Torin had survived; the Hunters had not.

Unfortunately, there were many, many more Hunters out there. Seriously, they were like flies. Swat one away, and two more soon took its place. Even now, they were out there somewhere, waiting for a chance to strike. The Lords had to remain cautious.

"Besides, there's no way they could have figured out a way to bypass our security," Reyes added, his harsh voice drawing Anya from her thoughts.

"Just like there's no way they could get into the fortress and nearly behead Torin?" Sabin replied.

"Damn this! Paris, stay here and watch her while I check the perimeter." Footsteps, muttered curses.

Well, shit. If the warriors found any trace of Hunters out there, there'd be no convincing them of her innocence. Of that crime, at least. Lucien would never trust her, never relax around her. Never touch her except in anger.

She didn't allow her trepidation to play over her face. "Maybe I saw the crowd and snuck in," she told Paris and another Lord who was studying her, adding tightly, "And maybe the big guy and I can go the next few minutes without an interruption. In private."

They might have gotten the hint, but they didn't leave.

Fine. She'd work around them.

As she began to once again rock softly to the beat, she kept her gaze on Lucien and caressed her fingers down the planes of her stomach. Replace my hands with yours, she projected.

Of course, he didn't. But his nostrils did that delicious flare as his eyes followed every movement of her palms. He swallowed.

"Dance with me." This time, she said the words aloud, hoping he would not so easily ignore her. She licked her lips, moistening them.

"No." Hoarse, barely audible.

"Pretty please, with a cherry on top of me."