A different kind of magic swirls around, infusing the very air with a rapturous energy. My blood and magic thrum through my veins and I spin, intent on joining them.
Half a step and my brain catches up with what I spotted in the crowd. Purple. Bright yet deep purple. It couldn’t be Mari. I swing around and search the sea of people for her distinctive hair. It takes me a minute to find the woman, and my shoulders drop as relief floods me. Definitely not her.
Except…yes. Yes, it fucking is.
Before I can fully think things through, I snap my fingers and manipulate the shadows created by the lights to vanish. Wings burst from my back, and I vault over the railing.
This is a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Ineeded this. More than I thought I did. Taking my mind off everything was the right move. As my hips sway to the music, my head empties. I ignore the sweat-soaked bodies brushing against me and let go. In my head, I’m an incredible dancer. My arms sway in a fluid motion, and my ass—oh my ass is on fire.
A giggle escapes me, and I clamp a hand over my mouth. “No giggling,” I whisper to myself and catch Percy’s eye.
“What are you doing?” she mouths. Or maybe she’s shouting and I just can’t hear her over the bass and people singing.
I shake my head, then drop my hand. Giggling isn’t my thing. I do not giggle. Except apparently when I’ve had more than a few drinks.
Now that I’ve stopped moving, I cringe at the sweat streaking down my neck and between my boobs. I lift my glass, then pout when I find it empty.
I grab Percy’s arm and haul her closer to shout in her ear. “Going to get another.”
She nods, and I snake my way through the crowd. I end up bumping into every single person as I make my way off through the sea of people. I forgot how crowded clubs get. Especially on a Saturday night. When I reach the edge of the dance floor, I pause to catch my breath.
I close my eyes as I inhale, trying to get my bearings. The floor sways beneath my feet, and I wonder if I’m at my limit yet. Will one more drink put me over the edge from happy buzz to blubbering mess?
One more. You deserve it.
For once, I don’t argue with the voice. “You have a good point. One more is an excellent idea.”
I glance around, wondering if anyone caught me talking to myself. Sometimes I forget how to act in public. I’ve been so focused on everything else, I usually opt to stay inside. What if my sister came home? What if she sent a distress signal and I wasn’t there? The guilt would eat me alive. This is the first time I’ve gone out since I moved to Lark’s place.
When I turn to plot my course to the bar, I freeze. A man stands several feet away, staring at me. He’s chiseled angles and dark mysteriousness. I snort at the thought. Is mysteriousness even a word? Another giggle threatens to escape, and I swallow it down, focusing on the man again. There’s something familiar yet enigmatic about him. I’d remember meeting a man like this.
I smooth my sweaty palms down my thighs, using the move to try to tug down the skin-tight dress. Lark must have shrunk since the last time I saw her. If she was wearing this, she wouldn’t be able to bend over without showing her whole ass. Much like me. Then again, I didn’t care after the fourth drink.
His brows pull low and his nostrils flare. I glance over my shoulder, hoping there’s someone behind me. When I swing back around, I stumble to the side. He takes a step as if he’llsomehow catch me, but I’m able to right myself. I wiggle my fingers at him with my bottom lip between my teeth.
Not sexy. Stop it.
Immediately, I drop my hand as my cheeks heat. He probably won’t be able to tell. I get red as a tomato when I dance. And when I exercise. And when I fuck. Another giggle escapes me, and I press my lips together in chagrin. I really need another drink to stop this weird phenomenon.
“He probably isn’t even looking at me,” I mutter, wobbling forward.
I shouldn’t have worn the heels. Percy convinced me, saying they’d be a good weapon should we get into trouble. It was a ridiculous argument. If someone were to attack us, we’re fucking witches. We could kick ass with our witchy selves. I snort, knowing the only thing I’ll be kicking is every piece of furniture in the house later.
The man steps into my path, and I move to the side. We’re in a strange dance I’m not entirely prepared for. Finally, he’s right in front of me. His dark hair flutters in what I assume is the air conditioning, though I’m still overheated.
“Excuse me,” I say sharper than I intended.
He shakes his head, and I huff. If he’s just going to stand there and stare, my buzz will flee faster than Jeremiah when threatened with shriveled balls. Then again, I did say I was open to having a good time. I scan him from his head to his toes, and his form wavers. Maybe I shouldn’t have another drink.
I paste on my best smile, intent on at least trying to flirt. “You come here often?”
Inwardly, I cringe. Outwardly, I show too many teeth and bobble my head. This is not fucking working. I’m too tipsy to flirt. He’s basically glaring at me like I stole his dog, anyway. I feel like a fool, and it doesn’t even make me feel good. This whole interaction is awkward and weird.
“Listen, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m taken,” I shout when the bass drops. Dimitri’s face pops into my head, and a genuine smile pulls at my lips. No, that bastard abandoned me for Hell. He might not have had a choice, but I didn’t even get a note, or a call, or a carrier pigeon. The least he could’ve done was let me know he’s okay.
The ball of fear I’ve been studiously ignoring pulses in my gut. He could be dead. Do demons die? I can’t remember what he said about that. Ever since he left, I’ve been on a rollercoaster of emotions. Which doesn’t make a lick of sense. He was a blip in my life, and I have bigger things to worry about. Yet I can’t stop my brain from conjuring him at the most random of times. Like when I’m awake. Or when I can’t sleep. Or when he invades my dreams.
