Shalador’s Lady (The Black Jewels #8)(89)
Author: Anne Bishop

Cassidy drummed, grateful for the simple beat she could maintain and still observe the people.

The Priestess extended her hand and brought Yairen across the circle. Then they both extended their hands to bring two more men into the dance. As she took the hand of the last elder who was participating in the dance, she stepped out of the circle.

All the drummers except the lead drummer stopped and shook out their hands as the lead drummer made the transition to the new beat. Then the rest of the drummers joined in again, along with the musicians playing fiddles and flutes.

A blur of images and sounds. Cassidy focused on the drumming, catching glimpses of the men as they danced the same formal steps their ancestors had performed centuries ago.

She lost her rhythm through part of the Boys’ Dance because the younger ones—those who had recently gone through their Birthright Ceremony—turned into brainless puppies, forgetting most of what they had learned so they ended up bouncing along with the older boys. And more than a few of them stopped dancing altogether to wave at their mothers, which caused tangles as the boys still dancing tried to move around unplanned obstacles.

Despite Shira’s earlier assurance that drummers dropped out of the music, Cassidy felt embarrassed that she’d lost the rhythm after so many weeks of practice. Then the Boys’ Dance gave way to the Youths’ Dance, and Reyhana lost all ability to drum because she was laughing so hard at Janos’s antics. Hearing other bursts of laughter followed by a stumble in the beat, Cassidy suddenly understood that perfection wasn’t expected during this joyous celebration. So she watched Janos and laughed with Reyhana.

He performed the steps exactly as he should, but Cassidy learned a great deal about attitude. Most of the young men who were within a year or two of making the Offering and being considered adults were fiercely serious as they performed the dance. Janos gave the steps a lightheartedness, making fun of himself and the others who were on the cusp of manhood.

Cassidy felt more than heard Shira’s sigh of relief and understood the feeling even while she laughed. Janos knew there were lines he couldn’t cross, and he’d done what he could to keep himself—and Reyhana—from temptation.

The Youths stepped out of the circle as they brought over the last group of dancers. The adult men walked in a quiet circle as all but the lead drummer once again went silent.

“Well done, Janos,” Cassidy said. Then she noticed Reyhana vanishing her drum and stool. “Aren’t you staying to see the last dance?”

The two youngsters gave her startled looks.

“No, Lady,” Janos finally said. “We’re meeting some friends at The Lady’s Pleasure. Then we’ll go back to my grandfather’s house for the night.”

*Don’t ask,* Shira said as she vanished her smaller drum and called in the large drum, settling it between her thighs.

One by one the drummers joined the lead drummer, and The Dance once more filled with sound.

Noticing how many people were leaving, Cassidy leaned toward Shira. “Why aren’t they staying?”

“The Fire Dance isn’t for children.” Shira began drumming.

Gray circled with the rest of the men, letting their bodies shield him from Cassie’s view.

His life, his dreams . . . everything came down to this dance.

Ranon was on his left, but on his right, the side closest to the fire . . . a shadow. Primal. Lethal. Seductive.

You ran from me once,something whispered.I can’t give you now what was lost then. But I can give you the rest if you’re ready to accept it. Will you run from me again? Or will you embrace the fire?

Who are you?

You know.

A brush of heat against his right arm. A shivery awareness of what he still could claim for himself.

The man. The Warlord Prince.

Yes, I know who you are,Gray thought.You are Jared Blaed.

Will you run from me again?

Gray caught a glimpse of Cassie’s fiery hair and felt a hunger for more than sex—and knew how to get everything he wanted.

No, I won’t run from you again. This time, I’ll take everything you can give me.

Cassidy didn’t catch the signal, but moments after the last child left the park, the dance began.

Clothes vanished with the first thumped step, and looking at a circle of men who wore nothing but their Jewels and their pride, she understood why the Fire Dance wasn’t witnessed by children.

Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful!

Shadows and fire. Hard bodies glistening with sweat as they performed that hot, grinding dance.

She caught sight of Ranon and almost slid off her stool. Then she glanced at Shira and saw the same fierce glitter inthose dark eyes. The Black Widow no longer played the drum as music. The beat, thesound, became a challenge, female to male, and every move and thrust of the dance was Ranon’s answer to that challenge.

Then she looked at the man dancing next to Ranon, looked into a familiar face that held the glittering green eyes of a stranger.

A dangerous stranger.

“Gray,” she whispered.

As he performed each turn and thrust of the dance, the shadow clung like a second skin—primal, lethal, seductive. Then it became his skin, filling him with a wild heat.

And then, as he looked into Cassie’s eyes, it became him.

Ranon and Gray moved on with the other dancers, stomping, thrusting, whirling. The scars on Gray’s back silvered in the firelight, and Cassidy had the feeling those scars would no longer be a source of shame; they would be a testimony of courage.

Round and round. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, following his progression around the circle even when the fire hid him from sight.

Round and round until the drums were a thrumming in her blood.

The drums stopped without warning, and the silence was a painful scraping over her senses, over her skin.

“Cassie.” A voice roughened by lust, by need, by something more than both.

Her legs trembled, but she forced herself to stand and look Gray in the eyes.

“Cassie.” His hands cupped her face. The slight tremble in his fingers helped settle her own nerves.

Until he kissed her.

Heat. Drums. A hot, grinding dance. A firestorm of feelings as his tongue swept into her mouth, asking and demanding.

“Gray.” Ranon’s voice sounded just as rough. “Put some pants on and let’s go home.”

How am I supposed to keep my hands off him long enough to get home?Cassidy wondered as she watched Gray call in a pair of trousers and put them on.

The air was cool at this time of year, but Gray didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes. He just grabbed her hand and headed for one of the archways, followed by Ranon and Shira.