Dark Desires After Dusk (Immortals After Dark #6)(43)

“Aye, Deshazior,” another interjected, “that’s the way of the Valkyrie. Creep in when you don’t expect it, then, bam”—he slammed the bottom of his fist on the bar—“you’re headless.”

Be calm. Slow the heart. “While that might be the case, gentlemen, I was actually thinking that flood insurance must be a nightmare for you guys.”

“She talks like a human,” this Deshazior said. The demon, who himself talked like a Central Casting pirate, motioned to the bartender, and a shot glass appeared in front of her. “Drink, Valkyrie.”

“I don’t imbibe.”

“It’s rude to be turnin’ away demon brew when it’s offered to ye.”

“Nonetheless, I never drink—”

“And bad luck to boot.”

“Bad luck?” Her hand swooped up the shot glass. A random occurrence that doesn’t go your way. “What can one drink hurt, yeah?” Great, now she was even talking like the oaf.

With her free hand, she collected a napkin, giving them a pained smile as she polished an area on the rim of the glass. To the accompaniment of Jimmy Buffet crooning, “They say you are a snuff queen, honey, I don’t think that’s true . . . .” she placed the drink to her lips, then turned it up.

The liquid burned like nothing she’d ever ingested, and she coughed, eyes watering. She placed the glass on the bar with its opening down, so they didn’t try to refill it.

“How’d that treat ye?” Deshazior asked.

She couldn’t yet speak, so she gave the only polite gesture that was applicable: a thumbs-up sign.

Everyone cheered, while someone slapped her on the back, much too hard.

“She’ll have another!”

They lined up a second glass.

Oh, no. One down, one up. She would have to drink this and then one more to get to three . . . .

At number six, she felt surprisingly sober and wasn’t as miserable as she’d thought she’d be, taking turns doing shots with demons in a sandbar bar. Indeed, she was quite relaxed.

And Deshazior was turning out to be a hoot. The storm demon had been a bona fide pirate, yet he text-messaged on his Sidekick faster than even she could. He was handsome in a grizzled way, and he also had an interest in mathematics since he’d been a navigator.

He’d told her the shots would hit her harder with each hour of the night. Holly was strangely looking forward to it.

She squinted at the Budweiser wall clock. Forty minutes had passed. Get in and get out, Cade had said.

“What is taking him so long?” she absently murmured.

A few demons smirked, and one said, “Imatra’s a demanding one.”

Demanding? We’re here for directions. What did being demanding have to do with how long Cade was taking with the gorgeous demoness?

She scratched her head, got aggravated with her falling bun, yanked it down.

Her eyes widened. Holly, you’re an idiot. Two demons in a back room, with their three-times-a-day needs . . .

“And it ain’t like Cadeon the Kingmaker’s not up for the challenge,” another said.

Cadeon was back there having sex with Imatra.

All of the sudden, Holly understood why people cursed. Sometimes the emotion inside couldn’t be vented with any known combination of tame words.

At least he was right about one thing. She was a preachy tight-ass and a hypocrite—because as she sat here getting increasingly drunk, all she wanted to do was utter the vilest oaths she could come up with.

He was an untrustworthy demon. She knew that. What had she been thinking even to imagine more with him?

Earlier, just before Imatra and Cadeon had gone back to her room, Imatra had flashed Holly that superior look, as if she’d taken something from her. In fact, Imatra had given her something.

Perspective where Cadeon was concerned.

Holly liked things ordered. Cadeon’s bedding a sexy demoness the same night he’d made a play for Holly forever removed him from her consideration. By this act, he’d been nullified.

Yes. She’d wanted not to be tempted. To be unafraid that she might forsake her old life.

No demon, no temptation, no dark side.

Pasting a smile on her face, she asked the group, “Whose turn is it?”





19





I’m only here for business, dove,” Cade said when Imatra poured drinks for them.

“You know it’s bad luck to turn down demon brew. And it’s rude to keep your sword on, like we’re enemies.”

He took the glass, none too subtly glancing at his watch. Ten minutes had already dragged past as she’d asked questions about the other factions out for Holly.

“Just need my directions, and I’ll be off.”

Cade couldn’t imagine how Holly was faring out there. But he also had confidence in her, assured that she’d use that head of hers to stay out of trouble. He’d been impressed at the good job she’d done masking her amazement in the face of so many new Lorekind.

There’d been fey, demons, and Lykae, but fortunately, there were no Valkyrie. He knew all his plans could come tumbling down the minute she found out there was no turning back to human.

“Why the rush, Cade? Would it be so terrible to have a drink or two with me?” Imatra let her robe slink down her shoulder.