“Nice to meet you. I like your place.”
“Thank you. Welcome to Sikaru, Vervain.” She shook my hand. “Would you care to join me upstairs?”
“We'd be delighted,” Sin answered for us.
Ninkasi led us past a couple of bouncers and into a small elevator.
“So, you're a bar-owner as well?” She asked after the doors had shut.
“Partially. I own a place with my husband. It's called Moonshine.”
“You're married?” Ninkasi looked from me to Sin and back in surprise.
“Separated,” Sin clarified with a wink at her. “You know I'm not that much of a scoundrel.”
She grimaced.
“I'm aware,” I said meaningfully to her. “And it's not happening.”
Ninkasi laughed. “I like you.”
“Aware of what?” Sin frowned at us.
“Of your game, you man-whore,” Ninkasi declared as the elevator dinged and opened on the second floor.
“I am not a man-whore,” Sin protested. “As I just mentioned; I have standards. No men, no one under eighteen, and no married women.”
Ninkasi and I laughed as we strode out together.
“I'm not a man-whore.” Sin hurried after us. “At least, I don't mean to be. I can't help it; my name is Sin.”
“I married a man like him. I can spot one from twenty yards,” I said to Ninkasi as she led us through a collection of round tables and over to a curtained booth along the far wall. The curtains were swept back but gave the illusion of privacy.
Gods watched us curiously as we passed, and Ninkasi ignored them. She went straight to the empty booth, doubtless reserved for her, and slid across the leather seat. I took a glance around before I joined her. Solid doors on my right blocked off the balcony I'd spotted from below, softening the music and making it much easier to have a conversation.
“You married a man-whore?” Ninkasi asked in surprise.
“He reformed for me.” I slid onto the seat beside her.
“Ask her how many husbands she has,” Sin prompted Ninkasi as he took the bench across from us.
Ninkasi just looked at me with a lifted brow.
“Six,” I admitted. “And one boyfriend. It's a lioness thing.”
“Fascinating. Which one did you leave?”
“All but one,” I whispered. “I'm not sure if I can salvage the last marriage; that's still up in the air.”
Something sharpened inside me with those words. Sharpened and struck. I breathed deeply through the pain as Ninkasi's eyes widened.
“You left six out of seven? When?”
“This morning.”
“Holy shit.” She gaped at me for a second and then lifted a hand and snapped her fingers. “Tequila! Three glasses.”
I chuckled as a waitress hurried to fill a tray with a bottle of tequila, three shot glasses, salt, and a bowl of limes before she scampered over.
“I'm fine. Really,” I said.
“Fine or not, celebration or sorrow, leaving six men—possibly seven—calls for shots,” Ninkasi declared.
“Fair enough.” I grinned as I accepted a glass from her.
“So, you don't allow Gods to perform magic in your club,” Ninkasi mused. “That's a good idea.”
“It's safer that way. For everyone.”
“How do you oath them before they get inside?” She shot back her drink and angled herself to lean against the wall so she could face me and Sin both.
“We have a foyer much larger than yours with two entrances branching off it. We separate the gods from the humans there and direct them to the VIP entrance,” I explained. They get oathed in an antechamber before they're allowed through. We also set up a booth in the parking lot because we had some trouble happen just outside our club.”
“Interesting,” she murmured. “I wouldn't have to deal with a parking lot, all I'd need to do is set up a room off the foyer. Thanks for the idea.”
“No problem.” I lifted my glass to her in salute. “Thanks for being so welcoming.”
“Perhaps too welcoming.” A man slid onto the seat beside Sin, crowding Sin toward the wall.
I'd noticed him earlier; handsome in a stoic way. He had a jaw that looked as if it could cut glass, sardonic lips, and a pair of dark eyes that had flashed with fire when they first spotted me. I knew his magic immediately; I've known enough sun gods to recognize one. He, like Sin and Ninkasi and everyone else in the room, for that matter, had the exotic look of the region, and I had a feeling that they were all a part of the same Pantheon.
They are, Star confirmed. You've just landed in the middle of a Mesopotamian playground.
You did this, I accused with a hint of amusement.
I promise you; I did not. I think Fate may be trying to wrestle its way back into your life.
Interesting. Even when I scorn it, it wants me.
Fate must be a man. Star chuckled.
“You should be more careful of who you entertain, Ninka,” the new guy went on.
“Have I offended you somehow?” I asked casually.
“Your blood offends me,” he narrowed his eyes at me. “Your very existence offends me.”
“What the fuck, Marduk?” Sin gaped at the other man.
“Marduk?” I asked and then laughed. I muttered to myself, “Fate is a man. A mischievous man.”
“Indeed, it is,” Ninkasi agreed as she refilled my glass. “Mischievous and horny. Fate always wants to fuck with you.”
“Do I know you?” Marduk lifted a scornful brow at me.
“You sure are acting as if you do,” I shot back.
“I may not know who you are, but I know what you are, Dragon,” he growled.
“You're a dragon?” Sin and Ninkasi both asked at once. Neither sounded afraid or offended. In fact, they both seemed eager.
“Fools!” Marduk hissed. “Do you have any idea what a dragon could do to Bahrain?”
“Bask in the heat and sleep the day away like a cat?” I offered. “I love the sun. Although, I'll make an exception for you, Sun God.”
“I'm the God of Light, not the God of the Sun.”
“Really? I would have sworn you were a sun god. How odd,” I murmured.
“Marduk's light stems from the Sun,” Ninkasi explained. “He's technically the God
