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“I want you to trust me,”he sends.
“Then give me space.”
“Right,” Cait’s voice rings clear in the night. “Willow, Alfie, let me buy you both a round of drinks.”
“Let’s go,” Alfie whispers harshly behind me. “The bar is this way.”
Chapter
Thirty-Two
WILLOW
I’m still frowning when Alfie guides me through the crowd, making a beeline for Cait’s auburn hair ahead. Everyone has returned to whatever hedonistic entertainment occupied them before, but I can’t forget the image of Fox standing there, forlorn, as I turned away.
A tornado lives inside my mind. Everything whirls and churns. Everything from my feelings, my arousal, jealousy, anger, then... was it relief when he explained he was only feeding from Irisa? Didsheknow that?
Logically, my eyes told a different story. She had averygood time on his lap. But his trousers were buttoned. When she climaxed, his head was back, staring at the sky, both his arms wide and resting on the sofa’s backrest. He wasn’t touching her.
Maybe that’s how the Sluagh feed. Maybe supping on souls creates some kind of erotic reaction in their prey. In Elphyne, there were wild tales about willingly walking to your death in the arms of a Sluagh, smiling the whole way.
All I know is that I still have no answers. I’m still cursed—still a confused mess.
We follow Cait to the teal-thatched building. The atmosphere is tamer inside, and I suspect it’s because this is the boss’sdomain. A long wooden bar lines the back wall. Bottles upon liquor bottles, elixirs, and tonics are displayed on shelves. That burning flower emits a heady scent here, too.
Bamboo-constructed booths with leather seats circle the outer walls. Open windows overlook cliffs and the ocean, all shadowy in the night. The music here is soft and melodic but easygoing. It suits the balmy air. Already, I feel calmer.
A stunning pale redhead in a tight green dress tends the bar. She doesn’t notice us walk up. She’s too busy leaning on the counter, flashing her ample bosom, and flirting with two males who lap up her attention like a dessert. With her chin in her hand, she flicks open the man’s collar. He’s too enchanted to care.
“Sorcha,” Cait snaps, lifting the bar’s hatch to enter. “What are you doing this side of the bar?”
She faces Cait with red, flashing eyes. “You’re ruining my fun, kitty cat.”
“Fun, or your next meal?” Cait continues along the bar to where we wait.
“Wh-what?” splutters one of the men. “Meal?”
Sorcha bares dainty vampiric fangs and then hisses. The males flee so fast that they leave their drinks. She turns to Cait, cocks her hip, and scowls. Her pose splits her dress, revealing a seductive thigh morphing into a furry deer’s leg.
“You ruined my flow,” Sorcha grumbles.
“Go and flow somewhere I can’t see you.” Cait rolls her eyes.
Alfie shoots me a wide-eyed stare, gives a shaky laugh, and rakes his hand through his hair. “Told you things would get wild.”
I force a smile despite not feeling it. “You can say that again.”
Sorcha walks away, all curves and seduction. With those legs and Cait’s feline traits, I don’t think they’re Avorlornian natives. When I turn back to Cait, she watches me with emerald eyes.
Someone shouts Alfie’s name from a booth. He glances over and grins. Patting me on the back, he says, “Get me whatever you’re having, and then come and meet the crew.”
“Sure.”
He bounds to the booth, shakes a few hands, and slides into a seat. Along with two Chasers, two Shadows are there, including Dahlia. They all give a good-natured laugh. Dahlia looks at me, smiles genuinely, and waves before returning to the conversation.
What, so we’re friends here?
Perplexed, I turn back to the bar and mumble, “He got over it fast.”
