marked the strip. 'Let's go.'
She quickened her pace to keep up with him. 'I appreciate this, Lucas. I didn't want to come down here alone, but I hope you don't feel that I used you. You did volunteer.'
'Yeah, sure. There's just one thing, Amaryllis.'
'Yes?'
'When this is over, you owe me a real date. I intend to collect.'
When the club door opened, the sensual, driving rhythms of heavy ice rock spilled over Amaryllis in a wave. Drunken laughter and the din of voices pitched above the level of the music created a wall of noise. Flashes of arcing light zipped back and forth through the shadows creating just enough illumination to reveal the club's customers seated at small, round tables.
Amaryllis came to a halt just inside the door and gazed around in dismay. 'We'll never find a place to sit.'
'What?' Lucas asked.
She cupped a hand to her mouth. 'I said, we'll never find a table.'
'We should be so lucky. Come on, unfortunately I think I see one over there near the wall.'
Amaryllis slanted him a sidelong glance as he guided her through the darkened club. Lucas was not in a good mood. It had been a mistake to bring him with her, she thought. On the other hand, she was very glad he was here.
A waiter materialized out of the darkness the moment Amaryllis sat down.
'What'll it be?' he asked in a bored voice. 'Two-drink minimum.'
Amaryllis looked up at the young man who was standing impatiently in front of her. He was very handsome, very blond, and for an instant she feared that he was very naked. Then she noticed the tiny, tautly stretched leather thong that barely covered the critical regions of his anatomy. Actually, it was difficult not to notice the garment. It was at roughly eye level.
In an effort to conceal her shock, she hastily averted her eyes and gazed fixedly at Lucas. 'Wine.' The word came out in a squeak. She cleared her throat. 'I'll have a glass of wine, please.'
'Green, white, or blue?' The waiter demanded.
'Green, please,' she said quickly, opting for the weakest of the three.
The waiter glanced at Lucas. 'And you, sir?'
'What kind of beer do you have on tap?'
'Jungle Fever, Twin Moons, and Five Hells.'
'Five Hells.'
'Got it. Be right back.'
Amaryllis could not resist another glance at the waiter as he wheeled and disappeared into the crowd. She was curious, in spite of herself, to see where he stashed the small notepad he used to jot down drink orders. There did not appear to be any pockets in the leather thong that she could see.
Lucas leaned across the table. 'Not quite what you expected?'
'I didn't know what to expect.' Blushing furiously, Amaryllis jerked her attention away from the waiter's muscular flanks. 'I've got to figure out a way to talk to this Vivien person.'
Lucas shrugged. 'Ask our server when he gets back.'
'Good idea.'
A drumroll silenced the music and the crowd. On stage the arcing jelly-lights began to pulse in rapidly shifting patterns between floor and ceiling. A murmur of anticipation rose from the onlookers.
A man dressed in formal evening wear stepped out from behind the heavy blue and gold curtains. He had a micro- phone in his hand.
'Ladies and gentlemen.' The announcer paused to make certain he had the full attention of the crowd. 'Welcome to SynCity, where your most erotic dreams come true. Tonight's performance is about to begin. For those of you who have never experienced synergistically augmented sexual entertainment, allow me to present the two people who will thrill you tonight. York and Yolanda.'
The crowd roared its approval as the outer layer of the curtain rose. A man and a woman stood revealed in the flashing lights. Both wore skintight garments fashioned of a glittering, silvery material. Their hair had been dyed a matching shade of silver white. Long, silver gloves covered their hands and arms.
The music swelled as York and Yolanda bowed to the audience. It took the announcer several minutes to regain the attention of the crowd. When he had it, he gave a leering smile and winked broadly.
'York is a class-eight talent, ladies and gentlemen. He is a syn-sex generator. One of those rare individuals gifted with the ability to pick up strong sexual sensations, heighten those sensations, and project them toward those of you who are lucky enough to be sitting in our audience tonight. Yolanda is the powerful prism who will assist him. Let's hear it again for York and Yolanda.'
The crowd broke into eager applause. Shouts of encouragement went up around the room. Amaryllis frowned at Lucas.
'There is no such thing as a . . . a syn-sex generator,' she hissed across the table. 'And even if there were, he couldn't possibly project the sensations of sexual activity to a room full of people.'
Lucas glanced around. 'Tell that to this crowd. The first rule of good theater is that the audience wants to believe. And this crowd definitely wants to believe.'
The announcer raised his hand for silence and got it. 'Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to enjoy a truly unique sexual experience. You are about to discover new levels of erotic stimulation. I give you Vivien of the Veils.'
The inner curtain rose. A woman appeared in the spot- light. She was shrouded from neck to toe in flowing purple. Her head was bowed. Purple hair cascaded down her back to her waist. Massive purple crystals sparkled on her wrists and decorated the gold circlet that bound her hair.
Amaryllis stared. 'Do you think that's the Vivien we came to meet?'
'Wouldn't be surprised. Probably not a lot of Viviens around here. At least not a lot who wear veils.'
The music fell into a low, throbbing beat. York and Yolanda took up positions at the edge of the stage. They clasped hands and closed their eyes as if in intense concentration.
The thonged waiter returned just as Vivien lifted her head and began a series of sultry, sinuous movements. Amaryllis picked up her glass and sipped cautiously at the weak green wine. She watched, first in amazement and then with increasing embarrassment, as the dancer's veils shimmered and swirled. Glimpses of Vivien's buttocks and breasts created a ripple of excitement in the audience.
'Reminds me of that dress you wore to the museum reception,' Lucas murmured.
Amaryllis was outraged. 'That's not true. My dress was perfectly decent.'
'Whatever you say.'
The men in the crowd booted and applauded as the first of Vivien's veils fell away. The women in the audience cheered a moment later when a man emerged from the shadows and strode onto the stage. He wore a pair of thigh- high leather boots and a thong that was even smaller than the waiter's.
The male dancer reached out to snatch one of Vivien's veils. It came free, baring the dancer's breasts, which were supported by a purple harness that emphasized purple rouged nipples. Amaryllis decided that she and Vivien did not shop at the same semiannual underwear and foundation sales.
Vivien circled her partner in a series of unmistakably erotic movements. The man responded with strong pelvic thrusts, which Amaryllis knew could not have been good for his lower back.
The music quickly grew more intense. The beat became relentless. At the edge of the stage, York and Yolanda were bathed in a sheen of sweat.
The male dancer lowered himself onto a purple velvet rug. Vivien, now almost completely nude, straddled his hips.
Embarrassed, Amaryllis turned her attention to the audience. The heavy breathing in the immediate vicinity was quite audible. A few people began to pant and moan. A shrieking cry of ecstasy emanated from a dark corner of the room. A man's husky groan sounded from a neighboring table.
On stage, York and Yolanda strained mightily as Vivien and her companion ground away at each other.
'I don't believe this for one minute.' Amaryllis glowered at Lucas. 'It's all an act.'
Lucas smiled. 'Want to prove that York and Yolanda aren't doing a damn thing except sweating up there on the stage?'
