Fritz speaks lowly in Bel’s ear. She’s giggling at his lewd suggestions for revisiting some of the activities we partook in when we were here visiting the first time. She shoves him away, scolding him and leaning into me, somehow thinking that I will be the safer option.
“If you’re not looking to be part of a demon sandwich,” Fritz teases, tugging on an errand curl of her hair, “I’m sure Caspian would love to chase you through the dance floor again. Might actually be a challenge this time with all the people packed in here.”
I growl in her ear, gently biting it and pulling a glorious blush from her.
“No,” she says empathically. “Nothing like that tonight.”
Fritz whines, “But it’s beenso long.”
She laughs in his face, “Isla’s only been here for like a week.”
He throws his hands in the air like she’s proved him right, “Yes! An entire week of not being allowed to eventouchyou. Completely unfair, I tell you.”
As she laughs again, our server arrives with a whole spread, several bottles of liquor on the tray he’s carrying, along with other colorful drinks, presumably forchasingor mixing. Alcohol is far different now than it was centuries ago. While it’s a vast improvement, the strength of the beverages served is astronomical at times.
Without a moment’s pause, Isla pours a glass of vodka— pointedly ignoring the tequila Eamon specifically ordered— and some canned something, gesturing it at Bel, who takes it enthusiastically. Once Isla hands it off, she makes herself one before standing and gesturing for Bel to follow. Hands entwined, they vanish into the crowd to dance.
“So,” Fritz turns to our guest, “you didn’t think to send us a warning text that you’d be joining us tonight?”
Eamon laughs, taking the brown liquor and pouring three glasses of it. “I thought it’d be fun to surprise you. And it was.”
Fritz takes one of the drinks, pointing it at Eamon, “For you, maybe. You just about gave me a heart attack thinking Isla was going to blame meagain.”
With a lighthearted eye-roll, Eamon hands me the last drink, “You can’t honestly be afraid of that little woman.”
“Of course I am,” Fritz scoffs, and I contain a laugh that wants to escape, “And you would be too if you had any sense of self-preservation.”
A laugh escapes Eamon, nearly drowning out everything else around us with its volume. He slaps Fritz on the back and stands, scanning the crowd. His eyes must find their target because he sits back down, continuing laughing and chatting with Fritz like he’s not here explicitly to torment Isla.
When the girls return a few songs later, they’re both red-faced and smiling from ear to ear from the booze warming their systems. I realize this must be what their nights out looked like all the time before Fritz and I came along. Just the two of them gallivanting across their little town and causing jaws to drop all along the way.
“Come dance!” Bel shouts, urging us to join them, “But no funny business.”
“No funny business?” Fritz puts a hand on his chest in mock offense, “Please, Belissenda, it’s like you don’t know me at all.” He follows behind them, off into the overcrowded, sweaty masses. He shoots me a questioning look, but I shake my head. I’d rather not get into that right now, as I did kill someone for putting their hands on her in a setting like this not long ago.
“So, tell me really,” Eamon begins, “How are things?”
I take another sip of my dark drink, “They’re wonderful. Bel is a dream come true, and Fritz is my dearest friend. My only friend. The way it’s worked out for us is more than anything I could have wished for.”
His eyes narrow slightly, “And yet you’re thinkin’ about going back to break out others? Burst your perfect little bubble by getting everyone killed?”
“Is that why you’re really here? To issue more warnings?” I refill my glass, knowing I’ll need it to continue this conversation.
“In part,” he concedes. “I don’t trust Fritz will listen to me, but you’ve gotta have more sense than him. Hopefully. Otherwise, you’re all fucked.”
I consider my words, “Bel is… tenacious. She’s determined. She saw things in there that-”
He not so gently places his glass on the table, “Yeah, we’ve all fuckin seen things when it comes to the Sanctus Sculitis. That’s why I’m warning you to leave it alone.”
“Eamon,” I try, “I truly wish I could just let it be. But Bel is more warrior than woman sometimes, and if she heads into battle, I will follow. I will follow every time without pause or concern for my own well-being.”
“Then you’ll be back in Vankhala before you can even enjoy this gift you’ve been given.”
The conversation abruptly ends, Eamon standing and heading into the crowd with a scowl on his face that would terrify even the most well-trained of hunters.
???
A few hours pass of drinking, being pushed into dancing with the girls, drinking some more, and trying to curb my appetite for violence. But the men here have my teeth aching to come out and tear someone to shreds. The amount of unwelcome hands I’ve seen is enough to turn my stomach.
