Tristan tore a frustrated hand through his hair, pulling several strands from his knot.
“Nothing,” he grumbled. “Let’s go.”
He wasn’t surewhathe was doing to her.
But she was carving out his heart.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
Reena and Hella squealed, leaping from their seats as the band plucked out the first notes of a popular new song from the continent. Reena tugged on Cassandra’s hand, beckoning her to join them on the rollicking dance floor at the Fang and Claw’s weekly live music night.
But Cassandra didn’t know the song. Nor was she feeling particularly joyful. Not after that awkward exchange with Tristan before they’d all come over to the tavern together to await Borea and the night’s obliviates.
Tristan hadn’t said another word to her, had sidled over to the bar as soon as they’d arrived. He was still sitting there, alone. Brushing off the many males and females who approached him.
Not that Cassandra was keeping tabs on him or anything.
She leaned against the wall, shrouded in shadows, and swigged her drink—a bubbly concoction with a spicy bite of ginger and plenty of liquor. Reena’s pours were nothing if not generous.
Cassandra tapped her feet to the addictive beat, content to watch her new friends jump and twirl with the crowd, the bobbing pendant lights swaying like falling stars above them.
Cassandra rubbed at her new tattoo as Reena and Hella bounded back to the table, breathing calmly despite their boisterous dancing. Cassandra marveled at their glorious Fae stamina, knew she would’ve been a sweating, panting mess if she’d joined them.
Hella climbed onto the seat opposite Cassandra, carefully angling her wings over the back of the stool while Reena draped herself onto the seat between them. She signaled to one of her staff to refill their drinks.
“Another, sweetie?” Reena asked Cassandra. “Looks like you enjoyed it.”
Cassandra drained the rest of the drink and licked her lips, her mind floaty and her limbs deliciously warm. “As long as it’s not Aguaver.”
Hella raised a golden eyebrow. “There is story here, yes?”
Reena flipped long, auburn locks over her shoulder, oozing one of her trademark sultry chuckles. “Cass here got shitfaced on the stuff a few weeks ago. That night when Tristan was poisoned by Opheron. As soon as I left them alone, she practically jumped his bones. Ended up sleeping on top of him the whole night.”
Cassandra choked on her tongue. “How in the name of Stygios do you know that?” Her eyes darted to the black-winged male sulking at the bar and she lowered her voice. “Did Tristan tell you?”
Reena grazed her matte-black fingernails across Cassandra’s cheek, encouraging her to look towards a sleek black box nestled in the upper corner of the room. “Is that,” Cassandra sputtered, “an opticorder?”
Reena nodded. “I take security here very seriously, sugar. And my nosy, dirty little mind couldn’t help but wonder what you two were up to.”
Hella’s snorting laughter drew an indignant glare from Cassandra. “I want see.”
“I destroyed it already,” Reena said. “Figured you wouldn’t want any concrete evidence that you broke the rules of your order.”
“Thank you,” Cassandra responded primly.
“But now that you’re no longer a member of that order…” Reena’s breathy voice trailed off suggestively.
“And working with object of affection…” Hella added with a saucy wink.
“Oh, you two are worse than Xenia.” Cassandra’s giggle caught in her throat, sorrow squeezing her chest. She knew Xenia was out of any immediate danger. But until Cass could wrap her arms around her friend again, she would continue to worry.
“Seriously, sugar, what’s going on between you two?” Reena asked, just as the bartender approached with their drinks. A tall glass filled with that fizzy, gingery concoction for Cassandra, a low tumbler of amber liquid for Reena, and a goblet brimming with pink and orange swirls for Hella.
Cassandra barked out a laugh. “What are you drinking, Hella?”
“Sex on Beach,” Hella answered in a matter-of-fact voice, as if it were the most obvious drink order in the world.
“Oh no, nuh-uh,” Reena scolded. “You’re not glossing over the subject that easily. Spill it.”
