“Then no one would fault you for having a bumbling oaf of a mentor.”
That drew a snort from her. When she looked up at him, truly looked at him, his whole world narrowed.
“You’ll be here, at the end of all this, right?”
Doubt. It was strange to hear it in her voice, and he wanted it gone. “I’m not going anywhere.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, warming her. “We’re doing this together, remember?”
Kallia nodded, less shakily. “Yes.”
She looked at his mouth right as Daron looked to hers, his eyes grazing to her neck where he could almost feel her straining pulse beating beyond its limits. He laced their fingers together, not caring what others would think. What rumors would spread, what stories would be written. Before he lost his nerve, he led her through the open space between two mirrors so they could take their place on stage.
As the welcoming applause washed over them, Daron avoided looking at his reflection. Just like Kallia they focused on each other instead. And for a small, quiet moment in the din of the cheers, it was as though it were only them. Like a practice, at the Ranza Estate.
At her wink, the weight lifted off him. He made quick work of his jacket before throwing it to the ground, pulling out the scrap of fabric Aaros had passed to him once the room hushed.
“Tonight, we have prepared a very interesting dance for you,” Kallia declared to the audience. Bold, without a trace of worry in her voice. He both feared and admired the masks she could so easily don. “One that could turn deadly, if we take even one wrong step.”
With that, she thrust her hand out, letting her fingers beckon toward the ground at their feet. A flame sprouted like a flower, before it grew and spread around the mirrors as if oil drenched the floors. The fire built into a blaze, surrounding the floor inch by inch, teasing nearer and nearer to them until there was no way out without burning.
Given Glorian’s aversion to fire, the gasps and shrieks in the crowd were unsurprising.
“To those who’ve danced over flames before,” she added, lifting the black fabric over her head for all to see. “Have you tried it, wearing a blindfold?”
Kallia made sure to run her fingers over the fabric to confirm there were no slits cut, that it was not sheer enough to peek through. Confirmation and credibility.
After Daron tied the fabric over her eyes, he guided her into position only breaths away from him. The fire licked near their legs. Sweat began to drip from his temple. There were only a few times during their practices when Daron had nearly gotten burned, but Kallia never allowed it. Even blindfolded, she could anticipate her mistakes before they happened, and would pull him back before the fire could so much as graze him.
One more dance among the flames.
The lights of the ballroom dimmed, before blacking out entirely, the sea of fire the only illumination over the floor.
And all of a sudden, Daron became like the dark, transported by shadow at the first low swell of a song rising in the air.
49
Kallia was grateful for the blindfold. She could sink more easily into the music, into the movements that came more from muscle memory than sight.
Blacking out the rest of the lights around the ballroom was an effective touch, bringing in a reel of gasps from the guests. There was nowhere else to look but them, and though she wished to rip off her mask for the chance to see, it was a relief that she couldn’t.
Behind the blindfold, there were no mirrors.
Only Demarco. Only fire.
Each step they took was the only area untouched by flames, but they had to keep moving. Fire may part, but it was never content to stay back.
The low, sultry rise of strings reached into the air, tightening every touch. She hooked her arms around Demarco’s neck, leverage for when he lowered her in an agonizingly slow split. The usual burn ran up her thighs as he lifted her back to facing position, when she summoned a handful of flames from the floor and unleashed them into the air. Their heat teased around her—around them both—while he spun her out of harm’s way. One sharp turn after the other, to avoid this added obstacle.
Like her audition, she thought, wishing she could see the judges now. Their audience. Each time a swirling orb of fire grazed