One of my beautiful helpers appeared wheeling a silver cart toward us.
The Claws parted for it. Conversations dipped. Eyes lifted.
“Alright. We have two more signature drinks before the dinner party begins.” I left Kenji and headed over to Daisuke. “Are you all ready?”
Daisuke stepped forward. “I am because I know this one has to be mine.”
One twin frowned. “Or it could be ours.”
“Yeah.” The other nodded.
“No.” Daisuke waved them away. “You two will have two drinks most likely because you’re twins.”
The twins blinked in unison and then wide smiles spread across their faces.
“Let’s just focus, everyone.” I stopped in front of the silver cart. Several small glasses were placed on top along with pitchers of alcohol and other ingredients. “I’ll be making this one in front of you.”
Daisuke looked back at the others. “Because I’m the most special.”
Kaede snorted.
From the little I’d known about Daisuke, he was the one Claw who relished in disappearing within the shadows and never being seen too much.
I’d learned his backstory from Ali’s research, understood him even more, and shed some tears.
Now it made sense how Daisuke liked to blend in and hold himself just outside of reach due to a violent father that terrorized his house and killed his baby sister.
That kind of horror didn’t only break a child. It rewired him.
I bet that he’d learned to vanish back then just to not get hit. Folding his little body into corners and shadows.
But tonight, Daisuke could not be ignored with that candy apple red hair layered to his head in waves and his long black silk dress with ostrich feathers.
That ensemble alone told me that he felt safe with the other Claws, Kenji, and even me.
My heart warmed.
“Let’s begin because yes. . .this is Daisuke’s drink.” I poured the first liquid and then the next. “Mezcal for the danger you carry. Bourbon for the hidden edge."
The pour was slow and golden, appearing like two rivers braiding into one.
Toma whispered, “So cool.”
The Claws got closer, while Reo and Kenji remained in the back.
I gestured for my second helper to come over. We’d practiced this drink before the party.
She appeared with a small brass dipper of honey-ginger and ribboned it through the amber in a single unbroken pour. The honey hung in the liquor like silk in water.
I pointed. “Honey-ginger because you are still sweet under all the danger you exude.”
“Aww.” Toma batted his lashes. “Daisuke is a lovable psycho.”
The twins chuckled.
The violin’s tune drifted higher, teasing our ears.
Then she tipped activated charcoal into the glass.
