Celine perks up, and I grimace. “Not sure I need to see more.”
“But we’ve recently learned we don’t know anything about science,” Celine argues. “This could be helpful.”
I pretend to consider that, then shake my head. “Nope. I’m comfortable maintaining a certain level of ignorance.”
“You and every guy I’ve ever gone to bed with,” Imani teases.
I groan as all of them laugh at me. “You can’t blame me for every bad sex experience you’ve ever had with a man,” I complain. “Some of us take the time to learn.”
“Can confirm,” Ada says, winking at me as she pencils in her eyebrows. “Luca knows what he’s doing.”
They cheer at that, demanding I tell them about my secrets in graphic detail. I shake my head and focus back on the remaining tasks in front of me. I’ve got to fill out these inventory forms and send them off. The booze won’t restock itself. I’ve been practically running this place since the owner retired two years ago.
Celine sits silently, her mouth hanging slightly open as she applies her eye makeup. Her hand is solid as a rock as she paints dark lines above her eyelashes. Since I’m watching her closely, I notice her eyes flicker over to Ada before focusing back on her own mirror.
Ada and I slept together a few times after she moved to Vegas and before she started working at the club. It’s common knowledge around here, and it’s never made things weird.
Part of me can’t help hoping Celine didn’t like the reminder. That’s toxic. I know that, but I’ve never claimed to be a nice guy.Shit, I live in the Fringes for a reason, wear combat boots most days, and have no interest in becoming more civilized than I already am.
Glancing at my watch, I clear my throat, because gentleman or not, I’m a damn good manager and punctual as fuck. “Thirty-minute warning,” I call out, rolling my eyes at the chorus of groans they throw my way.
“We’ve got a big-ass clock right there, Luca,” Brandy whines, pointing at the wall with a turquoise nail covered in rhinestones.
“And yet you still manage to lose track of time,” I say. “Make it make sense.”
“I’m worth the wait,” she grumbles.
“Yeah, you are, but imagine the tips you’d get if you were on time.” I wink at her and leave the room with my stack of clean towels so they can finish getting ready. I’ve got a bar to prep.
Alistair is back. He grins a fang-baring smile at me when I serve him his Blood Tide without a tomato, seeming strangely pleased that I’m not actively trying to kill him.
I shake my head, keeping a close eye on the other complication breathing down my neck tonight: the flirty blond demon.
“She’s incredible,” he says as Celine pulls off an aerial maneuver that used to scare me to death every time she practiced it.
I grunt in agreement. “Wait until you see the next part.”
The demon focuses on her dance, audibly sucking in air as Celine flips backward off the pole and uses her wings to flutter gracefully to the stage.
“Damn!” He whistles, shaking his head. “Do you know if she dates demons?”
I imagine biting his head off and feeding it to him,then shrug and smile blandly instead. “Who Celine dates is her business,” I say.
I could tell him the last demon who showed interest in her could successfully cosplay as the sand in the desert right about now, but I don’t bother.If he finds out the hard way, that’s his problem.
Celine’s song ends, and unease tingles at the base of my spine. She always comes to the bar for her post-dance water. I love the ritual, but I wish she would skip it tonight. The demon’s black eyes are far too interested, and Alistair is only a little better. Like clockwork, though, she heads my way, crossing the room in a handful of determined strides. Internally, I sigh, bending over to get her a fresh, cold water bottle from the mini fridge.
“Thanks,” she says, taking the bottle from my hand and drinking half of it in one long swallow. Her throat bobs in the club lights, and I’m momentarily transfixed.
“Nice move,” the demon says to her, gulping as she turns his way. “The backflip, I mean.”
Celine dips her chin in response but doesn’t add anything to encourage him or the conversation. A petty sense of satisfaction rises inside me as his face falls.
“Amazing as always, angel,” Alistair says, wedging himself between Celine and the stranger, then leaning over the bar. “Can I get another round?”
I nod and begin making his drink. My good mood returns as Celine sidesteps Alistair and shoots him a peeved look. He grins at her, flashing fang.
“Personal space, Alistair,” Celine mutters.
