good shit,” I say appreciatively. “I wish we’d had this stuff at the bar I worked at. I would’ve made amazing tips, and then that fucker, Sean the Shithole, wouldn’t have closed the place and fired my ass after calling me a bitch.”
“Who called you a bitch?”
My eyes fly up to Jerif’s angry tone, and I blink, his words filtering in like my ears and my brain are on some sort of delay. “Oh, my old boss. He was a douche.”
“He’ll be dealt with,” my lava demon says suddenly, looking perfectly serious and lethal as he leans back in his chair, the fire in his eyes matching the tones of his hair. I notice Taz out of the corner of my eye giving Jerif an approving nod and then catching himself doing it and taking a big gulp of his drink to try and cover it up.
I snicker and give Taz a knowing look when his gray eyes snap to mine. “Ooohhhh,” I announce, suddenly excited. “Can we go full Paranormal Activity on Sean the Shithole’s ass?” I ask Jerif. I can’t stop staring at his eyes and hair, like some drunk staring at the campfire as if it has the meaning of life in its flames. Or maybe the meaning of life is just hidden in his pants.
With that thought, I drop my gaze and stare drunkenly at his crotch. “Oh man, I’m drunk!” I slur, my tone both perky and shocked, and for some reason, that makes me laugh. Damn, I’m adorable.
“What does Paranormal Activity have to do with your former boss’s ass?” Jerif asks, not joining the others in their chuckles at my drunk revelation.
“Ewww, don’t say it like that. I don’t want to touch his ass, I want to make him think that his house—no wait— his life is haunted. Like we steal his sheets, and fuck with shit around his house and bar, and make him think scary things live in his attic...or basement. He seems like the kind of creep who’d have a basement,” I mumble, suddenly really interested in the way my hand moves in front of me.
Damn, that’s trippy.
“You know,” I announce, fixing Jerif with my best sinister look. But it gets interrupted when I sneeze. Shit, being evil makes my nose feel funny. “You know…” I begin again with a sniff. “We’ll launch a campaign of terror on his ass so badly, he’ll rue the day he ever fucked with me!” I yell, like I’m a coach on game day giving the pep talk of my career.
When did I stand up?
Taz shoots out of his seat too and raises his glass. “Here, here!” he agrees.
I try to high five him, but he’s too far away, so I just high five myself, which for some reason, makes Crux crack the fuck up. All that reminds me of is what we were laughing about before Peegate, and I throw my head back and yell, “Maaaa, you gotta knock!” and then join Crux in laughing my ass off at Jerif’s expense.
Trust fall!
I suddenly drop back like I’m about to make the sweetest snow angel on the carpet, but warm arms catch me instead, fucking with my carpet angel plans.
“Spin me!” I demand of whoever is holding me.
“Being that you almost hurled your guts up just from flying around, I’m going to go with no to the spinning,” Jerif grumps as he holds me, and I just laugh.
“Jerif, why don’t you take Delta upstairs to lie down? She should burn the booze off soon, and we’ll show Tazreel around the property and Gate, give him a peek at what we do here,” Iceman directs.
Jerif doesn’t say a word, but I can tell he complies, as I’m whisked out of the room. I’ve never been whisked before, and I’m debating how I feel about it, when Jerif adjusts his hold on me and his arms rub against my disgusting, but oddly sensitive, wings.
“Ooohhhhh, do that again,” I command.
“No.”
“Ughhhh, why are you a thief of joy?” I demand. “You know you want to touch me.”
“If by touch, you mean tuck your drunk, hot ass mess into bed, then yes, I do want to touch you.”
“Knew it,” I declare smugly.
Jerif knees a massive door open, and I suddenly find myself in a very cozy, modern looking room. The walls are black and as smooth looking as Jerif’s skin. Above the huge platform bed with all black bedding, there’s a massive canvas that looks like a big fluffy ash