There was also an overflowing chocolate fountain for the eager guests, and a classical band played on the stage.
The middle of the speakeasy had been transformed into a dance floor. Elegant couples moved in graceful time to one another. He looked toward the bar, but a man was preparing drinks. Not Alice.
“Hurt her, and I will fucking kill you.”
The warning was given quietly.
Saint turned back to Logan.
Logan grinned cheerfully at him, as if he hadn’t just issued a death threat. His words had been so low that Saint knew no one else had overheard them.
“And she won’t have to ask, of course,” Logan continued in the same, low tone. “I’ll do it for fun.”
“Do you often kill for fun?”
Logan’s grin merely stretched.
“Do you often kill for her?” Saint pressed. “Because someone has hurt her, and you’re looking to get payback? Is that what happened with the other men in her life? They hurt her, so you jumped in to handle them?”
Logan took a step closer to Saint. “Why act like there are no sins on your soul?” A wry shake of his head. “We both know that is not the case. And it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you can’t make up for what was done before.”
Saint felt a faint tickle along the back of his neck. Logan looked entirely too pleased with himself. He knows who I am. Well, big damn deal.
Someone tapped Saint on the shoulder. He spun around.
And almost didn’t breathe.
Alice smiled at him. Her hair has sleek and straight, parted in the middle and sliding down to make her cheekbones look even sharper than before. Her eyes did that peculiar luminous thing where they looked even more gold than normal topaz, probably because the dress she wore was a tantalizing mix of gold and black. Her lips were red, a dark, lush red, and she stared at him as if…as if she was actually glad to see him.
Impossible, of course. A lie. But…
I’m glad to see her. Because she was his prey. His target. Because this was another chance to interrogate her. Because…
“Would you like to dance with me?” Alice asked him.
He could feel eyes on them. Saint was pretty sure everyone in that speakeasy watched him—or, rather, her. “Can’t think of anything I’d like to do more.” He reached for her hand. Curled his fingers around hers and was oddly aware of the fragility in her fingers. Such a delicate hand.
She was delicate. He knew her mother had been a ballerina, back before she’d fallen in love with Alice’s father and become his assistant. For years, she’d worked with him, using her small form to easily escape and create illusions. Alice was built along similar lines. As he drew her onto the dance floor, and his left hand went to her waist he had the odd feeling that…
I need to touch her with her care. Can’t hold her too tight. Can’t bruise her.
So he kept his hold gentle. One hand on her waist. One hand gripping hers.
“We’re not at prom,” Alice said, and he could hear the hint of laughter in her voice. “No chaperones are going to tell you that you’re too close or that you’re holding me inappropriately.”
“Wouldn’t know about that. Never went to prom.” Not exactly his scene.
“Really? Hmm. Neither did I.” She tugged her hand free of his, but only so she could then place both of her hands around his neck. She wore heels again. Incredibly high heels but she moved with ease on the dance floor. “Wrap your arms around me,” she said.
He did because it was what he wanted. He pulled her flush against him. Loved the way she felt against him. As if she fit. A lie. No one ever fit him. No one could handle the darkness he carried.
Alice has plenty of darkness.
“I won’t bite,” Alice promised him in that husky, seductive voice that made him think of a wrecked bed and silken limbs wrapped around him.
“I will.”
She gave a little jolt. Then laughed. “Promises, promises.”
His hold tightened on her a little bit more. “Yes.” She smelled just as good tonight. No, even better. He could all too easily imagine stripping off her clothes. Kissing her skin. Tasting her, everywhere.
“Is seducing me part of your master plan?”
Her words pulled him from the fantasy that had taken root in his head.
“Is it like, Ice Breaker 101 to seduce your prey and get close to her?”
He maneuvered her away from the other dancers. Didn’t ease his hold at all. “There is no Ice Breaker 101.”
“Then maybe it’s just your standard procedure. Do you always try to seduce your marks?”
Now he laughed. “Most of the marks I chase don’t look quite like you. They tend to be bastards with brutal fists who have rap sheets that stretch a mile long. They’re violent and dangerous, and someone needs to toss them in a cage so that they can’t ever get out.”
She looked up at him. “And that someone is you?”
“Some days, it is.”
Alice held his stare. He realized that they weren’t moving any longer. No more gentle swaying. They’d stopped, on the far side of the dance floor, and were just gazing at one another.
Her tongue swiped over her lower lip. “Is that what you want to do with me? Toss me in a cage so that I can’t ever get out?”
He could think of a thousand things he wanted to do to her in that instance, but locking her away…no. Not at the top of his list.
Unless she did it. Fuck, but he didn’t want her to be guilty. The thought shocked him, and Saint let her go.
“I will take that as a yes,” Alice murmured. “Pity. I wanted to do other things with you. Locking you up wasn’t on my agenda. But you know what? Maybe it will be fun.”
What?
She eased from his grasp, but then surprised Saint by taking his hand. “Come with me.”
He had the unsettling idea that he just might follow her anywhere. The thought pissed him off. Was that how it had been for those other fools? They’d gotten drawn in by her? Hadn’t cared that she was taking them straight to hell?
He was better than this. Stronger. He didn’t get taken in by a pretty face, and lust sure as hell didn’t rule him. Yes, he wanted Alice. His desire for her worried him because it was dark and heated and too primitive. Almost savage. He had never reacted this way before. Maybe because…He’d always held back with other lovers. Been afraid of frightening them if they saw him for who—what—he really was.
But instinct told him that he didn’t need to hold back with Alice.
Without another word, she led him away from the crowd. Down another corridor, this one through a hallway that curved, and into a backroom. There was a keypad near the door. A modern bit of technology that stood out in the hallway that seemed to have been frozen in time. She tapped in a code, and the door opened. “I only bring a select few back here.” She sent him a glance that held too much mystery. “Consider yourself a VIP.” She pushed the door open wider. Stepped inside.
He wasn’t sure what he expected but…
Magic.
That was what he found. A room filled with magic. Or rather, filled with old magic tricks and props. A black table held a top hat. Gleaming, silver rings surrounded the hat. To the right, he recognized a water torture cell, minus the water. A brown trunk had been pushed into the corner of the room, and a large, red box—one with what appeared to be swords cutting through its center—rested close to the trunk.