Chapter 4

Oh ay ay ay oh ay ay ai oh ay ay ay oh ay ay ai

Then came the dancer.

A man stepped into the firelight, and suddenly John’s skin felt a size too small for his frame. His clothing itched hyper-sensitive skin. Tugging at his collar, fingers unconsciously unbuttoning his shirt, John gazed, riveted, at the strong male warrior whose body moved in time with the drums. Lithe limbs found a fast, furious pace; bare feet struck the ground, rapid-fire, and the jingle of clay and bones clattered with the man’s motions.

Sweet Lord. No civilized man could move like that—this was something beyond humanity, beyond comprehension. The first rain that fell on the earth danced in this pattern, and the last flame that would flicker, long after Man was gone, would have this same rhythm. There was no reason in it, no rhyme, but John felt his body responding in ways he’d never imagined it would, not to a man labeled an enemy, a savage living on the plains in the middle of nowhere.