Page 12 of Ride Me

“I’m so sorry, Allegra. I didn’t know it was going to happen. It usually doesn’t. I would never—”

He broke off when Michelle grabbed her arm, a dangerous expression on her face. “Fine. Perfect. We’re all sorry. We need to go, Allegra. I brought your things from the table, so don’t even think about arguing.”

Where was Ben? Hadn’t she just seen Ben? Allegra was still confused when Michelle took her hand, nearly dragging her away from the solemn café owner, who was standing silent and still as a statue amid the mass of writhing bodies.

She wanted to talk to him. She didn’t want to leave him when he looked so lost.

It wasn’t until they’d left the club that she stumbled, sharp needles of pain stabbing her from knee to hip. She forced them to a stop at the corner, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her cane hard. “It didn’t hurt when I was dancing with Rousseau. How did I not notice that?” She’d lived with the pain for so long, it was hard to imagine that she wouldn’t be aware of its absence. “Are you going to tell me what just happened, Chelle?”

Michelle kept looking over her shoulder, watching the door to the club as though she were worried they might be followed. “I told you, Allegra. How many times? I warned you that Rousseau was trouble. But you decided to follow Adair’s advice instead.”

She sounded incredibly put out about that last bit.

“You didn’t seem that upset with him a few minutes ago,” she muttered mulishly, limping behind her.

She thought she saw Michelle’s shoulders tighten, but she couldn’t be sure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Allegra limped behind her, mind racing. She would suspect someone of slipping something in her drink if she’d had a chance to order one.

Maybe Rousseau’s big secret with women had to do with hypnotism. That might explain the illusory orgy she’d just witnessed. Participated in.

Would it explain why his eyes were glowing? How he read your mind? Or the fact that no one has ever been able to hypnotize you before?

There weren’t that many logical explanations, but there had to be one, damn it. And if there was, she needed to find it before she lost her mind.

“Define trouble for me. Be specific. No more beating around this bush.”

Michelle swore under her breath. “I’ll try, but you’re not going to like it and you’ll probably think I’m crazy.”

“I promise I won’t think you’re crazy.” How could she after what just happened?

“Not even if I tell you that the guy feeling you up in the club was not the same guy you’ve been crushing on for weeks?” She paused. “No, that’s not entirely accurate. He was mostly Rousseau.”

“Mostly?”

“If you don’t count the spirit currently riding his ass, then yes. Mostly.”

She stumbled and Michelle slid an arm around her waist with a sigh. “Let’s at least get you home and off your feet before I tell you any more ghost stories.”

People’s secret desires are often surprising, even after all these centuries.

Centuries. He’d really said centuries, hadn’t he?

“Let’s do that,” Allegra said weakly, feeling decidedly off balance. “You know I love a good ghost story.”

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