Imprisoned Gods - G. Bailey Page 0,23
suspect I’m walking right into.
"You know some guys think they are funnier than they actually are," I reply, smiling tightly at her as she looks down at me. "Don't worry about it."
"I'm not worried. It's already forgotten. Holy crap, look at this place," Mads gasps as we get to the top of the staircase, and we can see the crazy beautiful room we are in. The entire room sprawls out before us, with glass pillars holding the ceiling up. The crazy thing is the ceiling, the pillars and the floor are one large aquarium, filled with fish, sharks and stingrays. Even the bar in the middle of the room has a glass, fish-filled base. There are lights floating in the water with the fish, which make the room look both cosy and somehow bright at the same time. It’s the kind of place you would find all over rich girls’ Instagram feeds, the kind of place that might exist in a five-star Las Vegas hotel.
And yet, it’s damn near empty. There are about five other people total in here, and all of them are sitting together on the stools at the bar. I can only see the backs of their heads, but my senses tell me that none of them are the guy whose name is written on my hand. I suppose I could always teleport myself to my target, but that would mean using magic in front of Mads, which is an absolute no-go. At least if I play my cards right, I can explain away whatever I do to the guy as an accident or a strange coincidence, but there’s no logical explanation for disappearing in a puff of green smoke. No, better to wait this out and get a good look around; maybe I’ll be lucky and overhear his name in conversation.
As we walk to the bar, I see another larger group of men and women in the corner, wrapped up in each other like the start of an orgy. Needless to say, they don’t notice us, but I’m not too keen on staring, as much as I want to know if one of them is Neritous Cyncus. Clearing my throat and dropping my gaze, I give Mads’s arm a gentle tug, pulling her in the direction of the bar.
"It's quiet," I point out as we get to the bar and slide onto some stools, the ones on the opposite side of the men. “It’s strange, I would’ve thought a place like this would be packed on a Saturday night.”
“Maybe it’s new,” Mads comments, still busy ogling the decor around us. “Or expensive as shit.”
“Jeez, I didn’t think of that,” I mutter. “I’m not made of money.” Granted, I could probably cover our tab if this place takes human currency, but if we run up a huge bill and they only accept the gold of the gods, then we might be in trouble.
"They are cute," Mads whispers, looking over at the men on the opposite side of the bar. I turn in my seat and quickly run my eyes over them. They are young business types, all handsome in their own ways, but I'm so on edge in this place that I can't even focus on them long enough to determine if they’re my type.
At that moment, the bartender comes around the corner, smiling when he sees us. He’s cute, too, I notice, with wavy brown hair and big blue eyes. He is Mads’s type, especially with how tall he is. Judging by the way she’s looking at him, I think she’s picked up on that, too.
"What can I get you lovely ladies? Perhaps an Irish karma charm?" he asks, giving me a once-over with his eyes and winking. I'm sure it's charming in his head, but all I can focus on is the fact that he knows what I am. Gods have the ability to sense each other - sort of a sixth sense, the way you can sometimes sense when someone is watching you, even when your back is turned. To me, the bartender feels human, which is perplexing… although I suppose he might just be one of the few humans who was able to handle the truth about magic and supernaturals. It’s truly perplexing - even with all my focus on him, I can’t sense anything strange about this guy.
"Is that a cocktail?" Mads asks, oblivious to the implication. “Funny enough, my friend’s name is Karma!”
"Yes, madam. It's a favourite of my boss, actually,"