‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Oh no, what else is new?You still like tequila?’
Kade wants to saynojust to spite him but then realises he doesn’t… know.Does he?He’s never been to a bar, a club.He’d only drunk alcohol once before, and that was a bottle of whiskey he found in Riley’s room one night well over five years ago.He’d barely taken a mouthful before he wanted to hurl.
‘Whatever,’ he goes with, a little self-conscious.
There’s so many people around him and this bar has a smalldancefloor.Modern and dark, pulsing neon and thudding bass.Lachlan orders two club sodas with lime, plus a shot of tequila.
‘Just one?’
‘I don’t drink.’
‘I meant for me.’
Lachlan smiles and shakes his head.‘Brat.’
The word makes a spiral of tight warmth in Kade’s otherwise cold interior.
Kade decides to push.‘Come on, if you’re gonna spend hours trying to convince me I’m a fuckingParanaturalor whatever, you might as well—’
‘I’m not trying to convince you of anything,’ Lachlan cuts over, still looking around.‘You asked me to get you out of the Tower and I did, you can leave.You’re not trapped.You don’t need to bargain with me.’
Somehow that irritates Kade even more.He downs the shot, barely stops himself from gagging because holy shit that is revolting, and then drains half his club soda in one.
‘Fuck you, Bodyguard.My world’s imploding here.’
‘I know.’
‘I need to know things, I want to knoweverythingbut it’s like I don’t know where to start and whenever I ask, the shit you tell me just fucks with my head.’He frowns to himself, gripping the glass.‘I’m not a Paranatural, though.’
‘Brightling.’
‘You sound just like him.’
‘And you sound like your father’s friends.’
‘What’sthatsupposed to mean?’
‘Paranatural is a loaded term.It costs you fuck all to say Brightling.’
Kade briefly sulks but then relents.‘Fine.‘I’m not aBrightling.’
‘Believe me or don’t.It’s your life, kid.’
‘Fucking call mekidagain, I swear to God.’Lachlan doesn’t react.Kade downs the second shot when it arrives, finds it more tolerable that time though he still has to chase it with his club soda.‘Not like I don’t know why you’re doing it anyway.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Calling me these things because you’re trying to jog my memory.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Just stop it, OK?’
‘Heard.’
‘So, tell me about you and me.’
