The woman's face dropped in disappointment; her expression crestfallen.
"I was wondering if you could help me, though," I said, seeing an opportunity.
Her expression brightened.
"Is there anything you can tell me about the Scattered?" I asked.
It wasn't the best transition, lacking in subtlety, but it was the best I could manage.
Her face shut down, her eyes dimming. I could see her withdrawing, her eyes darting around as she checked for escape routes.
Before she could, a masculine hand plucked a glass of wine from her tray.
Peter threw the contents down his throat, reaching for another immediately after.
"I'd slow down if I were you," I warned. "That stuff packs a wallop."
He met my gaze, never taking his eyes off mine as he grabbed another glass and then chugged that one as well.
My mouth quirked. Did he think he was hurting me by getting stupid drunk? I wasn't the one who'd make a fool of myself.
The server took advantage of his distraction, darting off before I could stop her.
"Damn," I muttered.
"Scattered, huh? Those are some dangerous people."
My gaze swung to him. "What do you know about them?"
He took a long swig of the wine. "More than you, apparently."
Before I could respond, Caroline appeared holding two glasses, one of which she tried to hand to me.
"Last time wasn't enough for you?" I asked, refusing to take the offered glass.
She arched an eyebrow and jiggled the glass at me. "If you don't take it, I'll be forced to drink both these by myself."
"You could always put it back."
Caroline's shot me a look that said she thought I might have been raised by wolves.
Since only one of us regularly spent time with the furred assassins, I ignored her.
"That goes against every social etiquette in the rule book," Caroline said.
"And also violates our host's guesting laws," Peter said in a bored tone. "Once you take something, it's yours. Returning it has consequences."
Resigned, I took the glass from Caroline. As much as I hadn't planned on drinking tonight, wanting to be alert and aware at all times, I also didn't want Caroline drinking both glasses.
"Who's this?" Caroline gave Peter a once over.
Confused, I didn't answer. It took a second for realize why she didn’t recognize him.
Caroline had never met the grown-up Peter. Her only interaction with him would have been as a prepubescent teen.
"It's Peter," I said.
Her confusion didn’t lessen.
