Shit. This can’t be good.
Aine whipped around, snapping, “Who?”
And just like that—understanding slammed into me like a sidewalk to a drunk face. Of course. The goddamn Liplock potion.
I groaned, rubbing my temples in frustration. “How am I supposed to know? Maybe you messed up the potion because there’s no way in hell I’d be attracted to any of these—” The words instantly died in my throat.
There across the room, in my direct line of sight, sat an unfairly handsome dark-haired man. He leaned across a table in a private booth, locked in serious conversation. Broad muscular shoulders in a dark fitted shirt, careful controlled movements, and a deeply furrowed brow. He was unmistakable.
Pogue.
29
CARWYNN
A cinderblockof weight plummeted in my stomach as panic swept in.
This was too much. Ifelttoo much.
Breena and Aine simultaneously stilled, trailing the direction of my widened eyes.
“I. Knew. It!” Breena shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger in my face.
Aine shook her head in mock disappointment.
“Ya little liar!” she tsked, half-amused, half-condemning. “I could smell it on ya from a mile away! You’re a smack-me-with-your-shadows-and-pull-my-hair kind of girl!”
My entire body ignited. I just knew the flush was crawling up my neck, into my cheeks, and my awareness of that made it ten times worse.
Alcohol. I needed alcohol. Immediately.
“Shots. Many of them. Right fucking now!” I commanded, spinning toward the bar like my life depended on it.
Probably sensing my desperation, or spotting my wild eyes,the bartender swooped over. His gold-flecked skin glimmered under the orb lights. Definitely another Si.
“What’s ya poison of choice?” His voice was smooth, effortless. The sound of a man who’d served a thousand wretched souls like mine.
“Whatever gets me shitfaced the quickest.” I locked eyes with him, pleading, as if silently communicating that I was being held hostage and needed a way out.
Breena slammed her hand on to the bar as she danced in place to the music. Each sway had her minty-green dress glittering.
“One Forgotten Name shot for me!”
“And one Lucky Bastard for me.” Aine sighed, already resigned from this night.
The bartender’s shimmering cheeks hiked up into a knowing smirk. “You got it!” He gave me a telling wink.
His hands must’ve worked at the speed of light because he reappeared a mere few seconds later, and dropped down our glasses.
I eyed the murky green shot suspiciously.
He noticed and flung me another teasing wink, this time with an encouraging nod.
“If you ladies are looking for some real fun, Rainbow Roulette will be starting shortly.”
“Stop! I love that game!” Breena cheered like a lottery winner.
Aine was already visibly withdrawing. “Ohhhhh no. No, no, no!” she said, adamantly shaking her head. “Last time, I had hooves for seven hours!”
