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When Zev and Elisabeth reached the center of the dance floor, he immediately pulled her into close position, one hand on her waist, the other grasping her fingers with an easy confidence. And lead he did, his steps matching the tempo of the upbeat song with precision.[break][break]

When exactly did Zev Harcourt learn how to dance? It was not a skill required for an assassin — not in wartorn Kanto where only Rocket's elite held parties while the average citizen suffered. And a bullied boy without friends had no inclination toward such a social activity.[break][break]

No, Zev learned to dance over the last few weeks in the night-shrouded laboratories of Mossdeep Space Center. And as with everything else he did, he had learned it to such a level that he should have been able to fool most other guests at the masquerade.[break][break]

But would Kalosian noblewoman Elisabeth Fiorelli be able to spot his inexperience?[break][break]

That thought did not deter Zev as he twirled her across the floor. Instead, he chuckled at her accusation.[break][break]

"You have keen eyes, as sharp as your tongue. I could say the same of you. Why else would a gorgeous woman like you prowl the ballroom as if it were your domain? Do you like to play with your food too, mon louve?" he teased.

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BY GUNSMILE

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Silently, Elisabeth noted the skill of her partner with approval. What missteps she might have faulted him for were masked by the sheer charisma emanating from the man, enough to make any stumbles appear like intentional opportunities for her to shine in his stead.[break][break]

Some Kalosian noblemen were equipped with precision and technique, but lacking in personality. There was no pleasure to be had in dancing with machinery.[break][break]

At his riposte, her lips curved into a devious smirk. "Ah, that little matter. I'm afraid I have a confession."[break][break]

The beginnings of a twirl revealed themselves in their manner, and she followed his lead with the grace of a woman who had spent years hunting in this natural habitat, preparing to spin away as her green eyes glanced up at his from behind lowered lashes.[break][break]

"I bore easily."

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Elisabeth's response prompted yet another rich laugh from Zev, who reeled her back into him with perhaps a little more strength than was appropriate for such an elegant dance.[break][break]

"That's a trait we share, then," he commented, his grin wicked with delight.[break][break]

Not for the first time that night, he wondered how differently their unmasked exchanges would have gone if this was the face she'd shown him since the beginning. Her unabashed boldness and aggression were far more entertaining than the aloof Rocket admin or the decorous florist.[break][break]

Zev wondered when he would get to witness such vivacity from her again.[break][break]

"I have to say, though, it seems you thrive in this setting. Most of the other guests here are like children playing pretend. But your dress, your hair, your mask..."[break][break]

He paused a moment, allowing the weight of the last word's double meaning to settle in the small gap between their bodies.[break][break]

"They are a second skin for you, aren't they?"

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BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","elisatestbody"]

Her lips pressed together with quiet amusement at his observation, their shape now sharply defined in a Cupid's bow.[break][break]

"You make me sound like quite the Seviper."[break][break]

Men like Zev Harcourt were her prey of choice at events like this. Not because she was attracted to them, precisely -- although that had inevitably become true, over the years, as a result of this conditioning -- but because she recognized them for what they were. [break][break]

The lazy way their eyes raked over other participants, the slow curve of their grin as they found a target for the evening: these she had learned as an agneau that would have blushed for the intensity of their attentions, her response as innocent as luka chêne's sweet kiss had been beneath the mistletoe.[break][break]

When Elisabeth had finally shed her fleece, she hadn't turned to kind-hearted men to bare her teeth and fangs.[break][break]

Adultery had been a sin she'd committed against her husband with wolves possessed of hearts as black as his.[break][break]

"There is an expression I have always found insightful." Whatever languid elegance had existed in their movements shifted to a push-and-pull with her words, subtly challenging his lead with the slightly increased pace of her footsteps. "Masks don't hide who we are, do they, mon loup?" [break][break]

The gold filigree of her butterfly mask glittered enchantingly in the light as she stared into his eyes, a flame kindling in her own.[break][break]

"They merely reveal what we're hiding."

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"I happen to favor Sevipers," Zev remarked lightly. "They're wonderful creatures."[break][break]

Despite the nonchalance in his tone, though, he felt the subtle shift of power as Elisabeth challenged his lead, her footsteps a heartbeat faster than his. He felt her entire body in her attempt to drag him across the dance floor. Yet he noticed she still kept time with the music. Her skill was truly at an expert level.[break][break]

Resolve flashed through him. He would not be overwhelmed. Not by this woman nor anyone else.[break][break]

The steps of the dance raced through Zev's mind. To maintain the lead, he had to move a half-second sooner than he'd practiced. Music was not his strong suit, and he found himself concentrating far more than normal to keep up the gracefulness and fluidity of motion he'd displayed thus far.[break][break]

"Is that so? And what do you think my mask says about me?" Zev asked when he finally got his bearings.[break][break]

The grin he gave Elisabeth was not as casual as before. It was sharper, colder, the warning flash of fangs before a fight.

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BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","elisatestbody"]

She reveled in this, the unmasking of the monstrosity of men.[break][break]

The minute shift in his expression, the tightness in his smile -- these all elated her as the music swelled, his resistance to her lead waking some long-dormant willfulness in her. A headstrong nature that was stubborn, rebellious, and above all, reckless.[break][break]

This part of her had once driven another man mad with rage, and oh, how she'd suffered for that petty pleasure.[break][break]

At Zev Harcourt's subtle discomfort, a wicked grin creased her lips, taunting him as she pulled him into the current of her frenzy. No part of her would yield to him tonight.[break][break]

"I think I already answered this question, didn't I?" she said in a voice so light and breezy it seemed at odds with the vicious staccato of her heels.[break][break]

What had been a pleasant dance between a pair of seeming-strangers now emanated a thick and palpable tension, something polite and strained in the way the two smiled at one another.[break][break]

"Behind the moonlit mask you wear..." Her head lowered towards him, as if conveying some conspiratorial secret between them two. When her lips parted, however, something mocking was breathed in the words: "There's a wolf, restless and forced to play at being tame."

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The sharpness of Elisabeth's grin that she threw back at Zev spoke volumes. If she had revealed herself as a predator earlier in the foyer, she embodied it now mid-dance. If Zev were not the immediate subject of her ensnarement, he would have laughed and relished witnessing her wanton destruction.[break][break]

But he was her target at that moment, and he would neither bend nor break for her.[break][break]

"Clever guess," Zev replied. "I do hate being caged."[break][break]

Faster and faster, matching the pace of the crescendoing music, Zev and Elisabeth cut and twirled across the dance floor like twin tops spinning at full momentum.[break][break]

"If I were to make a guess about you, I'd say you feel the same. Caged. Beneath that butterfly mask is a pit of venom and fangs for lashing out."[break][break]

A Seviper, she had called herself. How truly apt.[break][break]

"But you have no target for it, do you? Not normally. Which is why you unleash it here, where our masks protect us from any repercussions."

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BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","elisatestbody"]

Caged.[break][break]

The restraint and sense of self-preservation that Elisabeth had always known before the man in front of her had evaporated tonight. An insolent glare in her emerald eyes replaced it, burning with a fury he would not recognize. "You're right," she remarked at length, but no surrender came with the admission. "The pleasure of a worthy opponent often eludes me."[break][break]

Caught in the maelstrom of her emotion and tumult, the allegro of their movements ignited the dance floor, the venom he'd observed in her churning bitterly with each pivot of her heels.[break][break]

She'd sank her POISON FANGS into the man who'd turned her into this hateful creature, drinking deeply of his misery and pain until finally his corpse was discarded with the ruins of his legacy. A match had set fire to the prison that had held Elisabeth fast for a decade, and as she'd watched that manor crumble into ash and dust, she waited for the relief that the siren song of freedom had always promised her.[break][break]

And yet the hate, the resentment, the loathing -- that three-headed hydra still remained, unfed, with nothing but a dead man's bones to sate its hunger upon.[break][break]

Until the monster inevitably devoured itself.[break][break]

"Don't mistake me, mon loup." Her mouth curled into a sneer, twisting her beautiful features into a mockery of a smile. "Nights like this one, I'm not hiding from any repercussions."[break][break]

Her next words came with all the deceptive tenderness of a lover, whispered in the dead of night:[break][break]

"I'm inviting them in."

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There, in the final act of the dance, Elisabeth Fiorelli peeled off the final layer of her mask. With that sneer and the admission of her secret craving, she bared herself to Zev.[break][break]

And he laughed. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed. The deep sound filled the ballroom, mingling with the raucous din of conversation, merriment, and music.[break][break]

"Careful now," he chided her softly once he'd calmed. "You don't want to burn yourself with that insatiable fire."[break][break]

A firm touch on Zev's upper arm caused him to jerk his head toward its source. His eyes went wide.[break][break]

Even though the orchestra was still in full swing, and even though the dance had not yet finished, the world around him slowed. He came to a stop, his gaze fixed over Elisabeth's shoulder, and unceremoniously released her from his grip.[break][break]

Zev's smile changed, shifting from mocking amusement to genuine delight. Turning his back on his dance partner, he took hold of the new hand raised toward him and rubbed the knuckles with his thumb, tenderly.[break][break]

"You made it," he said, pleased, no trace of the earlier conflict in his voice.[break][break]

And all at once, without explanation or warning, he abandoned Elisabeth to her solitude.

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BY GUNSMILE