He shrugged. "Not necessarily. Is it not human nature to want to visit the bathroom after a large intake of alcohol?"
I glanced across at Logan. He'd suddenly started guzzling beer like it was water. I met Azriel's gaze again. It was as impassive as ever, but deep in those blue depths, amusement lurked. "Your doing?"
"His memories may have been blocked, but his control centers have not."
I grinned. "Brilliant idea."
"I do have them occasionally."
I snorted softly. "And you're modest to boot."
"What is the truth is hardly modest."
"But it also suggests you've had more than a few bad ideas."
There was a flicker in his eyes that spoke of regret. "No Mijai is infallible. That is why we are dark angels."
I half wondered what infallibility he was talking about, because I very much suspected it wasn't the actions that had made him a Mijai.
The auction finished and music started up. Logan rose and—looking decidedly unsteady on his feet—grabbed the hand of the blonde sitting next to him and dragged her toward the dance floor.
"Do you think we should keep close to him?" I asked, half fearing the answer would be no, and yet—absurdly—also fearing a yes.
He wasn't looking at me, but rather Logan. "It would be more advantageous if we were close. It will be easier to prevent others from following him into the bathroom."
Damn. I took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Can you dance?"
He glanced at me. "If dancing requires little more than shuffling your feet from one side to the other, as many on that floor are currently doing, then yes."