Alaric let the unconscious forms of the twin sisters, Lila and Nyla, drift gently towards the shallow edge of the pool. They looked like two pale water lilies, utterly spent, floating slackly in the warm, steaming water. Appetizers finished.
He turned, his disguised face (still Reginald's, but the eyes behind the mask were pure Alaric) scanning the remaining conscious women.
Anya, the dancer, stood poised and waiting on the smooth rocks, her wet body gleaming like polished ivory in the bright afternoon sun.
Juliana, the quiet one, floated near the edge, her large breasts buoyant in the water, her eyes like deep, unreadable pools, watching him with a mixture of fear and fascination.
And Elaine, Eleanor's mother, still waited, her expression like still water, calm and resigned on the surface, but who knew what currents ran beneath.
