“If Hank’s men check the club, and they’d be stupid not to since they’ll see the Tahoe and know we’re on foot, they’ll recognize me. The lights in the warehouse were on for a full five seconds before you dragged me out. Someone in that room had to have gotten a good look at me. I can try to hide in the bathroom, but if they start asking around, I won’t stay hidden long.”
“The warehouse you broke into is for new recruits. Sixteen or seventeen in human years and newly sworn, making them less than one in Nephilim years. I’m stronger than they are, and I’ve had a lot more practice when it comes to toying with minds. I’m going to put a trance on you. If they look at us, they’re going to see a guy in black leather chaps with a spiked choker, and a platinum blond girl in a corset and combat boots.”
Suddenly I felt a little light in the head. A trance. Was that how the mind-tricks worked? By enchantment?
Jev tipped my chin up, searching my eyes. “Do you trust me?” Whether or not I trusted him didn’t matter. The hard truth was, I had to. The alternative was facing down Hank’s men alone, and I could guess how that would end.
I nodded.
“Good. Keep walking.”
I followed Jev into a retired factory that now served as Bloody Mary’s nightclub, and he handled the cover charge. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the strobe light pulsing my vision between black and white. The interior walls had been knocked down, allowing for open space that at the moment was crammed with gyrating bodies. Ventilation was poor, and I was immediately hit by a wave of body odor mingled with perfume, cigarette smoke, and vomit. The clientele was a good fifteen years older than me, and I was the only person dressed in cords and sporting a ponytail, but Jev’s mind-tricks must have been working, because amid the sea of chains, leather, spikes, and fishnets, no one batted an eye in my direction.
We fought our way to the center of the crowd, where we could hide and still keep watch on the doors.
“Plan A is to stay here and wait them out,” Jev yelled at me over the throb of music. “Eventually they’ll have to give up and go back to the warehouse.”
“And plan B?”
“If they follow us in here, we’ll leave through the back exit.”
“How do you know there’s a back exit?”
“I’ve been here before. Not my top choice, but it’s a favorite when it comes to my kind.” I didn’t want to think about what his kind was. Right now, I didn’t want to think about anything but making it home alive.
I glanced around. “I thought you said you could mind-trick everyone. So why do I get the feeling people are staring?”
“We’re the only two people in the room not dancing.”
Dancing. Men and women who bore an impressive resemblance to Kiss band members were head-banging, shoving, and licking each other. A guy with chain suspenders holding up his jeans climbed a ladder affixed to the wall and hurled himself into the crowd. To each his own, I thought.
“May I have this dance?” Jev asked with a sympathetic tug of his mouth.
“Shouldn’t we be finding a way out of here? Devising a couple more backup plans?” He clasped my right hand, drawing me against him in a slow dance that was at odds with the racing music. As if reading my mind, he said, “They’ll stop staring soon. They’re too busy competing for most extreme dance move of the night. Try to relax. Sometimes the best offense is a good defense.”
My heart rate picked up then, and not because I knew Hank’s men had to be close by. Dancing this way with Jev tore down any chance I had at holding my feelings in check. His arms were strong, his body warm. He wasn’t wearing cologne, but there was an intriguing hint of fresh-cut grass and rainwater when he pulled me close. And those eyes. Deep, mysterious, unfathomable. Despite everything, I wanted to lean into him and … just let go.
“Better,” he murmured into my ear.
Before I could respond, he spun me out. I’d never danced like this before, and Jev’s skil at it surprised me. Street dancing I might have guessed, but not this. The way he danced reminded me of another time and place. He was confident and elegant … smooth and sexy.
“Do you think they’re going to buy that a guy in tacky leather chaps dances like this?” I scoffed when he twirled me back into his embrace.
“Keep it up, and I’ll put you in the chaps.” He didn’t smile, but I sensed an undercurrent of amusement. Glad one of us found something about the situation remotely funny.
“How do the trances work? Like a glamour?”
“It’s more complicated than that, but same end result.”
“Could you teach me?”
“If I taught you everything I know, we’d need a considerable amount of time alone together.” Unsure if he was suggesting anything, I said, “I’m sure we could keep it … professional.”
“Speak for yourself,” he said in that same steady tone that made it hard to guess his intentions.
His hand was on my back, holding me against him, and I realized I was more nervous than I’d originally thought. I found myself wondering if the connection between us had been this electric before. Had being near him always felt like playing with fire? Warm and bright, intense and dangerous?
To keep our conversation from treading further into uncomfortable territory, I laid my head against his chest, even though I knew it wasn’t safe. Nothing about him felt safe. My entire body hummed under his touch, a completely foreign and riveting sensation. The sensible part of me wanted to dissect my emotions, overthinking and overcomplicating my reaction to Jev. But a more physical and immediate part was tired of allowing logic to chase me in circles, constantly wondering about that gap in time, and just like that, I shut off the switch to my brain.
Piece by piece, I let Jev break down my defenses. I swayed and dipped against him, letting him set the rhythm. I was overly warm, my head clogged with smoke, and the moment began to feel unreal, only making it easier to believe that later, if guilt or regret haunted me, I could pretend it never happened. While I was here, trapped in the club, trapped in Jev’s eyes, he made it too easy to succumb.