Page 47 of Vameer

I keep reading.

The scent of food fills the air.

“You hungry, boss?”

I lift my head and look at Jack.

He’s still seated beside me. His eyes are glassy. And the smile on his face tells me two things. First, that he’s drunk. Second, that he doesn’t understand what he just asked me.

And in this moment, I decide that we are friends.

So I fuck with him.

“Famished.” I add a hint of a hiss to my tone as I pull my lips back and lean toward him.

Jack lets out a drunken shriek and tips backward off his stool.

A boom of laughter leaves my chest even as my gravito catches him.

His eyes are comically wide as my power lifts him back onto his stool.

The other two dissolve into drunken giggles.

I grin and hold my hand up, palm out. “Joking.”

Jack’s mouth pulls into a matching grin, and he slaps his hand against mine. “Fucking nuts.” He shakes his hand out. “Shite. It’s like high-fivin’ concrete.”

“That was great.” Alex wipes at his cheeks. “But if you want an empanada or something, let us know.”

“Thank you, but I fed from a whale earlier, so I’m good.”

All three stare at me.

“Seriously?” Grace whispers.

“Sí. If you have an apple, though…?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Sorry.”

Alex holds up a hand. “No real apples, but we got apple whiskey.”

He grabs a bottle off the back wall and hands it to me.

I unscrew the top and inhale.

Whiskey overwhelms the scent, but there’s a hint of apple.

It’s not my mate. Not the juicy ripeness she leaves in the air. But it’s reminiscent.

I lift the bottle to my lips and take a swallow. Then another.

The taste is artificial. But I still like it.

“Good.” I set the bottle next to the computer and reach into my pocket.

I slap four of my coins down on the counter, then turn my attention back to the article about air travel.

Reading, I take another swallow of the apple whiskey.