"Okay," she said with a nod. "I'll do it."
"Thanks, doll."
Valerius rubbed his eyebrow as the blonde woman left them. "You know a lot of interesting people."
She laughed at him. "This from someone who takes orders from a man who's been walking around for almost twelve thousand years, not to mention that you actually do know the daughter of Count Dracula. I don't want to hear it from you, buddy."
She had a point with that.
"Could you relax?" She tugged his coat collar up before she untied and then started mussing his hair.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to make you blend in. It would certainly help if you didn't look like you were constipated right now."
"I beg your pardon?"
"C'mon," she said, brushing her hand against his lips as she tried to smooth them. "Stop curling your lip and looking like you're afraid you're going to catch something. It's not like you can die or anything."
"You're the one who should be worried."
She made a rude noise at him. "This from a man whose culture actually invented bulimia. Tell me, how many times did you visit the old vomitorium anyway?"
"We didn't all do that, thank you."
"Yeah, right." She drifted off.
Valerius hastened his steps to catch up to her. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone with the strangeness of the people gathered in this place. Granted, they couldn't hurt him, but they were disturbing nonetheless. He couldn't imagine why Acheron preferred to "hang" at a place such as this. It was so loud that he couldn't hear himself think. The lights played havoc with his eyesight, and the skeleton and bat decor...
It just wasn't where he would spend his spare time if he had any choice in the matter.
But Tabitha blended in with an eerie kind of conformity. This was her environment. Her people and culture.
There was nothing stodgy about anyone here.
She led him toward the dance floor, where she was hailed by a woman with an extremely tall, electric blue mohawk.
Valerius watched in horror as Tabitha dashed across the floor to dance with the woman and what appeared to be a man dressed in shiny plastic that was held to his body by large silver buckles. The man's eyes and lips were painted black and his hair looked as though it had never been brushed.
Tabitha didn't seem to notice as she swayed to the loud, thrashing music. She was lovely.
She didn't care who watched her. There was no such thing as decorum or rules that held her back.
She merely was.
And he loved her for that.
Laughing at something the man said, she swooped low to the floor, then came up with a limber rhythm that ignited more fantasies than he would have thought possible. Every masculine part of him was aware of her. Aware of the softness of her face, the way the lights made her skin luminescent.
The way her body moved like liquid to the pounding beat.
She looked at him then. The minute her blue eyes met his, his groin jerked with needful anticipation.
Smiling, she crooked a finger for him to join her.
Valerius actually took a step forward before he caught himself. Dancing wasn't something he did in public. As a Roman, his father had thought it crass and lowly, and had forbidden all of them to partake of it. As a Dark-Hunter, he'd never thought to learn.
Unwilling to embarrass her before her friends, he stepped back.