Page 45 of Somnium

But instead, she rolled her shoulders and stepped into the kitchen.

Not a single person questioned her.

A line cook looked up as she crossed in front of his station, but he only gave her a quick smile before returning to his work.

Stepping back out into the main bar, Cadi let out a breath as her shoulders slouched forward. It was such a small thing, the entire trek had taken her less than a minute, but every inch of her felt strangely energized.

The clanking of glass drew her attention to where Elias was standing at the bar measuring out different types of liquor before pouring them into a pint glass. Her eyes tracked the meticulous way he practiced his craft, then drifted to the muscles in his forearms as he gripped the bottle.

Squeezing her eyelids shut, she gave her head a quick shake. She really needed to stop doing that.

“Hey,” Elias said when he looked up from the collection of glassware in front of him. “Where’s Sera?”

Cadi shrugged. “She said something about having already tried your experiments, then drove off.”

Elias sighed, tipping his head back. “They aren’t that bad. I do have a bartending license; I know what I’m doing. Mostly.”

Cadi laughed and slipped onto one of the stools in front of him. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

He smirked, his eyes flicking up to hers just long enough to make her pulse jump before he lowered his gaze back to the row of small glasses, selected one from the middle, and slid it toward her.

“You don’t have any food allergies, do you?” he asked.

Cadi shook her head. “Just grass, so as long as you didn’t put any of that in here we should be good.”

Elias laughed, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “I’m thinking of calling this one The Salty Siren. It has gin and … well, just try it.”

Cadi lifted the glass to her nose and sniffed it cautiously before taking a small sip.

She nearly choked.

Her tongue was assaulted with so much salt there was no way it didn’t impact her blood pressure. She pulled her lips between her teeth, fighting the natural reflex to pull a face at the unpleasant flavor still taking up residence in her mouth, then looked up to find Elias watching her expectantly from across the bar.

Without saying a word, Cadi slowly pushed the glass back toward him, and shook her head.

Elias’s shoulders sagged, and something clenched behind her ribs at the look of disappointment on his face.

“Sorry,” she said, “I’m not much of a salty drink person.”

He waved her off, pushing a different glass forward. “Don’t worry about it. Hopefully this one will be better.”

She crooked an eyebrow. “Hopefully? Have you not tried any of these yourself?”

Elias shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “I don’t drink.”

A surprised laugh slipped past her lips, and she gestured to the empty room. “You own a bar …”

He chuckled as he leaned forward onto his hands, a move that Cadi had to work very hard to ignore. “I promise the irony is not lost on me. Alcohol was just never something that appealed to me, but I love the craft of creating the drinks. It’s like its own fusion of art and science. Though it does mean I have to recruit unwitting subjects to test out my creations.”

A slow smile crept over Cadi’s face at the passion she heard in his voice when he spoke about his work. There was something oddly beautiful about the way he still loved the act of creation, even if he himself wasn’t enjoying the finished product. She eyed the next glass, not sure if she wanted to keep playing guinea pig, but unable to walk away from the hopeful look in his eyes.

Luckily, the next drink he had her try was not nearly as bad, and she was able to make her way through the rest of the tasting session relatively unscathed.

“Okay, so that’s a yes for the Portside Pomegranate, the Wake Breaker, and the Gin Jibe, and a no to … everything else.” Cadi watched Elias scribble notes onto a small pad before lifting his head to examine the cluster of discarded drink choices in front of him.

“How long have you owned The Crow?” she asked, unable to quell the curiosity building in her mind. She knew so little about him, other than the fact that he was a bartender who didn’t like alcohol, and if they were going to be friends, it made sense that she should know more details about his life. Right?

He tossed the pad and pen to the side, then leaned forward to rest his forearms against the bar. “Going on ten years. Why? Were the drinks that bad?”