You're trying to lose yourself in N'awlins. As long as you aren't found out, as long as those looking for you don't follow you there, you'll be safe. You're in the French Quarter, sure the one's you're running from won't look for you there. You've been running forever, relentlessly pursued because you're different, in a way no one understands, a way they fear.
You're in a club packed with gyrating bodies, inky blackness trying to etch inside everytime the front door opens. Sweat is sliding down your temples, not from the heat of a hundred bodies but from fear - fear that you'll be found. You are watchful and distrustful, unaware someone has you locked in their sights.
A deep voice rumbles in your ear, "Cher, why are you afraid? I can smell your fear from across the room." You jump, your startled eyes darting to a dark mocha gaze that captivates you and seems to see into your very soul.
"I'm not afraid," you say bravely. "Leave me alone." Your voice is sharp and dismissive, but he doesn't take the hint.
Sliding a muscular arm around your taught waist, he tugs you slowly under his arm, leaning down to whisper seductively, "Don' lie to me cher. I can sense your fear, as well as sense the rage coming from the muscle who jus' walked in the door."
Your eyes dart fearfully to the door, your heart plummeting as you see your nemesis just inside, his eyes tracking the room, relentless in their pursuit.
Turning to run, you're stopped by a wall of muscle, strong arms circling your back and hugging you to a chest broad enough to block you from the assassin's scrutiny. "Dance with me cher, and you'll not be found. Let me help you. I've been waiting for an eternity."
You don't want to trust this stranger, but what is your choice? Be found and die, or follow his lead in a dance to freedom. Or to another kind of danger?
"How do you know I need help?" You gaze into those eyes, barely able to form a coherent thought, as if mesmerized.
"I know your thoughts, what is in your soul, what you need. Follow my lead cher and we'll dance to freedom."
Seductive freedom beckons you as he shuffles you toward the back of the club, your body rubbing sensuously against his hardness, proof he isn't immune to you throbbing against your abdomen.
As you reach the back door, your heartbeat drumming dangerously in your chest, he pulls you into the safety of darkness, leaning down to drink dark wine from your veins and join you together forever where he can watch over you. Protect you. He feels deep in his soul you are his mate, the one meant only for him, and he'll do everything in his power to protect you and convince you, when you awaken, when he makes you his, in every way.
His darkness will become your light, the light that guides you away from death, from the assassin, from mortality, to sensuous delights, to freedom, to love.
