“Cheers.” The ghoul held up his fruity concoction.
I eyed the glass. I wasn’t in the mood to work the crowd. Tipping my own drink back, I took a healthy swallow, saluted him, and turned to people-watch.
“Not much of a talker, are you?” The ghoul laughed.
“And you can’t take a hint,” I shot back.
He reached out and ran a finger over my bare shoulder. Prickles, and not the good kind, sizzled over my skin. I jerked away.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
I shot him a dark look. “Seriously?”
He held up both hands—both empty hands. “What? It’s just a question. Common decency.”
I was being unreasonable. The last thing I needed was to be thrown out for causing a scene. But if I didn’t lose this guy, it would put my spying at risk.
“Maggie,” I ground out.
“Maggie.” He tasted the word. “Nah, that’s too cute. How about I call you Electra? You look like you could be the goddess of the storms and seas.”
This guy might be better educated, but he was the exact same as the losers I made regret ruining my nights at the bars back home.
I brought my whiskey to my lips, but the bartender tapped my shoulder.
“Sorry, ma’am, that wasn’t from Kentucky.” He plucked it from my fingers.
“What the—”
The bartender flashed his eyes wide. Just once.
I swallowed my outburst, suddenly feeling wretched. “Thanks. I’ll take a bottled water.”
He nodded, and I turned back to the ghoul. “Get. Lost.”
The playful energy was gone. The man’s lip rose in an ugly snarl. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”
I stepped into him, glaring in his face. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
His hands shot out. I moved mine faster, blocking as he tried to grab my wrist.
This wasn’t the ideal outfit, but if I had to fight him, I would.
Long fingers dug into my arms. I brought my left leg up and kneed his thigh. He twisted me. The bar top slammed into my spine.
Midnight shadows swept past me, and suddenly I was free. With a sickening crash, the ghoul’s face slammed against the marble counter.
The devil was here.
I stepped to the side, rubbing my arms. There would be bruises.
“She’s off limits,” Nico snarled, shoving the ghoul hard against the stone. “Got it?”
“Sir, he spiked her drink.” The bartender handed me an unopened bottle of water.
The half mask didn’t conceal Nico’s face as it contorted with rage. “How fucking dare you, Elliot.”
The ghoul whimpered.
