Read Mystic Jive: Hand of Fate - Book Four for Free Online Page B

in that he fed off people’s emotions. The more powerful, the better.
    “Listen up children,” Mr. Maestro announced, his restless fingers fluttering in the air. “Tonight we will put the steps we’ve been working on to music. Please watch and learn as Stella and I demonstrate the music of love, Tango Jive.”
    With that, he struck a pose and lifted his hand to Stella. She hit the ‘play’ button on the remote, and moved gracefully across the floor to take his hand.
    A heavy base drumbeat filled the room—the studio had a great sound system. The pair went into action, a palpable vibe of sensuality between them. The couple moved as one, starting out slow, wrapped in each other’s arms, twisting and turning in perfect harmony, then, as the music changed tempo, they matched it perfectly. Stella and Maestro stared deeply into each other’s eyes, never once looking at their feet or where they were going—they were totally focused on each other. Watching them together, moving to the hot beat of that music had me wanting to be part of it, too. The beat transitioned again, and there was daylight between them, but it was only so that they could move like a pair of dervishes—back and forth, crossing and twirling, separately, yet both of them in perfect synchronicity.
    I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
    Dancing—at least the kind of dancing that Mr. Maestro and Stella taught—required utter trust between the partners, because at any one time, one or the other partner would be in total control of the couple’s forward movement. The music grew to a climax, and everyone in the room could see they were enjoying every second of it, and that for them, the world had faded away—save for the music, the beat, and each other.
    Rhys and I had both gone into the whole dance lessons thing as a bit of a lark, but watching these two was no joke. Every time they demonstrated the steps for us, they looked so effortless. Watching them dance made me feel a bit like a voyeur—like what they were showing us was too private, too personal, and too risqué to stare at openly.
    I was envious of them. I wanted that. And after the first lesson, Rhys confessed to me that he envied them too. We’d made a pact to take it seriously, and discovered that Dancing for Lovers with Mr. Maestro and Stella was a blast.
    When it ended, the class broke out into wild applause. The pair bowed and I caught another glimpse of fang from Stella.
    “And now it is your turn,” Maestro addressed the class. “When we started, I guaranteed that each and every one of you would be able to perform the steps we’ve demonstrated here tonight.” He blotted a bit of moisture from his brow with a handkerchief. “And that and your partner would reach a higher level of intimacy every week. Tonight, you are going to show us how far you’ve come.”
    For the next forty-five minutes, he and Stella ran us through a warm-up of three different combinations of steps, strung out in a line across the dance floor. Each of the three series of steps required our utmost attention to the count, foot placement, and body position. The first week had been rough, but Rhys and I moved through the warm-up easily now, moving both backwards and forwards to the beat. It was a great workout.
    Mr. Maestro then cleared the floor of all but one couple and started the music. Each couple danced to a different song, one we hadn’t heard before. At the end of each couple’s routine, he offered suggestions for improvement.
    I felt more than a little nervous when it was our turn. Rhys led me to the center of dance floor. He slipped his hand around my back and pulled me close. He was warm and so was I, and as we waited for the music to begin, we both grinned with anticipated pleasure. Rhys was every bit as happy to have me pressed up against him as I was to be there.
    The sound of drums in the intro built up into an irresistible, throbbing beat. We weren’t perfect, but as we rock-stepped,