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I rush after Liberty, keeping close, noting the few curious glances being thrown in my direction. “But I thought Jules said no going to bars.”
“Don’t worry; this is a special kind of bar where only friends and family of Jules and mine are allowed to hang out.” She stops in front of the bar and heaves a sigh when she notes my reluctant expression. “Lake, please don’t tell me you’ve turned into one of those female wolves who does everything their wolf lover tells them.”
“Jules isn’t my wolf lover.” When my cheeks flame, she laughs. “I just get nervous being around a lot of werewolves.”
She drums her fingers on top of the counter. “Why? You used to love being the center of attention. Well, when you were fighting, anyway. I guess not so much when the five of us were just hanging out.”
“The five of us …? You mean, Jules, Shade, Rune, you, and me?” I catch the strangest whiff of a familiar scent, but I can’t place from where. And when I breathe in deeply to try to smell it again, my nostrils are assaulted with an overwhelming combination of different werewolves’ scents.
I peer around the bar.There’s so many of them here.
“Yep,” Liberty says. “We called ourselves the badass wolves pack. We were pretty lame.”
“It doesn’t sound that bad.”
“Nah, it wasn’t. We had a lot of fun.” Peering from left to right, she pushes up onto her toes, leans over the counter, and steals a bottle of silver glittered liquid. Wrapping her fingers around the bottle, she nods her head then casually walks over to a vacant corner booth.
“Did you just jack that?” I whisper as I slide into the booth across from her.
She shrugs, twisting off the cap. “I know the bartender. He’s kind of a prick.”
“But he doesn’t own the bar. Stealing effects the owner.”
“His father is a prick, too.”
“I thought you said only family and friends of yours and Jules’ come to this bar.”
“I did.” She drops the lid onto the table and takes a swig of the drink. “The owner is my uncle, and my cousin is the bartender. They’re both straight-up pricks, just like my father.”
“So, you don’t like your father, either?” I ask, taking the bottle when she offers it to me.
She reaches for the centerpiece candle on the table. “No. Most werewolves don’t. You shouldn’t, either.”
“I don’t. … Jules told me a little bit about him.”
“He did?” She gapes at me. “He rarely talks to anyone about him.”
“I asked him about the rings,” I explain. “Which led to a story about your father.”
“Oh.” She rotates the candle between her hands. “That’s good—that he talked to you about that. He’s needed to talk to someone for a long time, but my brother’s extremely closed off.” She flops back in the seat. “Except for with you when we were little. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.”
“He hasn’t told me everything, like what this alterum dimidium animae thing is.” I give her an opening to explain.
She reaches over and taps the bottle in my hand. “Drink first, then we’ll talk. It’s the only way you’re going to be able to handle this without freaking the crazy wolves out.”
“Maybe I’m better at handling scary stuff than I used to be.”
“Maybe, but you’re still going to freak out about this.”
“How do you know that for sure?”
“Because, when we were younger, we used to talk about what would happen if either of us got a alterum dimidium animae. I said I’d beat the crap out of them, while you insisted running away and never looking back.”
“Oh.” Now she has me really worried.
I warily sniff the bottle and feel warm flutters in my chest. “What is this stuff, anyway? Because, the last drink I had from this realm was laced with silver and burned like a mother-effer. Thankfully, I’m a princess, or else I would’ve probably died.” I take another whiff of the drink, which makes my stomach somersault. “Are you a princess?”
She flips her hair off her shoulder. “Nope, I’m a straight-up badass warrior, which completely contradicts me having a guard.”
