Two steps. That was all Sarah needed to feel at home in the small dance studio. Her powers let her feel tension, anxiety, but they were overwashed by comfort, belonging, and a a joy she rarely felt around her. She could easily name the times when she did, as they all had a common source, but surely she wasn’t here. That wouldn’t make sense.
No, it had to be her love for her craft. Her excitement masking the nervousness she felt for the great, retired choreographer that would supposedly be teaching them. Yes, that would do it, rather than-
Unbeknownst to Sarah, though it explained the feeling of joy that caressed her, as it always did when she saw Ingrid, the waves of happiness surging away from the young woman, Ingrid was the reason this had all happened. She was the one with enough connections to get her access to the class. She was the one who had talked to the choreographer herself.
And she was the one who now held a hot chocolate topped with whipped cream to Sarah as she shifted from foot to foot, unable to make eye contact with the demoness. “I, uh, wanted to give you a free cup of your favorite to help calm your nerves. They hired the Devil’s Ring’s portable coffee cart for this, and when I saw you, I knew I had to help, at least a little.”
Sarah didn’t consider the fact that Ingrid didn’t have enough time to make the drink, nor the fact that it was a little closer to room temperature than it should have been, but instead smiled, before reaching out and gently embracing Ingrid. It was the second time the two had done so, the first being when Asa was asking about work at the Devil’s Ring the day after Sarah had been fired. It was a close hug, with almost no space between the two girls, as Sarah saw no need for such things between her and such a good friend.
And the wave of warmth that flooded her made Sarah hum into Ingrid’s ear, a noise that made the poor girl, dressed in black, almost melt into a puddle of sunshine. Thus was the power of a grand demon like Sarah though, or so Ingrid told herself as they seperated.
Sarah opened her mouth to thank her friend for the drink and support, but the sound of a door slamming open stopped her dead. Out from it came a woman with shining, blonde hair, kept in a bun behind her head. Her blue eyes froze most in the room, and they narrowed at the sight of Sarah.
Before they softened, and the vines on Sarah’s arms retreated to beneath her leotard, and only one in the class could see any abnormality on the young woman. She didn’t use the spell often, and she felt like a fool for having not used it before, as it and a memory shift spell were both taxing on her, but it did the trick. Instead of the instructor screaming at some make-up covered freak, the german ballet dancer smiled at what she could see as herself in her youth.
Sarah, for all accounts and purposes, looked completely human, with long blonde hair, shiny blue eyes, and pale, white skin. Ingrid didn’t know what to say as she stepped back, not wanting to suddenly be caught under the older woman’s gaze. Not when she was having to give her free drinks already because of the woman’s hate for her anyways.
The woman didn’t slow down though as she came up to Sarah. Her gaze made the young demoness want to shrink away, but she was also only human, and Sarah had dealt with much worse than humans. As such, she only gained more approval from the woman as she performed a small curtsy.
“You must be Sarah. From what I’ve been told, you have no professional experience as a dancer, no formal training, but I should for some reason care about you being here. Show me why. Now.”
Ingrid sucked her lips in, having had to take up a collection amongst her followers to pay for the ransom that the cunt in front of her had demanded to get Sarah in, but so long as she was allowed to stay, Ingrid could do nothing. Nor would she, not in front of her goddess.
Luckily for everyone involved, Sarah merely smiled, not knowing who to thank for the recommendation, but knowing she could prove herself. So, she stepped forward, and began. There was no music to accompany her movements, only mental tickings up to eight as each move was performed. Everyone watching except Ingrid knew the timing for the maneuvers, while Ingrid merely felt her mouth hang open.
To Ingrid, Sarah was like the wind. Any spin was done without fault, any small jump or leap done as if without gravity. It came with heat though, like a summer breeze, as Sarah performed a routine taught to her by her homeland, performing movements that none in the room had seen, especially more of the provocative ones. None were as daring as what she’d done before on a poll, but they accentuated her ample bosom, her firm thighs, and those long, long legs that Ingrid could lose herself in.
At least, until the teacher grabbed one of Sarah’s legs while it was kept high in the air. For a moment, Sarah faltered, before fixing her balance and swallowing hard. Ingrid almost screamed at the woman for stopping the performance, but instead just grit her teeth.
The teacher moved forward, keeping pressure on Sarah’s leg as she ran her hand down the underside of Sarah’s thigh. The pressure was always there, and the demoness’s cheeks turned pink the lower the hand got. The closer to intimate flesh they conquered on her, but she didn’t dare move, even as a rising wave of something almost pitch black in her mind began to be felt around her.
Now though, some of the warmth she felt from Ingrid came from this older woman, who whispered too low for anyone else to hear. “My name is Olga. I have danced professionally for twenty years. I was trained since I was three, and graduated from Julliard, and yet I’ve never seen someone like you. Your technique needs little improvement, your grace is almost unparalleled, and while your routine is rough and more for common folk it… Holds my attention better than anything the other twits here sent me.”
Olga reached out, caressing one of Sarah’s cheeks, before whispering, “You are accepted in this class, and I look forward to what you will show me.”
Sarah whispered, “Thank you,” before her leg was released, and she slowly got back to her feet. The words were unbelievably kind, and one of the other students had even fainted from the smile on Olga’s face, but Sarah still felt cold.
She glanced over to Ingrid, who looked out of it, staring into nothing while a shadow loomed over her.
A shadow Sarah knew all too well.