Deedee gave our group a collective, disgusted once-over then sighed. “What do you say, Lulu? Share a drink for old time’s sake?”
In spite of every bone in my body warning me against it, I said, “Sure.”
Chapter Thirty
One bad decision.
One bad
decision is all it takes to change the course of a night, or even the course of a life. I couldn’t speak for the rest of my future, but I was willing to bet agreeing to go to Foxtail had permanently fucked up my evening.
I’d have much rather spent the night in my room eating cold Chinese food and enjoying some quality time with my sister. Or discussing the cleric-initiate panel with Sawyer to see if it had stirred up any inklings for her.
Instead, I was sitting in a leather booth, staring at an open-air patio, watching half-drunk clerics dance while equally half-drunk normies jumped in and out of the pool.
The music was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think, let alone carry on any kind of conversation.
Sawyer was in her glory.
I had managed to convince the club to let her in because of her status as my initiate—something they wouldn’t be able to verify one way or the other—and explaining the gods needed her to stay by my side. I had to promise not to let her drink—duh—and keep an eye on her at all times.
This, of course, meant I had forbidden her to leave the VIP booth and was stuck sitting with her instead of doing any mingling at all. Fine by me, honestly. There weren’t a lot of people here I wanted to mingle with anyway.
We hadn’t even been in the club fifteen minutes before the bulk of our group vanished onto the dance floor. Deedee, Tawny, Ana, and Constance found the rest of their friends and were currently shaking their groove things around the pool with full glasses of vodka-crans to keep them going.
It seemed like every time a bottle of booze emptied another one would magically appear to replace it.
Leo had seized the opportunity to impress my sister by inviting Sunny to join him on the dance floor. I could see them both, his huge frame and her shiny pale hair, writhing to the DJ’s intense beat. Judging by their matching smiles and the fits of laughter Sunny lapsed into every minute or so, they appeared to be having the time of their lives.
Even Prescott had astonished me. After downing his first tequila shot, he ignored all the stares and sneers of the girls we’d come with and joined a group of strangers near the stage. He was currently dancing with a woman in a bachelorette party sash, and was wearing her plastic tiara in his perfectly coifed hair.
Cade, on the other hand, appeared to have no interest in fun and frivolity. He was sitting on the opposite end of the booth with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, surveying the crowd with a grim expression on his face.
“Hey,” I shouted, trying to get his attention over the throbbing thump-thump-thump of the bass. Sawyer was too busy dancing in her seat and trying to spot celebrities to bother listening to me. I grabbed an ice cube from the bucket on the table and hurled it at Cade. “Hey.”
He swiveled his head towards me, and I offered him my best, most apologetic smile. I felt a bit guilty for dragging him here, knowing full well that if Cade had his own personal version of the underworld, this was probably it.
“Can you do me a favor?” I was practically screaming, and even then he furrowed his brow in confusion. He obviously couldn’t hear me.
I scooted a little closer but kept some distance all the same. Out here in public there were too many eyes, too many chances for someone to spot us if we slipped up. I didn’t want to risk getting in trouble.
“Can you do me a favor?” I repeated when I was near enough to speak at a normal volume.
“That depends.” He sipped his drink. “Is it a personal favor?” His foot grazed mine under the table, and my heart tripled its beat, stuttering wildly from even such a small touch.
I found myself momentarily unable to speak, my breath caught in my throat while I tried to decide if he’d done it intentionally or by accident. His eyes had a faintly glassy sheen, so this wasn’t his first drink of the evening.
I traced my toe along the line of his shoe, testing the water.
His sour expression changed slightly, almost imperceptibly, and he nudged me back.
“What’s the favor?” he asked, leaning a bit closer under the pretense of being unable to hear me. He smelled impossibly good, like bergamot and fresh linen.
The bass thrummed, bright lights flashed, and the world around us was an undistinguishable mass of bodies and laughter and noise. But in that instant all I could see was his whiskey-brown eyes, which matched the shimmering amber liquid in his glass.
Remembering myself, I cleared my throat and leaned back a bit. “Can you maybe use a little of that hoodoo of yours on Leo? He’s got some pretty smooth moves, and I don’t think my sister will be able to resist them for long.” I nodded to where they were dancing, Sunny’s arms draped lazily around Leo’s neck, her head tossed back as she laughed at something he said.
I’d met Leo. He was not that funny.