Tempest leads me towards adjacent barstools, and a handsome lupion takes our order, clearly excited for Tempest to be back.
I try not to stare, but there are a million things happening all at once. In my peripheral, I see two wolves dancing, their bodies grinding against one another. Next to us, a half-demon snorts some magical, powdered substance. The air around us is thick and foggy, with sweat and fur and the crisp scent of magic permeating through it.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask. “We infiltrate selected groups and manipulate them into taking interest in The Sinner’s Circus?”
Tempest looks at me as if I have flesh-eating bacteria consuming my brain.
“What?” I say, lifting my hands up in confusion.
“We’re notinfiltrating and manipulating.We’re just going to talk to people and invite them to the show,” she says, her white brows furrowed.
“Is it that simple?” I ask in earnest.
She nods. “Yes. Beautiful nuisance, have you never been to a party before?”
That fucking nickname again. It makes me feel warm and fluttery inside, like caterpillars have built their cocoons in my stomach, sprouting their wings and taking flight.
“I have been to parties, but they’re not the same. Mostly political shindigs where I was working.”
“Felion don’t throw parties?”
I shrug. “I guess when this turf war is over, you guys will have to show us how it’s done.”
The bartender hands us our drinks. Mine comes in a bottle, much like some of the beers, though it derives from apples, not barley. Tempest’s drink is a bright yellow-orange, topped with an orange peel and a little umbrella, and I giggle.
I take my first small swig. It’s the perfect balance between fruity and bitter. Tempest takes a sip of her drink, and I fight back another giggle. “That looks like it tastes sweet.”
“Not as sweet as you.”
I nearly spit out my drink.
“Tempest,” a voice says from behind us.
“Zuri!” Tempest says, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
I turn to see a lupion with deep brown skin. Her yellow dress clings to her lean body, reminding me of sunshine.
Another lupion stands beside her, with pale, pinkish skin and midnight-blue hair that’s cut straight at her jawline. She’s curvy, with black slacks and a sexy, leather harness atop a form-fitting t-shirt. They’re both incredibly attractive, and I amnotcomplaining.
“Meet Zuri and Clio. They’re members of Pack Escalus,” Tempest says as the two lupion sit beside us.
Maybe I have a thing for the women of Pack Escalus.
Looking closely, I realize Clio’s eyes are two different colors. One is a peridot green, much like Zuri’s, and the others a bright white-blue, similar to Tempest. The three wolves are utterly beautiful, yet so different from one another.
“This is my fiancé, Yasmeena,” Tempest says, and the two lupion smile broadly.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” Zuri’s essence is warm and vibrant, everything about her putting me at ease.
“I have too, thoughnotfrom Tempest,” Clio says, her tone playful.
Tempest’s hands raise in defensiveness. “They’ve been keeping me on a tight leash until the marriage is official. There’s a lot of politicians and leaders banking on our love.”
“So when is the wedding?” Zuri asks, her face perched on her hands, her elbows leaning against the bar.
“We’re not sure yet,” I say with a smile.
“But we have a performance tomorrow,” Tempest says, and pulls out one of the flyers from her back pocket, casually unfolding it.
