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God, she was far too susceptible to him and that liquid-sex voice. “Could you try to not think of sex for just a little while?”
“You can’t wear Fuck-Me heels and think I won’t spend the night imagining how hot you’ll look when I take you while you’re wearing them and nothing else.” His dark eyes glittered with need. “After I’ve finished with you, you’ll barely be able to move.”
Her body lit right up. “Just give it another few hours and then we’ll leave.”
“Two hours.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Two.”
She’d figured her antisocial mate wouldn’t last long. The place was packed with people—some were ruling the dance floor while others either claimed tables, gathered at the bar, or amused themselves in the arcade area. A few had passed out, drunk off their asses.
Kids were running around, mostly causing shit and stealing unattended drinks—something they’d been berated for several times already. That didn’t stop them, though.
It was loud as hell. The DJ alternated between playing music and inviting guests to use the karaoke—the songs fairly blasted out of the speakers. Bottles thumped on tables. Chair legs scraped the floor. People laughed and sang and whooped.
Bottles, glasses, and paper plates seemed to be perched on every available surface. There was a buffet table a few feet away, which the wolverines had all but descended on. She was surprised there was any food left.
It was a kind of chaos, though. In her opinion, anyway. In Alex’s? Not so much. He couldn’t handle this kind of scene for long without wanting to snap someone’s neck.
Really, her cat was getting a little annoyed by the multitude of scents—beer, hard liquor, hair products, grilled meat, salted foods. The list went on and on. But the feline was otherwise enjoying herself.
Hearing an ear-splitting mix of hissing and growling, Bree looked to see Emilia and Dillon brawling on the dance floor. Worse, a bunch of kids circled them, chanting, “Fight!”
Dominic walked over, separated the twins, and ordered all the children to “go have fun.” They all just stared at him with expressions that said, “we were, and you ruined it.”
Bree snorted. She was about to tell Alex about the little spectacle when she noticed Elle approaching.
“Hey, guys,” the redhead greeted. “You planning to release Bree at any point, Alex?”
“No,” he said.
“You both need to work the room and say thanks to everyone for coming,” Elle reminded him.
“But I’m not thankful—I didn’t want a party.”
Bree threw him a frown over her shoulder. “Dude, that’s just mean and ungrateful.”
“I don’t care.”
“Then how about you stay here; I’ll go work the room with Bree,” Elle proposed.
“How about ‘no?’”
The redhead perched her hands on her hips. “Don’t be awkward, Alex.”
“Go irritate someone else, Elle.”
As the two cousins fell into an argument, Bree exchanged an eye-roll with Greg. He hadn’t been his usual self around them since the whole hyena-kidnapping incident, blaming himself for the fact that she’d been taken. No matter how much Bree told him he wasn’t to blame, the male couldn’t seem to shake off the guilt.
Elle let out an exasperated sound. “Come on, Alex. Don’t be a brat.”
At that moment, Damian sidled over, frowning at his sister. “Everything okay here?” he asked her. “Because you have that look on your face you usually get just before you do something that could land you in jail.”
Elle sneered at him. “Listen, oh child of Satan, I don’t need your negativity right now. Take your dark power and evil spells elsewhere.”
Damian’s lips flattened. “You need to get a handle on your neurosis, Elle.”
She lifted her chin. “Deny your true origins if you must, but we both know you’re here to bring the end of days, and I’m not gonna pretend differently.”
“Oh my God, pull your crazy head out of your fat ass.”
She jerked back, gaping. “My ass is not fat.”
“That must be why it shakes like jelly every time you move. And you know that? You’re getting jowls, too.”
“Well there’s something prematurely aging about living with the Antichrist.”
He threw up his arms. “You’re beyond help. You are. Bree, break free from the insane bitch while you can.”
Elle narrowed her eyes. “Now you’re just trying to isolate me so no one will miss me after you’ve sacrificed me on the Altar of Beelzebub.”
Damian stared her, at a loss. Then he shook his head. “And I’m done. Just. Done.” With that, he walked off.
Huffing, Elle turned back to Bree. “So, we gonna go work the room or what?”
Tempted to throttle his cousin, Alex exhaled a long, suffering sigh. “I’ll go with Bree.” Because the only thing getting him through this thing was having his mate close by—he wasn’t about to part from her.
And so he and Bree circled the Tavern, talking with different groups of people. He always walked in front of her, stopping her from being jostled and saving her feet from being stomped on. There were a lot of high-heeled shoes in the place.
