"Sooner or later, we all dance with the devil. Tonight it's your turn."
Mikayla couldn't remember where she had read the quote that was currently running through her head. All she knew was that it describe the situation she was in perfectly.
She didn't know how her best friend had talked her into this silly little masquerade for Halloween at some hotel, but whatever argument she used had obviously worked. And what was worse, was that Rose had convinced her to wear one of her costumes.
Now the typically shy Mika stood in a corner, wearing an old medieval style ball gown in all white, with small wings on her back. A white mask framed her green eyes, while her dark red hair fell in curls down her back. Even though the outfit covered everything, she still felt exposed.
She had been left alone since her friend had been whirled onto the dance floor as soon as they had walked into the room. Not that the redhead really minded being by herself. She was one of the girls that would rather spend there night curled up with a good book, instead of out partying. She loved to lose herself in her imagination, in the world of her novels, than stay in reality. Besides, real men had nothing on the fictional heroes that she adored.
But watching everything now, it was as if those very books had come alive outside of her mind. Everyone was in some style of old dress, dancing around the room in a whirl of rainbow ball gowns and tights (poor guys). Her greatest fantasy had come to life right before her eyes, but it seemed that she couldn’t enjoy it.
After an hour, she finally couldn’t watch the party anymore. The colors were beginning to blend together, giving her a headache. Green eyes turn to the floor, and she entertains herself by counting all of the tiles on the floor. Suddenly, she is interrupted by a pair of polished black shoes blocking her view of the floor.
“May I have this dance, lady angel?”
Her gaze travels upward, taking in the sight of a pair of muscular legs covered with black hose, then a black doublet, with red embroidery. The hand being extended to her was big and calloused, but still inviting to her. She chews on her lower lip, as she continues to look up at him. A black cape covered his shoulders, but she could still see the red silk that lined the inside. Her gaze finally rests on his face and she sucks in a breath.
Like everyone else around, he wore a mask around his eyes. This one was onyx colored, with red around the edge. Long ebony hair almost blended in with everything else, framing his face. It reminded her of one of the masked villains in her younger brother’s comic books. His blue eyes looked out of place, but that only brought more attention to them. They stare down at her, beckoning her into their spell.
Before she is able to answer the man before her, he grabs her hand and pulls her into the crowd, waiting for the next song to start. His free hand slips onto her waist, tugging her into his body. She uses her free hand to stop herself from slamming into his chest. He grins down at her and places her hand up on his shoulder, before replacing his own hand. The band starts to play a waltz and soon, they are spinning around with all the other party-goers.
“Who are you?” She says bluntly. She’d never danced this close to a man without even knowing him, and she didn’t want to start now.
“Damien.” Is the simple answer she is given.
It takes all of her will power not to roll her eyes or start giggling. It had to be a fake since he was dressed as Satan himself. She wondered how he would react if she told him her name was Angel or something equally fake. She is able to curb her sarcasm. . .barely. “I’m Mikayla.”
He releases her for a moment, twirling her around before hauling her back into their previous position. The only thing different is that his mouth is right by her ear. She can feel the expulsion of warm air as he whispers. “I know, lady angel.”
A chill runs through her body, and her fingers clench around his. She knew that any intelligent woman would find that last statement extremely weird or creepy. They would have walked away and probably left, assuming they had a stalker. But instead, like the stupid little girl she was, she was breathless.
In this man’s arms, she understood why so many girls her age would hook up with a complete stranger. He’d only said a few words to her, and she was already his to control however he saw fit.
The music ends too soon for the young woman’s taste. Yet there is not much she can do as he pulls away, kissing the hand still captured in his grip. “Thank you for the dance.” He mumbles against the skin before turning and disappearing into the crowd.
She didn’t want him to leave. Even though she had been whirled around the dance floor for a few minutes, she had wanted the wicked waltz to continue on for eternity. It surprised her that she craved this man’s attention still.
Her hand goes to clench into a fist but an object blocks the movement. She winces at the sharp pain and turns her palm up to stare at the card laying there. One of the hotel’s key cards sat in her palm, with a room number and time written on it in red. Without any hesitation, she looks for Rose. Even though she knew better, Mika was gonna go to that room tonight, and she had to tell her friend that she had another ride.
Because everyone knew that even an angel could fall from grace for the right temptation. And if there was ever a more beautiful sin than the man that had held her moments before, she’d never seen it. It is now that the quote runs through her mind, making her smile. . .
She couldn’t wait to continue the dance with her very own devil tonight.
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