Page 28 of A Dance With Devils
My head drops, mind refusing to acknowledge the ache that’s building between my thighs because of him, these visions, and the possibility that I want to join in with it all. He stole me, forcefully. He whisked me away and brought me somewhere I do not want to be. And then he told me to run so he could chase me, hurt me like these others are doing to each other. It’s wrong. All of it.
They must all be off their heads.
He said that – said drinks might be spiked.
I need to leave.
Or hide.
Either, but I cannot look up again.
Chapter 12
Malachi
Lost. Found. What does it matter anymore?
The skin is warm, the body pliable. The sound enjoyable.
I stop and look down at the woman I’ve had in my grip for the last however long, watching as she nuzzles in gently in the hope of more. There isn’t any more than this. We’ll fuck and then I’ll pass her over to someone else, little care for what happens to her next. I haven’t cared about anything for too long, except maybe my little Hannah as she ran and hunted down her truths. I admired her for that, admired her for taking on the beast and making it see some form of sense.
The woman coos and mewls, whimpers slightly as I tighten my hold and lean her back to expose her neck to me. A treat. An expensive treat given the jewels wrapped around her throat. Marcus’s wife, something he’s dismissed as irrelevant in his life now he’s got a new thing to play with. That’s why she’s here, why she asked me if she could pay for the privilege of coming every six months. She can, but no amount of her teasing her way around me makes her any more interesting than the rest of the women who ply me with skin.
No tattoos on her either.
Where is my little Alice?
I partly drop the woman, giving her some stability until she realises this little dance is over, and then gaze around the room again – searching. Nowhere to be seen. Reds and blacks flash in my thoughts, green vines creeping out under bathrobes following suit. My little Alice – poor little Alice. Maybe she’s found something to fuck, lost herself in the moment and given in, taken some pills of her own. Or maybe she’s still up there, hiding in corners and doorways, waiting for me to come hunt her down. Unlikely. Women like that don’t hang around waiting to be hunted down – they run or they face things head on.
I weave, brushing hands off me as I pass through the crowds to find her, and grab another few pills out of my pocket. It’s good to be home, good to let go and feel the world tilt on its axis. Tonight I’m me again. Visceral, primitive. Instinctual. No care, no thoughts. Just me and my needs, all of them forging through blood that wants to run, to hunt, to devour.
Another corner turned, another room checked - nothing. No Alice. And nothing’s merging either no matter how much I try to find the pull. They don’t work for me – the pills. They ebb and flow in my bloodstream, changing the visions and views, but nothing seeps in, not like it did for Gray and Hannah or others that have found their match. No focus or consuming sensation. I envy that.
Want it.
And there she finally is.
Found.
My feet halt, eyes narrowed and focusing on the small hunched frame that sits quietly on one of the steps, her head in her hands. My Alice. She’s shaking, her body being knocked and barged as men and women pass by without noticing her in their way. Images flood me, a sense of calm drawing me forward into them. Fucking. Lots of fucking. And pain, screams, shouts and pleas.
Twice I’ve had samples of the feeling before now, neither time as potent or consuming as this is now. It rushes over me like a storm, anchoring and channelling me to her. My heart rate has quadrupled, muscles tense and wound tight. I need her to lift her head, look into my eyes – feel me like I can already feel her. Loose lips, soft skin. I can smell her, taste her, and sense her under my teeth. But still I stand in the shadows and watch the way she scrunches into herself further, as if trying to ignore what’s happening around her or hide from it all. Odd place to hide. In plain sight. It isn’t useful to anyone when I’m hunting them down.
Maybe she needs some pills to help her realise.
Nothing works without them.
Three drop into my palm as I walk towards her. The steps start to clear as I approach, men and women scattering to make room for me. I barely see them over the continued narrowing tunnel in my line of sight, her form at the centre of it.
“You’re not running, Alice.” Her head whips upwards, sending shards of bright colours around her body, her eyes wide and feet clambering her upright. “Silly girl.”
“Stay away,” she snaps, backing up the steps. More colours pulsate as she goes, vibrations of them seeming to radiate out of her frame. My head tilts, watching the way the colours get stronger at her tone. “This isn’t right.”
Everything’s right. Everything is as it should be. Something’s mine again, just for me to play with and enjoy. No one in my way. No thoughts other than fucking and enjoying and this feeling that won’t be denied.
“You can’t make me do anything,” she spits. “People are crazy here. This isn’t real, Malachi.”
Reality? I don’t live in that. Especially not here.
