March 18th
The alarm clock blared, and I groaned. My head was pounding. I hadn’t opened my eyes, yet I was already regretting last night. Turning over, I gave myself a second to get my bearings. I slapped around in the general vicinity of the alarm clock to turn the fucking thing off. Only, when I fumbled around for the damn thing, an electric shock shot up my spine as my hand made contact with someone else’s skin instead.
What the fuck?
I stilled as I pulled my hand back, forcing myself to take even breaths. This was fine. If I didn’t open my eyes, the woman in bed with me wouldn’t even know I was awake, right? I was panicking. I forced my eyes open, willing myself to remain quiet as the light peeking through the blinds pierced my hungover brain. I wasn’t in my own bed, and I was naked, a stranger next to me, with no recollection of what happened last night.
Nothing was making any sense. The room smelled vaguely of the burnt scent of amber, like Demons. Underneath the scent of brimstone, hints of juniper and lavender calmed some of the nausea from whatever poor decision I’d made last night. Theunnamed woman hadn’t stirred at the alarm clock going off, nor at me slapping around and hitting her instead. Hadn’t she felt that electric shock as I had?Too much thinking already, Adaela.
I tried to disentangle myself from the sheets without waking her. In my panicked state, I raced over to where the alarm clock was to turn it completely off so that she wouldn’t wake up. What the hell had I been thinking? I found my jeans, a bright green cardigan, and a “Kiss me, I’m Irish” T-shirt I thought was appropriate yesterday. Today, not so much. I scrambled around for my bag, throwing my undergarments in it in a rush to get out of there without the awkward morning-after conversation.
At least I did well for myself?I huffed a laugh under my breath. Whoever this mystery woman was, she was a knockout. Her long, dark brown hair was tied up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck. She had full lips, a strong jawline, and curves for days. Her dark olive skin gleamed in the sunlight peeking in from the window. Goddess bless. Though I could only see part of her face, I could imagine that her eyes matched the exquisite body hidden under that sheet, a deep umber color as dark as parts of Underhill itself. The small of her back was exposed to the morning light, and she lay with her head on her arm, out to the world.
I wished I could’ve slept like that. If she had moved out of the bed like I had, I would have instantly woken up. But I couldn’t remember anything about last night, so maybe I was lying to myself.
My stomach gave a little flutter, and I shivered at the thought of seeing her again. I mentally chastised myself. I wasn’t one to pick someone up at the bar, so I didn’t really know the etiquette here. It had been, what, 200 years or sosince I last left a bar with a one-night stand? Did I just do the walk of shame and never speak with her again? What was that electric shock? Who was she?
Shaking my head to rid my anxious brain of all the questions, I left the room in search of a pen and paper. It seemed more prudent to let her sleep than to wake her and ask questions I wasn’t sure I wanted answers to just yet.
The woman’s bedroom made up the entirety of an upstairs loft. Exposed brick and HVAC systems opened from a balcony wall that overlooked the rest of the space with floor-to-ceiling windows. It wasn’t a big apartment by any means, but it had style.
Brusquely making my way down the stairs, I glanced around at her home, reminiscing about how my early days here in St. Louis had been spent living in a building like this. There were two doors on the main floor, one leading to a communal garden, and the other presumably to the hallway entrance. The garden was a nice feature—a peaceful oasis carved out into the bustle of city life.
Gathering myself, I found a notebook and pen sitting on a console table near the front door, then left my name and number on the counter in her admittedly cluttered kitchen. I probably didn’t need to leave the note, but the tension left my body by doing so.
In my rush to figure out where I was and how to exit the building, I ran hard into someone leaving their own home. I letout an oomph as I reached out to catch myself, only to realize that I’d inadvertently grabbed their hips instead of the wall as they stumbled back. Quickly righting myself, I cursed under my breath, face flaming. I was usually on my game and knew to keep my senses open to threats.I am never drinking again.Huffing at that obvious lie, I went to apologize to the person I ran into. My lips curved up into a bright smile almost without thought instead.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Maren. I didn’t see you there. You look cute today. Fab outfit,” I rambled nervously. Maren, one of the Coven leaders of theCatervae Pax, was one of the kindest women I had ever known. My shadows took that moment to break free of their confines to zoom around her happily before comfortably finding their place back at my center.
“Adaela, what are you doing here? I thought you lived on the other side of the city,” Maren said with a glint in her eye.
I blushed and laughed nervously, making my head throb in sync with the beat of my heart. I wasn’t sure how to answer her, since Fae couldn’t lie. Scratching my head, I replied, “I guess I had a little too much to drink yesterday, and someone let me crash their place. What are you doing up at,” I glanced at my phone, “6:30 in the morning?”
Maren snorted, bending forward and reaching for the door jamb. It was effortlessly sexy. Her chic orange-ish coverall getup fit her plus-sized figure nicely. She had tattoos everywhere in bright patterns covering her pale skin, which also matched the outfit she was wearing perfectly.
“Yes, I saw you briefly. It seemed like you were having fun with Vada, seeing as she carried you in last night. I’m heading into the office to check on the little plant beasties. They get upset when they’re not watered on time. Did I see you chatting with Hecate last night?” she asked.
I tried to think back on what happened. It was SaintPatrick’s Day in St. Louis, and any excuse to party in this city, my friends forced me to go mingle. We didn’t even like the idea of Saint Patrick’s Day, but they loved to socialize. I was admittedly a hermit of epic proportions, preferring to sit at home reminiscing about philosophy rather than spending time in public. My friends were the sort of extroverts who demanded my presence at events.
Slowly, I shook my head out of my meandering thoughts so I wouldn’t rattle my beer-sloshed brain. “Yeah, I don’t exactly recall the conversation right now, but I think it had to do with theCatervae Pax.”
Maren nodded once. “Well, if you need to get in contact with Hecate again, I can pass along your contact information.”
“I would love that if you could.” My phone was blowing up, and my attention on the conversation wavered. “I’m so sorry, Maren, but I have to take this. We should catch up soon.”
“Definitely. Let’s grab coffee next weekend?”she asked.
“Sounds like a plan. Before I head out, could you, uh, tell me where I’m at?” I scratched at my neck, embarrassed.
Maren tilted her head, confusion plastered on her face, “Adaela, how much did you have to drink last night?”
“Uh, I don’t really know. I have a hangover from Hell, though.” The room was still spinning a bit, in fact. I leaned against the wall to stabilize the world around me.
“Honey, you’re in The Grove.” Maren’s brows furrowed in concern. “Do you have your keys on you, or was your car left elsewhere? Are you safe to drive home?”
Well, at least I’m still where I last remember being.I dug around in my belt bag for my keys. Finding them, I clutched them in my hands. “I’ve really got to let the group know I’m okay. I’ll catch you later?”
“Hey, just a second. I think I have something that’ll fix that hangover right up.” Maren shooed her cat back in with her foot before closing the door.
