“Inviting me into yours? I accept.” The smug fuck winks, and I shake my head at his antics and remind myself not to overreact. I’ve never heard of him hurting someone for no reason, but he’s got a hell of a reputation around here, and you can never be too careful.
“In your dreams,” Celine purrs, cocking her hip.
Alistair closes his eyes and smiles a crooked grin that spells nothing but trouble. “Only every single night, love.”
Celine laughs out loud, her real laugh, throaty and loud. “Alistair, you never miss a beat.”
“I try not to, angel.” He turns to face the demon. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet. I’m Alistair.”
“Ciprian... Nice to meet you.”Did I imagine that pause after he said his name?Oh well, he wouldn’t be the only one using an alias in this club. It’s not like I give a shit.
They size each other up, and Celine looks at me and rolls her eyes conspiratorially. I bite my bottom lip, chewing on the ring there to keep my mouth shut.
“Harry tells me there’s a new mouth to feed,” Alistair says, drawing my attention back to him in a flash. Celine’s calm amusement fades, and the look she levels at him is far from friendly.
“Why do you care?” she demands, her wings glowing like banked embers. I eye the smoke detector nervously, then shoot her a warning look.
“Simply making conversation.” Alistair holds his hands out, palms up. “I stop by from time to time to make sure she has everything she needs.”That’s surprising, and oddly nice for a guy with Alistair’s reputation.
I hand him his finished drink, giving Celine a moment to get her anger under control. “I’m sure Harry appreciates your help,” I tell him.
“It’s the least I can do.” Alistair takes a sip. “If more of us had had someone like Harry watching out for us at that age . . .”
“Cheers to Harry.” I pour a shot of tequila and clink the glass against Alistair’s larger cup, then down it. I don’t make it a habit of drinking on the job, but in a strip club surrounded by unpredictable supernaturals, sometimes you need to take the edge off.
“I’m curious to hear how a woman ended up withthe name Harry,” Ciprian says, his black eyes glittering as he studies the three of us nosily.
“That’s a long story,” I lie without blinking. It isn’t. Her name is Harriet, and she used to dance here at the club, but that’s none of his godsdamn business. A regular stumbles to the corner and waves me over. “Duty calls,” I grunt, passing Celine another bottle of water, then shifting further down the bar.
I spend the next few hours mixing drinks and convincing the clientele I have to cut off not to punch me in the face. By the time the crowd thins, I’m dead on my feet, and my face hurts from smiling.
“You’re a master manipulator, man,” Ciprian says, his voice slurring around the trickier syllables. He hasn’t left the bar all night, watching mostly in silence. It’s been so long since he spoke, I didn’t realize how buzzed he was.
“Am I?” I ask, knowing enough about handling drunk people to avoid turning a conversation into an argument.
“Yeah.” He hiccups loudly. “It’s fucking amazing to watch.”
“Thanks, I think.” I laugh, shaking my head as the house lights bounce off his blond hair. It practically glows in the dark.
“No, seriously.” Ciprian picks up one of the discarded cocktail skewers and twists a straw paper around it. “You and the redhead both wrap them around your fingers, but your methods are completely different from hers. She’s fire—they can’t resist the heat, even if they know she’ll burn them, and you, you’re that green gel that gets slathered on after to soothe the sting. Total power couple.”
“We aren’t together,” I blurt, then imagine turning my own dumb ass to stone for being incredibly stupid. He’s interested in her. That’s obvious, and I practically gave him verbal permission to go for it.
“Hmm,” Ciprian says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”Fuck me, why am Iantagonizing him?This whole conversation is ridiculous. He might not even remember it tomorrow. But after the day I’ve had... it bothers me that this drunk stranger noticed our dynamic so easily. I feel almost bruised by it.
“Just trying to figure out who you’re lying to, me or yourself,” Ciprian drawls.
I narrow my eyes at him, and my basilisk stirs. “I’m closing your tab,” I snap. “You’re cut off for tonight.” My tone is abrasive as fuck. I wait for him to push back, but he doesn’t.
“I understand,” Ciprian says, climbing off his stool too gracefully for someone who has downed as many drinks as he has. “Before I go, have you seen this guy? He was supposed to meet me here a few days ago, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with him.”
I glance at his phone screen as he holds it out. Pain explodes in my gums. My fangs descend, and it’s only years of practice keeping my mouth shut that prevents me from visibly reacting. There, clear as day on his smudged phone screen, is the demon I turned to stone for Celine. Reacting on autopilot, I shake my head.
“Doesn’t look familiar,” I say. “Sorry about that.”
“Thanks anyway.” Ciprian takes off with a friendly wave, but again, I notice a slight hesitation. If he doesn’t believe me... I’ll have to kill him, too. For his sake, I hope he forgets all about his friend.
