Gideon meets my eye and the rage I see there mirrors my own. He nods once, flashing me a slow smile with a sliver of fang.
“You ladies should have seen Arabella’s theatre.” Gideon waves his arms dramatically, smoothly changing the subject. “It had this wild gold-and-crystal chandelier, velvet-lined booths, dancers dressed as Egyptian goddesses, Greek monsters, and Countess Bathory, and these creepy religious statues over the stage that would sometimes drip fake blood on the audience.”
“Excuse me, that wasrealblood,” I correct him. “I had to keep the vampire patrons coming back. And in the middle of all of this was poor innocent human Gideon, with no idea that every Upyr in the place wanted to suck his neck.”
“You were a human when you two met?” Winnie squints at Gideon in surprise.
“I was. Innocent and mortal and naive, although after a few visits to Arabella’s theatre, I could no longer claim any of those things.” Gideon’s wicked smile makes my fingers itch to slap him. “I wish you all could have seen it. La Petite Mort was exquisite. It makes my little enterprise at Sanctus look like a cheap student pub.”
“Oh yes, when are we going to get to visit your famous private Sanctus Club?” I allow my voice to drip with sarcasm as if I couldn’t care less what was inside.
Secretly, I want to know. There might be something in that club I can use against him. But I’m not going to ask. I want Gideon to invite me. I don’t understand why he hasn’t.
Arabella Lestrange believes that a door closed to her is a door that should be burned down.
“Yeah, we want to go to your secret club!” Komal bounces up and down.
“We promise we’ll behave. I’ll bring along my tarot cards and do readings for your guests,” adds Isis.
“I’ll make Alaric come along. He can complain about the noise, bore people’s ears off with long, in-depth discussions of sculpting techniques, and make us leave before ten pm so we can shag.” Winnie rubs her hands together in excitement.
“And Winnie can colour code all the stemware,” adds Mina. “I promise to get drunk, trip over things, and drag Heathcliff up on stage to sing karaoke. There is karaoke, right?”
“It’s not a karaoke kind of place. And I’m sorry, but no humans allowed unless you’re offering your neck.” Gideon licks his lips. “An offer I’d be foolish to refuse.”
“You’re not drinking from my friends,” I growl, placing myself between Winnie and Gideon.
“Not even if Arabella agrees to dance there?” Winnie flicks her gaze to me.
“Especiallynot then. I’d want her all to myself.” Gideon’s eyes ignite at the edges. The fire burns all the way through my ice-encrusted heart.
“I cannot believe you were a dancer.” Beth stares at the poster in disbelief.
“You said you worked in banking!” Isis cries.
I glare at her. “No, I said I workedbankers. And European royalty. And occasionally a vampire mobster or two. If you don’t live your life in danger of being burned by the church for lascivious and immoral acts, then are you really living?”
The Nevermore Coven crowd around me, pushing Gideon out as they pepper me with a million questions. Quiet panic rises in my chest. I don’t want the attention on me. Arabella Macquart is a woman from a century ago. I’m not her any longer, and I have very good reasons for ensuring she remains dead and buried. I have no intention of digging her up and making her dance for their amusement.
A wicked idea occurs to me; a way to distract from my past and inflict more pain where it’s deserved. I grab Gideon’s arm and drag him into the centre of the studio.
“Attention, everyone!” I clap my hands. People stop in the doorway, their heads turning back to me. “The grand opening isn’t finished yet. Since Gideon Blake is so community-minded, he’s agreed to demonstrate thatanyonecan enjoy one of Beth’s classes. Gideon is excited about awakening his divine feminine, aren’t you?”
Gideon’s grin wobbles. “Um, I don’t think I can—”
“Nonsense. A big, strapping man like you will have no trouble pole dancing.” I wrap his fingers around the pole and stamp my heel on the floor. “Now, spin!”
Gideon throws out his hips in an exaggerated grinding motion that has everyone laughing. “Like this?”
Damn him.I forgot that Gideon is practically immune to embarrassment. I kick his foot. “Point those toes, Gideon Blake. We are creating magic here, not impersonating a herd of elephants. Nowclimb.”
Gideon was definitely not listening when Beth explained the mechanics of climbing the pole because he leaps into the air and wraps his legs around the chrome stick like a spider monkey. His whole face goes white with terror as he realises that he has no idea how to untangle himself.
I am giddy with delight.
“Now, swing!” I demonstrate by executing two perfect, pointy-toe climbs to give myself some height, before grabbing the pole in both hands and gracefully swinging my legs out from the pole and landing in a seat with chrome between my legs. I lean back, arching into a graceful pose.
“Easy!” Gideon hugs the pole for dear life as he inches his way higher. Beth looks on nervously. This is not what we’re supposed to be doing on her opening night.
