The Viper's Nest (Kit Davenport #4)(68)

Bile rose in my throat as I paced the small box of the elevator, waiting for it to descend and deposit me onto the ground floor. Where I was going, I had no idea. I just needed... space.

Jesus Kit, you sound like the most stupid blonde in every horror movie ever. Throwing a tantrum and leaving all safety behind...

My conscious rattled away at me, but I was turning numb. Fuck it. Who cared if this was a stupid fucking move? I was quickly becoming the most badass bitch on this planet; surely I could handle myself. I was sick to damn death of needing to be rescued by my guardians. My powers far outweighed theirs; I just needed to learn how to control them on my own. But how was I ever going to do that if they kept saving me? If I kept letting them save me?



“Where to, miss?” the taxi driver asked as I opened the door and climbed into the back seat. It hadn’t taken me long to flag him down outside the hotel, but it was more than long enough to have me anxious to be gone from there. I was still being hunted, so standing on the side of the road hailing a taxi wasn’t my smartest decision.

“I have no idea,” I admitted, meeting his weathered eyes in the mirror. “Can you take me to a bar? Any bar, I don’t care.”

The driver gave me a look like he was questioning if I was likely to stiff him. But he must have decided I was good for it, as he pulled out from the curb and into the traffic.

“You got it, miss,” he agreed, then thankfully seemed happy not to make small talk for the rest of the short ride. He pulled over in front of an unassuming-looking bar with saloon style doors, then turned in his seat to look at me sternly.

“It ain’t the fanciest club in town, but the music is good and the bartenders will keep an eye out to make sure your drink ain’t spiked. That’ll be eight dollars.” His serious expression didn’t shift as I handed over the money and thanked him.

Luckily my wallet had been in the pocket of my jacket, or I really would have been screwed. It was nice of him to bring me somewhere that I was less likely to get drugged, though.

After showing my very fake ID to the security guard at the door, I pushed through the saloon doors and into the bar. My ID was fake not for my age, as I was twenty-one now, but for my name. After all, we were on the run from fuck knew how many different organizations.

Uh, right. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.

The idea of going back to the hotel, facing Caleb and Vic and the secrets... Nope. I’d rather take my chances in the bottom of a margarita glass. Mature decision, I was aware. But sometimes I just needed to do stupid shit to let off steam.

“What’ll it be?” the enthusiastic bartender chick asked me as I approached the busy bar, and I frowned at her curiously. She could have been Lucy, at a glance, except a much darker, tanned version of Lucy with turquoise-green dreadlocks.

“Ah... I don’t know. Whatever you recommend, I guess?” I shrugged helpfully, and the girl raised her pierced eyebrows at me.

“You here alone?” She squinted at me, with a slight frown.

“Sure am,” I sighed, not even attempting a fake smile. “So something strong, if possible, please?”

The bartender looked a bit worried but nodded to me and started making me a drink. While I waited, I slumped against the bar with my elbows the only things really holding me up. It felt like I’d been put through a clothes washer, I was so strung out on emotions.

First the bonding with Caleb, then the pain, Vic showing up, the news that Caleb—my Caleb—had been meeting my mom in secret... What I wouldn’t do for a memory erase spell of this whole evening. Alcohol would need to do instead.

“Here.” The green-haired bartender dropped a tall glass down in front of me. “Long island iced tea. Guaranteed to fuck you up but not taste like shit in the process.”

This, I cracked a smile at. “Doubtful. Iced tea?” Call me crazy, but I despised iced tea.

The girl laughed. “It’s not actually tea, dummy. It’s a mix of tequila, gin, rum, vodka, and Cointreau, then lime juice, sugar, and a splash of Coke. Trust me, you’ll love it by the time you finish that one.”

“Sounds perfect,” I sighed, fishing out my wallet. “How much?”

The girl threw me a wink. “It’s on me. You look like you’re having a rough night.”

I snickered a humorless laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.” I picked up my enormous drink and gave her a nod. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it; just try and have a better night from here on out, yeah?” The girl gave me a grin, then turned away to serve another customer.

Her random act of kindness had cut through the negativity and sting of betrayal that I’d been wallowing in, and my shoulders were just a fraction less heavy as I made my way through the crowd to find a place to sit.

It was late on a Saturday night, so the bar was packed with people. But it didn’t take long for me to locate a small table available, tucked away in the back and away from both the dance floor and the mechanical bull that a drunken girl wearing no bra was thrashing around on.

As I sat, I felt my pocket vibrate. Dammit, my phone must have been in this jacket too.

Placing my drink down on the table, I fished the little device out and ignored the call. As with the next one, and the next one. Right as I was about to lose my shit and turn the damn thing off, a text message came through from River.