Maybe the reception in the bar was bad.
I stepped outside, and the autumn night air pricked at my exposed skin, a stark contrast to the weather this afternoon.
No missed calls or new text messages.
My finger hovered over Grey’s name, and Iaccidentallyhit the call button. It rang three times before a gruff voice on the other end picked up.
“Yeah?” Grey answered.
Music filtered out of the bar as the group of guys who bought us the round of shots walked out. They hollered, and one actually howled at the moon.
“Well, hello to you, too.” My words slurred together.
“Where are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yeah, that’s why I fucking asked.” Irritation filled his tone. “Are you drunk?”
“Maybe just a tiny-weenie-little-bit.” I gestured with my thumb and pointer finger before remembering we were talking on the phone.
One of the guys from the group leaned over. “Sorry to interrupt, but do you have a lighter by chance?”
I removed the phone from my ear as I rummaged through my purse, passing him one from the bottom of my bag. I’d thrown it in there after the events of the gala, along with a few other items that might be useful: chalk, if I needed to draw a hell’s trap, a lighter, and a vial of holy water. You could never be too safe.
“Thank you so much.” He held the lighter above his head, jumping up and down. “Benny, I found one! You don’t have to throw yourself off a building, now!”
“Lyra,” Grey growled.
Oops, forgot I was still on the phone.
“Sorry, I got to go,” I said, ending the call. My heart hammered from hearing his voice. Drunk dialing Grey was a lapse of judgment. A stupid mistake. I stuffed my phone back into my purse and walked back into the bar.
“Don’t forget this!” The guy ran up to me with my lighter, readjusting his backward baseball hat. “I owe you one.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me.” The words were laced with confidence thanks to all the liquid courage I’d drank tonight.
Music roared from the speakers as I stepped back inside, making it impossible to hear anything. I leaned over the bar to scream my order. “One whiskey ginger,” I hollered, holding up my pointer finger in case she couldn’t understand me. But bartenders must have supersonic hearing because they always seemed to get your order right.
“Make that two,” a husky voice said behind me.
The cute guy from outside had followed me in.
CHAPTER 25
GREY
The little witch wanted to play games; well, she had better be prepared to lose.
The moment I stepped into the overcrowded bar; I smelled Lyra, and like a fucking weirdo, I inhaled deeply. Her scent clung to me, stirring something inside me I’d sworn never to feel again.
My eyes landed on the long hair she’d thrown up in a ponytail. Some creep lurked near her at the bar. She didn’t seem to mind the attention as she twirled the straw in her drink, laughing at something he said.
I rolled my shoulders, muscles flexing.
“Get the fuck out of here.” I wedged myself between him and Lyra.
“Wow, dude. What’s your problem?” The guy raised his hands in confusion.
