Page 80 of A Drop of Anguish
The blond grunts and then stands. “This is boring.” She saunters off, back into the main room of the party. The wolf shifter follows her in.
“We’re going in to get refills as well,” Lucille says, holding up an empty glass. “Do you two want anything?”
My eyebrows rise. I’m impressed with the offer and decide, finally, to like her. She’s kind and talented and beautiful, and I shouldn’t let my own stupid—admittedly, irrational—jealousy get the best of me. “No. I—sorry, I’d rather drink something I pour myself.”
“Smart girl,” Manuela says. “Not that either of us would even consider messing with your drink. It’s just a good rule to keep.”
“We could go get drinks too if you want?” Thompson offers, nudging me with his elbow.
I twist my lips, looking through the large glass pane at the party within. Jarron is still in the same position, with casual ease, like he couldn’t care less what was going on around him.
A girl in a red dress leans against the armrest and whispers something to him. Jarron flicks a hand, and the girl jerks away. Jarron doesn’t so much as blink.
“Something about that posture is sexy, isn’t it?”
My eyebrows pull down, and I look at Manuela. I was under the impression she had no interest in men, but maybe I was wrong. But then, I see her expression. She’s examining me like a mad scientist watching an experiment. She’s measuring every reaction.
I do my best to give her none.
“I know, right? I just want to sit on him.”
The breath rushes from my lungs, and I don’t breathe for several seconds. The girl who spoke is a short brunette with all the right curves.
“Shut up, Samantha,” Manuela says, though her gaze is still pinned on me.
The girl giggles and then winks.
“Go give it a shot. See what happens,” Thompson says smoothly. “We’ll rate your attempt.”
Samantha curls a lip in annoyance but then sashays into the room. She pauses in front of Jarron… and then continues walking past.
Thompson laughs. “Coward.”
“Or wise, depending on your perspective,” Lucille says.
“If she were wise, she’d have kept her mouth shut to start with,” I say.
Manuela rolls her eyes. “All right, we going in for drinks or what?”
I nod, and we all four head into the dark room that vibrates with lazy pulsing tones. The lyrics of the song are about choking and other not-safe-for-work activities. I zone it out. I really don’t need more sexual suggestion. My body is already tense, my mind barely controlled from thinking about things I very much shouldn’t be.
As much as I wanted to rip the girl’s head off for saying that about Jarron, she did kinda have a point.
Nope, not thinking about that. Or him. Definitely not thinking about him.
“You okay?” Thompson side-eyes me as he pours a glass of red liquid and hands it to me.
I take the mollifying potion, wondering if I should just grab two while I’m at it. I’m not much of a drinker—potions or alcohol—but tonight could be an exception.
Unwise? Maybe. Needed? Remains to be seen.
This potion is common at parties because it has much the same reaction as alcohol—decreases inhibitions and relaxes you—but without the negative side effects. There are also blue and green potions, which I know have a bit of a more intense effect. I wouldn’t touch those with a ten-foot pole. And then, there’s laced blood and a tar-like substance I’ve never had the courage to inquire about.
I gulp down the mollifying potion, finishing the whole thing in a few seconds.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he says then pours another.
“I’m fine,” I say and turn to find Lola, Janet, and Stassi chatting in the corner near the bed. “Kinda.”
