As Malcolm soon discovered, it was that hard. Within the first few minutes of dancing, he gained a better understanding of where the phrase “two left feet” originated from. Tapestry was patient, slowing her pace until Malcolm was leading by default.
“Alright, you win,” he said.
“It’s not a contest.” Tapestry had a radiant smile on her face. “You know… I always wanted to go dancing like this.”
“I figured you did?” asked Malcolm. “How did you learn, otherwise?”
“Through lessons,” said Tapestry. “Lessons I went to alone. Allen wasn’t even willing to try, but I can’t blame him for it.”
She drew in closer to Malcolm, resting her head on his shoulder for a second. It was nice, and he let himself enjoy it. When the song ended, he walked over to a table with her, pulling out Tapestry’s chair for her so she could sit down first.
“Why don’t I go find us some more drinks?” asked Malcolm.
Tapestry grinned at him.
“That would be lovely,” she said.
Malcolm returned a couple of minutes later to see Tapestry being led onto the dance floor by another man. She had her back turned to him, and he just stared at her for a couple seconds, unsure of how to react.
Someone else asked her to dance. It’s not something to make a big deal out of, right?
He set the drinks down and tapped his fingers on the table. Sitting down and just waiting for Tapestry to get back felt a bit defeatist. He let his gaze scan the room, looking for an available woman who’d be interested in putting up with a clumsy dance partner.
“Can I have the next dance?” asked a woman, from behind him.
Malcolm flinched in surprise. He turned around and saw a beautiful black-haired woman wearing a purple sequined mask. She was attractive, at least a couple of years older than him, and very familiar looking.
Wait a second… That’s Rose!
His jaw dropped open when made the connection. Her skin was pale white, not its normal shade of purple, and her eyes were a soft brown instead of black, but it was her. She smirked at him, and he knew it without any doubt.
“What… are you doing here?” asked Malcolm. “How…?”
“I’m not sure what you mean?” said the woman. “Are you interested in dancing, mysterious masked stranger? Or should I move on to the next table?”
She extended her hand. Malcolm took it and led her onto the dance floor, his heart threatening to pound its way loose out of his chest.
CHAPTER 19
“You’re here for Golden Joab,” said Malcolm. After his initial shock had worn off, it had been easy to guess her motivation. He swirled Rose in a circle, letting her spin out along his arm before grabbing her hand and pulling her back in.
“Very perceptive,” said Rose. “Though I was hoping that you’d assume that I was just here to see you.”
“Rain Dancer sent you, then?” asked Malcolm. “You’re at his beck and call, now, running errands for him?”
“You say that as though you weren’t set by someone, yourself,” said Rose.
“How did you manage the disguise?” asked Malcolm.
“One of our new recruits,” said Rose. “A spryte by the name of Fantasy. I believe the two of you have met before.”
Malcolm frowned, remembering his first foray into Terri’s Tavern, and the hidden world of sprytes and demons in Vanderbrook. Fantasy had made a spirited attempt at seducing him, using her illusion power to create a vivid, and rather motivating, fantastical scene.
She’s using it to make Rose and herself look like normal humans. Clever.
“You should give up,” said Malcolm. “Go back to Rain Dancer. Tell him that you failed.”
“Why in the world would I do that?” Rose whispered the question into Malcolm’s ear, letting her lips brush across his neck.
“Because you can’t win,” said Malcolm. “I have backup, too.”
“Your champion girlfriend?” asked Rose. “She looks pretty distracted, at the moment.”
Malcolm glanced over his shoulder to see Tapestry dancing with the man from before, who was rather good at the ballroom style. It made Malcolm feel a little annoyed to see the look on her face, and how much fun she was having, but he pushed the emotion aside.
“Don’t play games with me, Rose,” said Malcolm. “I care about you… But I’ll fight against you, if I have to.”
“Oh, you sound so confident,” she said. “Haven’t we done this dance before, Malcolm? What makes you think you could handle me this time?”
“I absorbed Savior’s powers,” said Malcolm.
It wasn’t technically a lie. He had absorbed Savior’s powers, at one point. The fact that he hadn’t figured out how to use them and had since replaced them with Tapestry’s wasn’t something Rose needed to know. Her eyes widened slightly at his revelation.
“Wow,” she said. “I forgot how ambitious you could be, when you want to be.”
She spun along Malcolm’s arms, pressing herself tight against him.
“I think we have more fun when we’re friends, rather than enemies,” she whispered.
Malcolm couldn’t keep a small grin from spreading across his face.
“I know we do.” He let his hand slide across her soft butt for an instant. “But I’m here to do a job.”
“I guess the question is…” Rose breathed against the sensitive skin of his neck, planting a quick kiss there. “…Can you get the job done?”
Something was about to happen, but whether it was to be violence or passion, Malcolm had no idea. He took a strong, aggressive grip around Rose’s waist and brought his face in close to hers, his lips searching for hers.
In the same instant, the lights suddenly flicked off. Only a single spotlight in the center of the dance floor was left on. A man stood within its light, dressed in tight black leather pants and a garish white shirt that exposed a significant amount of chest hair. His head was topped with a blond, loosely twisted man bun, and the expression on his face was overly serious.
The music from the speakers overhead shifted from a soft, ambient piano track, to something halfway between techno and dubstep. The man lifted his arms up into the air and began shaking his hands back in forth.
Rose had pulled away from Malcolm as soon as the lights had gone out. He swore under his breath, realizing that the man holding the attention of the room was, in all likelihood, Golden Joab.
Golden Joab spun around in a circle, bobbing his head forward and back to the rhythm of the music. He shook his shoulders up and down, doing a ridiculous looking dance and occasionally gesturing to the audience members closest to him.
“Behold!” he shouted. “Magic… of the likes you’ve never seen before!”
He ripped his shirt further open and stomped a foot down on the ground. Smoke began to rise from the floor. Golden Joab sank down into it, waving his hands in front of his eyes and head theatrically.
The smoke thickened for a moment, and then began to clear. Golden Joab was gone. Malcolm frowned, unsure of whether to be impressed or not. He tried to spot Tapestry in the crowd, but the dim lighting made it into an impossible task.
“Disappear!” shouted Golden Joab’s voice. “And… reappear!”
The spotlight bobbed up to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Golden Joab stood atop it, his chest puffed out and his hands on his waist. He grinned and blew a kiss down to the ground, almost losing his balance in the process.
“I will show you the true meaning of the word… magic!” he shouted over the music. The tempo of the beat began to build, and Golden Joab began swaying back forth, the chandelier groaning under his weight.
The chain connecting it to the ceiling gave a high-pitched whine as it fell. It hit the floor hard, glass from the fake fire bulbs on its tips shattering and spraying a few nearby women with glass. One of them cried out and dabbed at a small, bloody scratch on her cheek.