with the other, she used friction and tension to turn the pinched fabric into a step.
Once she was twenty feet above the stage, she began her routine. Moving through the poses and drops on autopilot, she thought of nothing but the energy exchange that helped sustain her.
Chapter Three
It wasn't until his eyelids felt like sandpaper as they scraped across his eyeballs that Kevin realized he hadn't blinked since his "person of interest" hypnotized the room by stepping onto the stage. Unable to do anything but stare, he was mesmerized by her as she smoothly climbed two long lengths of shimmering red fabric. Using the cloth, she manipulated her incredibly flexible body through shapes that laughed at physics, twisting and contorting in gravity-defying poses. It was something he expected to see at Cirque de Soleil, not in this dark New Orleans bar.
He wasn't a stranger to the gym, even when it took three cans of Red Bull to push his body through the exhaustion constantly weakening it. But Angela Hopkins, AKA Angel, reminded him of a cat, effortlessly lifting her body upside down, around, sideways… He'd seen bodybuilders who couldn't do a pull-up as easily as she could, and they certainly couldn't hold their legs in a perfect horizontal split and then slowly lift them over their heads.
While she gracefully wrapped the silky fabric around her sleek body, he risked a quick glance around the bar. The slack-jawed faces staring unblinkingly at the stage reassured him he was not the only one captivated by her and her performance.
Since the owner of the vampire bar hadn't given him much to go on, other than confirmation he didn't have information about any alleged victims, he felt like the trip to the French Quarter was a bit of a waste. He could probably put pressure on Armand Laroque and get some answers about Lohr's coven, but he had a feeling his energy would be better spent pursuing the Darus character and the beauty on the stage. His instincts told him Armand wasn't lying about not getting involved with Lohr's coven. The hate on his face had been undeniable when Lohr's name was mentioned.
When gasps spread through the audience like a hundred exploding tires, he jerked his gaze back to the stage. Angel was making a quick decent toward the stage floor, rolling and unraveling until she came to an abrupt halt no more than five feet above the ground. Weaving a lean, muscular leg through the taut fabric, she finished her decent with delicate grace in a pose reminding him of a bow and arrow.
As she took a bow and headed off stage, he finished his whiskey and coke with an open mouthed gulp and set off to meet her.
If she was startled by the flash of his badge and his sudden appearance backstage she didn't show it. The feeling wasn't mutual. If he'd been mesmerized by her on stage, he was absolutely dumfounded by her up close. Wearing a flesh colored mesh body suit with tiny pieces of white fabric strategically hiding parts not supposed to show in public places, her body was carved from perfection. He couldn't remember seeing a more stunning woman. Not in magazines or on film.
The image of her beneath him, her flexible legs wrapped around his neck, flashed in his mind. He cleared his throat to shoo it away.
"Amazing show," he said to break the ice.
"Thank you."
"I think I pulled a muscle just watching you. I struggle to reach my toes."
She smiled. "It helps that I'm a contortionist."
It probably helped a lot of things. "Ms. Hopkins, correct?"
"Please, call me Angel. I haven't gone by my surname in over a decade." He didn't think he'd ever get used to the pseudonyms. "What can I do for you, Officer?" she asked. Something in her expression told him she knew he found her tantalizing. But then, most men probably found her tantalizing.
"I need to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Lohr Varius and about what happened at the Forever Dark Vampire Ball Saturday night."
She looked puzzled. "Of
Once she was twenty feet above the stage, she began her routine. Moving through the poses and drops on autopilot, she thought of nothing but the energy exchange that helped sustain her.
Chapter Three
It wasn't until his eyelids felt like sandpaper as they scraped across his eyeballs that Kevin realized he hadn't blinked since his "person of interest" hypnotized the room by stepping onto the stage. Unable to do anything but stare, he was mesmerized by her as she smoothly climbed two long lengths of shimmering red fabric. Using the cloth, she manipulated her incredibly flexible body through shapes that laughed at physics, twisting and contorting in gravity-defying poses. It was something he expected to see at Cirque de Soleil, not in this dark New Orleans bar.
He wasn't a stranger to the gym, even when it took three cans of Red Bull to push his body through the exhaustion constantly weakening it. But Angela Hopkins, AKA Angel, reminded him of a cat, effortlessly lifting her body upside down, around, sideways… He'd seen bodybuilders who couldn't do a pull-up as easily as she could, and they certainly couldn't hold their legs in a perfect horizontal split and then slowly lift them over their heads.
While she gracefully wrapped the silky fabric around her sleek body, he risked a quick glance around the bar. The slack-jawed faces staring unblinkingly at the stage reassured him he was not the only one captivated by her and her performance.
Since the owner of the vampire bar hadn't given him much to go on, other than confirmation he didn't have information about any alleged victims, he felt like the trip to the French Quarter was a bit of a waste. He could probably put pressure on Armand Laroque and get some answers about Lohr's coven, but he had a feeling his energy would be better spent pursuing the Darus character and the beauty on the stage. His instincts told him Armand wasn't lying about not getting involved with Lohr's coven. The hate on his face had been undeniable when Lohr's name was mentioned.
When gasps spread through the audience like a hundred exploding tires, he jerked his gaze back to the stage. Angel was making a quick decent toward the stage floor, rolling and unraveling until she came to an abrupt halt no more than five feet above the ground. Weaving a lean, muscular leg through the taut fabric, she finished her decent with delicate grace in a pose reminding him of a bow and arrow.
As she took a bow and headed off stage, he finished his whiskey and coke with an open mouthed gulp and set off to meet her.
If she was startled by the flash of his badge and his sudden appearance backstage she didn't show it. The feeling wasn't mutual. If he'd been mesmerized by her on stage, he was absolutely dumfounded by her up close. Wearing a flesh colored mesh body suit with tiny pieces of white fabric strategically hiding parts not supposed to show in public places, her body was carved from perfection. He couldn't remember seeing a more stunning woman. Not in magazines or on film.
The image of her beneath him, her flexible legs wrapped around his neck, flashed in his mind. He cleared his throat to shoo it away.
"Amazing show," he said to break the ice.
"Thank you."
"I think I pulled a muscle just watching you. I struggle to reach my toes."
She smiled. "It helps that I'm a contortionist."
It probably helped a lot of things. "Ms. Hopkins, correct?"
"Please, call me Angel. I haven't gone by my surname in over a decade." He didn't think he'd ever get used to the pseudonyms. "What can I do for you, Officer?" she asked. Something in her expression told him she knew he found her tantalizing. But then, most men probably found her tantalizing.
"I need to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Lohr Varius and about what happened at the Forever Dark Vampire Ball Saturday night."
She looked puzzled. "Of
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