How Beauty Saved the Beast (Tales of the Underlight) (6 page)

He still needed to find that woman. He’d planned to ask her out before the show, but she hadn’t come by to talk shop like she’d said she would. Likely Catrina had kept her running around.

After her performance, then. And if she didn’t come out, well, he’d go find her. The memory of this morning’s kiss had kept a spring in his step all day, and he didn’t want to waste time before getting another one.

“You’re grinning again,” Ashley said with a nudge of her knee.

He could feel the grin get bigger, but he gave a non-committal shrug. In the past he’d have spilled his guts to her. All through growing up, Ash had been the one person he could tell anything to. Despite her more conservative bent, or maybe because of it, she’d reveled vicariously in his troublemaking ways.

But things weren’t the same now; of course they weren’t. They were shy around each other. Back in the day they couldn’t be near each other without touching, and he used to harass her about everything, from her tiny feet to her perfectly ironed shirts. But time had taken that ease away.

Or his accident had. He didn’t resemble her friend, or her ex, anymore. Deceptive as they may be, appearances made a difference to everyone.

“So your friend is a dancer? What kind?” Ashley asked.

He smiled and was rewarded with a shy smile back before her gaze slid away from his face. But this time her eyes found his again quickly. Progress. He wouldn’t ruin the moment by mentioning it.

“Jolie’s trained as a ballerina. She was so good the Houston Ballet wanted her to audition, but her family wouldn’t hear of it.” Jolie was one of the most physically competent women he’d ever met. Training her in self-defense had been a pleasure, and not just because he liked her company. He loved to watch her move, to see the way her brain grasped a concept and her body executed it. He hoped she never needed to use any of the defense techniques he’d taught her (likely a vain hope, he knew), but it made him feel better knowing she was more than competent at gettiad ent at ng out of harm’s way.

And he couldn’t help thinking if she could move like that in a sparring match, she must have some damn fine moves in
other
places that he’d sure like to experience.

Catrina came onstage to announce Pussy Will-Oh!, and Ashley joined in the applause.

“I love the ballet,” she said.

Hauk nearly choked on a laugh. “Oh, she doesn’t do ballet anymore.”

“What does she do?”

The spotlight hit an aerial hammock, pale purple nylon folded in half and hanging from the ceiling. Currently the hammock stretched around the perfect curves of a reclining body. Hauk couldn’t see her face, just shadows and hints of a form cocooned in lavender, but it was Jolie.

He had damn fond memories of those curves pressed into fabric.

“Is that her?” Ashley asked.

“Mm-hm.”

Jolie kicked straight up, and the shadows highlighted her long leg and spiked heel. His whole body stiffened in desire.

“Is this one of those modern dance things? I haven’t seen much of that.”

Jolie moved. The hammock responded to every motion, hugging her body as she slowly twisted in the air.

“But I’m happy to give it a try,” Ashley continued.

“They’re a burlesque troupe,” Hauk muttered.

“Burlesque? Isn’t that…strippers?”

Hauk peeled his eyes off of Jolie long enough to glance at Ashley. She sounded a little panicked. Maybe he would’ve thought that was scandalous, too, back in the day. But they were adults now, and a little skin wasn’t a shocking thing.

His focus riveted back to Jolie, as he was determined not to miss a moment of her skin. “They do some of that. But it’s more than just stripping. They’re good. The troupe has a contortionist and a couple acrobats. Jolie does aerial dancing, and she’s teaching some of the others. All of them are professionally trained dancers.”

“So why do they take off their clothes if they have real talent?”

He shrugged, unable to help a grin. “Why not?”

Other dancers had entered with chairs, and the dance picked up speed as the audience cheered. Jolie gathered the fabric with her hands. Arching her back, she inverted so she hung under the hammock instead of inside it, showing off that amazing athleticism and those perfectly defined shoulders as she got the hammock spinning faster and faster.

In his periphery he could see Ashley’s blond hair shaking next to him. “It’s just not something I thought you’d be into.”

Hauk didn’t know how to take that, so he stayed quiet and watched the show.

After a long moment, she asked, “Is she your…girlfriend?”

There was a note in her voice that he couldn’t place. It almost sounded wistful, and he turned to study her more closely. “No. We’re just friends.”

She nodded, her expression still inscrutable.

“But I’m hoping she will be one day.”

Ashley faced him squarely as her expression morphed into concern. “I heard someone say she was Reginald Benoit’s daughJolit’s ter. You’re okay with that?”

Jolie’s father could be considered one of the most powerful men in the world. His company, Benoit Media, owned television stations, newspapers, websites and a movie studio, giving him a reach that spanned the globe. Jolie didn’t just come from money. She came from a type of wealth and power Hauk couldn’t fathom.

Reginald Benoit was also a high-ranking member of The Order of Ananke. Jolie hadn’t known that about her father—she hadn’t known Ananke even existed—until two months ago.

Hauk shrugged and turned back to the dance. “Person can’t help where they come from, only what they do with it. When given the choice, Jolie joined us.” He had no doubts about where her loyalties lay.

But sometimes he did have
other
doubts.

Ashley continued on relentlessly, “She may want to be with The Underlight, but if her father controls her money…”

“Nah, she inherited from her grandfather. He was a film director. Her money is her own.”

“Ah. So she’s wealthy in her own right?”

That was one of those other doubts. “Yeah.” Hauk barely had two nickels to rub together, never really had. Not that he needed much money living in The Underlight. And he didn’t think Jolie could give a rat’s ass about his non-existent bank account, but…

“You know, the super-rich, like the Benoits, they grow up differently than us. They see things differently, have different expectations.” Ashley blew out a rueful breath, a painful story in the sound. “I ran into that all the time going to school on the East Coast. They can’t help it. It’s just the way they’re raised.”

“Jolie’s not like that. She’s not a snob.” He didn’t mean for the words to come out harsh, but his voice was knife-sharp.

“Okay,” Ashley said, hands in the air. “Not my business. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” She smiled softly and reached a tentative hand to his shoulder. Her soft-pink painted nails squeezed in a comforting gesture, and he started to relax. Ash was just being overprotective, same thing he’d be for her. Unfortunately she wasn’t done. “If you think the daughter of Reginald Benoit will be happy cleaning toilets in The Underlight, I believe you.”

“Cleaning…”
Oh
,
fuck
. Hauk tried to focus on the show as his shoulders clenched.

Jolie soared above the stage wrapped in silk and smiling at an adoring audience, lighter than air and high as the penthouse condo she lived in.

Down in The Underlight, everyone shared duties like cleaning the common rooms, and there were no maids to help with private quarters. Hauk had never known anything different than scrubbing his own floors and fixing his own plumbing.

Jolie, however, had moved from a mansion to a sorority house to a penthouse, all with daily maid service. When something broke, she called somebody to fix it. She was a good cook, but somebody else did her grocery shopping. She’d never known anything else. Hauk didn’t blame her; most people would do the same thing, given the option. But it would make transitioning to The Underlight hard for her.

And between his face and his fugitive status, he couldn’t live anywhere else.

He gripped the edge of the cement as Jolie lowered to the ground to finish her number with a bow. Those green eyes lifted to the ledgs s to thee, where she knew he watched every show. She couldn’t see him with the lights, but as usual she winked at him, and affection pulled his hopes from the battlefield of doubt.

Thinking about her move to The Underlight was jumping ahead too many steps when he hadn’t even secured a first date with her. Life was complicated enough without worrying over a future that hadn’t happened and wasn’t all that likely, even if he could get that date.

Ashley bumped shoulders with him as she applauded, as if to smooth things over. Her friendliness had grown with every hour they’d spent together, and he didn’t want to bust the fragile return to their old camaraderie. She wasn’t trying to upset him.

“Gay rights rallies, drag queen emcees and burlesque dancing. Not quite the cacti and cowboys I pictured moving to Texas.” She sounded bemused, but she smiled, as if trying to accept it all.

“That’s Austin for you. Keepin’ it weird.”

Her smile grew, and he caught the first hint of shared history in the expression. It wasn’t just the difference between Austin and home that Ashley seemed determined to accept. Every time she looked at him, he could see the comparison in her eyes between what he’d been and what he was now. She was the first person, other than his parents in the hospital, who’d seen him both ways. It was a strange invasion. But she took his elbow and squeezed, tossed her blond hair and smiled up at him with that open grin she’d given so readily when they were kids.

Unlike him, she was just the same as he remembered, from the yards of hair to the opals in her ears, the ones he’d given her for her sixteenth birthday. And the necklace he’d given her a year later after they’d both lost their virginity on her pink-quilted bed.

It dawned on him that she’d worn them to say his scars made no difference to her. Even if that wasn’t true, it was nice of her to try. It was good to have some connection to a past he’d been completely cut off from since the trial.

“What’s that guy doing?” Ashley asked as she pointed stage right.

Hauk flipped his attention back to the stage in time to see a man from the crowd leverage himself up onto it. The rally raised funds in support of gay marriage. They’d known interference was a possibility.

“I’ll be back,” he told her as he hopped up and jogged toward the narrow walkway that hugged the wall, spanning the crowd from above.

“Freaks!” the haranguing started. “The Lord judges you for what you do.”

Hauk clenched his jaw. He’d nearly gotten himself burned up fighting for freedom from religious law in a foreign country; it disgusted him to come home to assholes trying to institute it here. He adjusted his hoodie to better hide his face and started down a ladder near the stage. He stopped at the sound of Jolie’s voice.

“Excuse me,” she said.

Hauk looked over his shoulder to see her tapping the guy on his arm. The guy turned, and Jolie hooked a foot around his ankle. In a textbook-perfect maneuver, he went down on his ass. The crowd cheered, Jolie bowed again, and security hopped up onto the stage to escort him away.

Hauk grinned and looped an arm through the ladder so he could join in the applause. He was
so
asking that girl out.

He’d take her for a ride on his motorcycle, out in the hill country somewhere. They’d do like a picnic or something. Jolie would li">
un together, enough in common, enough heat between them. He swung the rest of the way down the ladder with a whistle on his lips and hope in his heart.

Chapter Five

Jolie high-fived a backstage tech on her way into the wings. She should find Hauk and see if he wanted her patrolling for anybody more sinister than a jerk with a loud voice. But first, to the dressing room and into something less see-through and sparkly.

“Well, look who’s learned a few new tricks since last I saw her,” a smooth voice said, and Jolie turned to see Paul Gellar, lead singer of Spork, the next act, waiting by the greenroom door with his arms open.

She smiled and took the offered hug. “Thanks for playing tonight. The crowd means a lot to Catrina, and I’m sure Spork brought a large chunk of it in.”

The band was a local favorite, and Jolie was certain they were poised on the edge of big things. She’d put in a couple calls to friends of hers in the media industry while they were on tour over the past month. Her contacts had reported back that they’d been impressed.

“Catrina?” Paul asked. “Your boss? I didn’t come here for her, gorgeous. What’s been going on with you? Long time, no see.”

Jolie hesitated as Paul flashed her one of his killer grins. He’d always been a charmer. He may not have Hauk’s six-pack abs, but with his thick black hair and hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled, Paul was still an exceptionally beautiful man. Last summer they’d hooked up at a show of his and dated off and on for a while. But she’d wanted more on, and he’d wanted the freedom to chase groupies, and in the busyness of life she’d let the relationship fade.

Come to think of it, she’d let it fade around the time she met Hauk. Which was, of course, when life got so busy—because she’d joined The Underlight. She hadn’t been on a date, any date, since then. Maybe it was time she got back in the game.

But in answer to Paul’s question about her whereabouts, she casually stretched her wrists and rocked back on her heels. “Eh, school, dancing. I’ve been taking a self-defense class.”

“I can tell. Well, we’re back in town for the next six weeks. Here’s hoping you can fit me into your busy schedule sometime soon.” He winked and gave her a squeeze.

Maybe she should fit him into her schedule. They had a good time together, and she had fond memories of Paul’s kissing skills. Now that she’d had the time and distance she needed to accept his unwillingness to commit, it didn’t have to be a problem. They’d be fun and casual, exactly what they both needed right now.

Relationship-less sex, as Catrina had advocated, but with somebody who wouldn’t drop her on the gym floor and put his clothes back on after one kiss.

Before she could give an answer, one of his bandmates called for Paul to hit the stage.

Paul leaned intimately close. “Listen to the set. I have a surprise for you. Kiss for good luck?”

“Sure.” She reached up to give him a kiss on the cheek, but Paul turned and what she’d intended as a chaste peck turned into a liplock.

Paul pressed her against him the way he used to when they were dating aursnd worked his mouth like he thought they still were. But their connection was off. It wasn’t a bad kiss, but the fireworks she’d thought so intense just a couple of months ago weren’t the sparkling thing she remembered. And compared to this morning? Meh.

Hell
on
a
stick
. How dare Hauk let his…his divine tongue ruin her on other men and then drop her on the floor.

Paul broke the lackluster embrace all smiles, as if he didn’t consider it a hugely disappointing experience, and gave her another wink before jogging out onto the stage to riotous applause. She watched him go, frustrated with what wasn’t there. Things with him could be so easy now that she wasn’t emotionally attached to him. Maybe she wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe if she just kissed him a few more times…

She turned back toward the dressing room. She had to change and find that stupid drill sergeant and somehow not give him a piece of her mind.

But he was already there standing in the doorway, still as a statue.

What had he seen? Oh, but his stillness told her all she needed to know. A spike of guilt shot through her, unaccustomed and unnecessary. She didn’t owe Hauk anything; he’d pulled back from her. Besides, he’d been doing God knew what with Ashley all morning. She forced a smile onto her face, instead of the grimace she wanted to give, and asked, “Did you see my takedown? I did it just like you said, and it worked.”

At her words, he shook himself and stepped out of the doorway. “I saw. Nice job. You did it perfectly.”

Normal conversation. Good. Her smile turned a little more natural. “I had a good teacher.” She took a step forward, and Paul’s guitar wailed in the background, a tense note to match her insides. She had to ask Hauk the most important question, the one she shouldn’t have to worry about, except they’d screwed everything up with their stupidity this morning. “We still on for Monday like usual?” Ugh, it sounded so obvious that she was referring to the kissing incident. “I mean, if you and Ashley have plans…”

A horrible thought struck her. What if he wanted Ashley to train with them? Ashley was joining The Austin Underlight, after all.

It took all her mother’s ice-queen training to keep the disgust off her face. Maybe it made practical sense to work with both of them at once, but for two months now that had been
her
Hauk time. And not to be a jerk or anything, but she and Hauk were trained athletes. Would Ashley realistically be able to keep up with them?

Oh God, if the girl was like a marathon runner or some kung fu master on top of everything else, Jolie might need to kill her for the good of humanity.

“Nah, of course we’re still on.” He took another step toward her and a little smile broke through his hesitation. “’Sides, Ashley will be at work Monday morning. That whole eight to six thing lawyers do. Or whatever it is.”

Did that mean if Ashley weren’t at work, things would be different? That he would cancel their session or let her join in?

I
sound
like
a
dog
with
a
chew
toy
.
Let
it
go
.

Nothing was changing. It didn’t matter why. She and Hauk were going to ignoree tng to i this morning, exactly as she’d hoped for in a best-case scenario. When the world was a good place, it was often best not to question why. She gave a real smile and stepped to a companionable distance. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight? Do I have an assignment, Sarge?”

He laughed. “Sarn’t.”

“Huh?”

“We usually shorten Sergeant to Sarn’t, not Sarge.”

“Oh, interesting. I’ll remember that. Sarn’t.” His laugh was so nice, their stance so relaxed, she leaned in and bumped his shoulder.

He smiled down at her as Spork’s first number wound to a close. But then the tension crept back onto his face. “About this morning…” he started then took a deep breath.

Oh
,
fuck
no
. But earlier she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion about something he wanted to talk about. This time she decided to ask first. “What about this morning?”

Hauk paused as he took another deep breath, while on stage Paul spouted some cheese about dedicating the next song to the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Jolie glanced in his direction, wondering if this was what Paul had wanted her to hear. She hoped not. Bad timing.

Hauk followed her gaze and cleared his throat.

“’Cause I’m fine with this morning.” Jolie rushed through the words, trying not to stumble on them. “I understand, and I’m cool with it. We’re good.”

Oh, what a huge-ass lie. She stifled a cringe. Sometimes she was more Benoit than she liked to admit, pretending everything was fine and dandy when she was all knotted up inside.

“Cool with…” He drifted off as Paul’s lyrics reached them loud and clear about waking up next to a girl with red hair and rose petals tattooed on her hips. Hauk’s gaze drifted down to where Jolie’s costume cut away to clearly show red and white petals drifting across her abdomen and down her left hip, out of sight.

Awkward
.
Totally
and
utterly
… “You know,” Jolie muttered, “we dancers talk about our private lives onstage too, but nobody knows what the hell we’re saying. Dance is nice that way.”

“Uh-huh,” Hauk commented.

God, she had no reason to feel bad. She and Paul hadn’t been together in months. And it wasn’t like Hauk was a virgin. There was no way on earth his tongue could do the things his tongue could do if he didn’t have some serious practice. She was fine with that. Granted, it had been more than five years ago for him. But still, she shouldn’t feel crappy because she’d had sex with somebody else before they’d even met.

But the way the light just died in his eyes, the way he shut down a little more with every confession spilling from Paul’s lips, it made her feel like shit. And just a minute ago things had been going so well. How did she fix this? She wouldn’t apologize when she hadn’t done anything wrong. But she should say something. “Hauk?”

“Yeah?” His gaze held no condemnation.

She couldn’t think of a thing to say, though.

He cleared his throat again. “It’s a good song.” He cracked a sad little smile. “If I ever met a girl worthy of songs, it’d be you.”

His sincerity touched her. “Thank you.”

The side door opened, and Ashley burst in, frantically waving her hands at them. With a sigh of relief, Hauk switched to all business and strode after her into the hallway. Jolie followed.

“Wesley, your friends. Brayden and Travis. Somebody came after them. I saw it from the, uh, the balcony. I got here as fast as I could.”

Hauk took off running; apparently he knew where they were. Jolie ran after him, calling a sincere thanks back to Saint Ashley. She and Hauk wove their way through the crowd, him creating space with his bulk and her following in his wake.

* * *

Catrina had warned Brayden and Travis not to steal good seats from paying attendants, so they’d been at the back of the crowd. Hauk ran that way, plowing through the audience with Jolie at his heels, and kept his head down to avoid scaring the crowd with his face. His height and the breadth of his shoulders got people out of their way just fine.

He’d totally wussed out a minute ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask Jolie out while another guy played a song for her. She’d never mentioned Paul while they were working out, and he’d almost forgotten about the pretty-boy musician Jolie had been so head-over-heels for when Hauk had first met her. Apparently they were still a thing, as evidenced by that kiss.

He’d seen all of it. She’d reached for his cheek. Paul had turned, making it more than a friendly gesture. Hauk had repeated that reassurance ad nauseam to shore up his defenses against a tsunami of frustrated jealousy.

Jolie hadn’t backed away, though. As soon as she’d settled into Paul’s kiss, Hauk had almost walked out. Train-wreck syndrome had held his feet, though, until he found himself analyzing the embrace, like it could tell him things he desperately wanted to know. Was she still as enchanted with the singer as she had been last time Hauk had seen them together? Had Paul gotten his head screwed on straight enough to offer Jolie the exclusive relationship she wanted? Most importantly, which one of them did she like kissing more?

He probably didn’t want to know the answer to that.

There was no way Paul had offered her a relationship. If Paul had been treating Jolie right, Hauk was under no illusions regarding how his own advance this morning would’ve gone. Paul was the kind of good-looking, artsy, feel-my-emo-pain douchebag girls swooned for.

But Jolie
had
kissed Hauk back. He still had a shot. Good-looking he may not be, but he knew how to treat a woman right. He’d make sure she never regretted giving him a chance.

Or he would as soon as they’d rescued Travis and Brayden.

They reached the back of the crowd, and he turned a corner toward the side exit—the way he’d go if he was trying to haul somebody out against their will. Sure enough, he could hear yelling in the distance. He picked up speed, sprinting down the hallway as Jolie kept pace with him, and they rounded a corner.

Travis futilely whaled on the back of a burly guy who had a choke hold on Brayden.

Hauk stepped up, grabbed the dude’s shirt and tossed him backward. Brayden took a gasping breath.

The attacker straightened up. Hauk yanked his hoodie back to show off his scarred face, stood up to his full height and waved two fingers, daring the guy to fight back. One l te back. ook, and the guy took off running toward backstage.

“Flash drive,” Brayden choked out, rubbing his throat. “He took the—”

Jolie lifted an eyebrow. “Not porn, I take it?”