Page 108 of Dual
"Moira," I wheeze out, relief flooding through me when she finally releases me with a dramatic flourish.
"Look at you! Out and about in the daylight. I'm gonna start calling you Daywalker," she says with that typical Moira exuberance.
I snort at the vampire reference, then glance over my shoulder, scanning the bar carefully. Old habits. I'm looking for Pavel's men. I know they're watching me, tracking my every move. The bar is dim, the kind of place where the wood is dark and sticky, the air smells like stale beer, and the neon lights buzz just a little too loudly. Perfect for what I need to do---get Moira to break up with this Bane guy without drawing attention.
Moira narrows her eyes at me. "You got a stalker?"
"What?" I force out a laugh that sounds false even to my own ears. Deflect, deflect. "What do you wanna drink?" I head for the bar, then glance sideways at her, trying to slip into our normal banter. "Wait. Are you even old enough to drink yet?"
She rolls her eyes dramatically. "Ha ha. We're practically the same age."
I roll mine back harder. "Cute. I'm a hundred and seventeen years your senior in trauma years."
She winces, and I feel a flicker of guilt. It's an unfair advantage, bringing up my past. But I need her cooperative, and if making her uncomfortable helps, so be it. My mind stays laser-focused on my goal: get her to break up with Bane, keep Domhnall safe, keep us all alive.
"I'll take a beer," she tells the bartender, who's eyeing us both like we're the most interesting thing to walk in all day.
"You sure? Not more shots?" he asks, his gaze lingering on my cleavage longer than necessary.
Before I can tell him exactly what I think of that look, Moira shoves me aside. "Two beers," she says flatly.
He huffs but turns to grab them.
"You can close out her tab, too," I add, nodding toward Moira's earlier drinks. He brings the receipt for her to sign.
She grabs both beers and heads for a table. I follow, watching her movements, trying to gauge her mood. This would be so much easier if Moira wasn't so damn unpredictable. If she were just a normal person with normal reactions, I could manipulate her easily. But Moira's chaos makes her hard to control.
"Look at baby bear all grown up," I coo, ruffling her hair like she's a child. It's a calculated move to establish dominance and remind her of our age difference, even if it's minimal.
She bats my hand away and takes a long pull from her beer, meeting my gaze over the rim. "So, you just wanna hang, or are we actually gonna talk about the fact that you snuck back into your own damn house like a teenager past curfew?"
I wave a dismissive hand, my heart clenching at the mention of the night she caught me crawling in a window after sneaking out to go check my servers. Domhn's got a security system on the house that's intense, and the workaround on the windows was easier than the doors. "Oh, that was nothing."
Then I tip my head back and chug my beer. I need liquid courage for what comes next. Not a sip. Not a gulp. Just a long, steady pour down my throat until the bottle is almost empty. The cold helps numb the ache that's been constant since I walked away from Domhn. I slam the bottle back on the table with a sigh, elbows propped up, blinking against the slight burn in my eyes.
She just stares. "Right. Totally normal behavior."
I lick a drop of beer from my lip and lean in, deciding to go straight for the target. "It's you I wanna hear about. You still got something going on with that priest I met a while back?"
She freezes mid-sip. Good. I've caught her off guard. This is what I need---to unbalance her, find her weak spot, and press on it until she gives me what I want.
She sets her beer down, clearing her throat. "Yeah. We've got a little something going on."
I nod, feigning casualness. "Sure. Sure. But it's not serious, right? Isn't that, like, your whole thing? Not being serious?"
She takes another swig, avoiding my eyes. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
"Uh. It's... pretty serious," she finally admits.
I frown, a genuine reaction. This complicates things. I was expecting a casual fling I could easily persuade her to end. "But you don't do serious."
She tilts her head at me. "What the fuck, Mads? Why do you care?"
I exhale hard and glance toward the door, debating howto play this. The truth? A partial truth? A complete lie? I decide on something close to the truth---she'll sense if I'm completely bullshitting her, and I need her to believe me.
I lean in close, dropping my voice low, making each word sharp and precise.
"Look, I'm sorry, baby girl, but I need you to break it off with the priest. For your brother's sake."
