“I love it,” I say, rising to my feet before Shathar can. I take her hand in mine, bring it to my lips, and kiss the back of it, as I saw in the movies. “You are radiant.”
She giggles. “Thank you. You both look handsome, too.”
Shathar does look sharp. I hate that even though he is smaller and slimmer, he has a grace to him that I lack. He gets to his feet as well and offers Fiona his arm.
“Shall we go?”
Fiona says she is “requesting a car” on her phone, and one appears only a few minutes later. It carries us into the city, but a different part this time, one where all the buildings have glowing neon signs hanging above them and loud music pounds behind tinted windows.
“You have your visas?” she asks as we get into a line of people waiting to go inside.
I pull mine out of my pocket, and so does Shathar. When we reach the big woman standing guard at the door, Fiona presents her identification, and then our visas. The woman granting us admission eyes Shathar and me from head to toe.
“Wow, aliens.” She cocks her head. “Don’t drink too much. Last alien that came in here didn’t know what he was getting into.”
Then she returns our identification and we’re ushered inside. Immediately, we’re met with a wall of noise—heavy, throbbing music so loud that it rattles my very bones. The light is dim except for where bright spotlights in various colors shine down from the ceiling, illuminating the mass of people filling the space.
I’ve never seen anything like it. We hold some large gatherings on Arshur, but they are typically outdoors, never crammed into a small space like this one.
“Hold onto me!” Fiona calls to us. Shathar and I each take one of her hands as she winds through the crowd, and we have to push others out of our way to stay behind her.
But I will never let her go.
Chapter Sixteen
Fiona
I shepherd my two alien husbands to the bar, then shoot off a text message to Amara and Marguerite to let them know we’re here. The bartender approaches us with her eyebrows raised.
“Haven’t gotten to serve an alien yet,” she remarks, leaning forward over the bar toward Shathar. “What would you like to drink?”
Shathar gives me a pleading look at this question, so I quickly hop in.
“Three vodka cranberries,” I say, deciding on something we might all like. The juice is strong, so hopefully the flavor of the alcohol isn’t overwhelming for first-timers.
The bartender winks. “Coming right up.”
Khesan observes everything around us like a bodyguard, while Shathar focuses on what the bartender is doing. When our drinks arrive a few moments later, I quickly pass over my credit card and keep the tab open. Who knows how tonight will go?
I get a text from Marguerite saying she’s already found a table, so I gesture for Khesan and Shathar to follow. Eventually, we come across where Marguerite has planted herself, along with Amara and Roth’kar.
“Hey!” Amara claps as we find seats across from her. “You made it. You three sure look good.”
“I’ve got excellent arm candy,” I say.
“What is this arm candy?” asks Shathar, leaning closer. “Candy shaped like arms?”
I snort. “Just means the two of you are hot.”
Khesan cocks his head. “My temperature feels normal.”
Amara bursts out into a laugh, and even Roth’kar smiles. It wasn’t long ago that he was brand new to Earth slang, too.
On my left, Shathar sips his drink enthusiastically. “This is delicious.”
“Don’t drink it too fast,” I caution him. “It tastes good, which is what makes it dangerous.”
Marguerite crosses her arms, and I think the interrogation is coming. I should have warned Khesan and Shathar about Marguerite, but I didn’t remember. Now it’s too late.
