to chest, face to face—Asil realized he was really having fun. More fun than he’d had in a very, very long time.
As they stepped away from each other, exchanging grins, Asil wondered: When had he forgotten how much fun dancing was? How much fun flirting was? Even if, perhaps especiallybecause, both people knew it was not going further than that?
In order to properly repay the people or person (he was not ruling out someone using the royal “we” to obfuscate their identity), Asil was beginning to believe he might have to buy a gift instead of dealing out vengeance. Though he had no intention of letting his benefactors know it until the whole thing was over. Let them fear his wrath for a while longer.
“Hey, Kelly, is this the date?” A young man (Asil had not seen anyone who looked to be over twenty-five) came up to them, swaggering a little. He was the type to impress people under thirty—big, athletic, handsome. “It worked out? Awesome. You owe me one.”
“This is Trace,” said Kelly.
Trace looked over his shoulder at the entrance, missing Asil’s initial reaction to the introduction. That was probably for the best.
“Latecomers,” Trace said with disapproval. “And they’re ours. Everyone was supposed to be here to help with the opening. Next time I’ll tell them the party starts an hour before the doors open.”
He stepped around Kelly and headed for the front door. Asil glanced at the incoming party, then put his back to them.
“It seems, unusually, I was wrong.”
“About what?” asked Kelly.
“Do you know the very young-looking man in the tuxedo who just came in?” he asked Kelly.
The boy frowned. “Yeah. That’s Bruce. He’s a cousin, or something like that, of Shawna’s—one of the other members of our group. He’s a freshman, I think, and he’s been coming to the LARPs since school started this fall. He’s not a good player, mostly he just sits around and watches us. I expect that he’ll find his own group of friends and quit coming. Why?”
