I slide the cup toward me, noticing that it’s so damn full I won’t even be able to pick it up, not without spilling it. Which, of course, was Grumpy’s MO. He wants to make this as difficult on me as he can so he has another reason to be pissed at my messiness. But he has a huge error in his way of thinking. He thinks because an Abdicated is here, I won’t slurp this stuff like a toddler learning to eat chicken noodle soup for the first time, and he’s wrong. So wrong.
As soon as the cup is at the edge of the table, I lean down, press my lips against the edge, and sluuuuuuuuurp!
Taz and GL look like they’re going to have a heart attack.
Echo smirks, Crux snorts, and Jerif looks at me with his arms crossed in front of his chest like he loves how antagonistic I’m being. Iceman winces a little, but I shoot him a wink, silently reminding him that Taz won’t do shit to me.
Distracted, I’m all ready with my fork, poised to shovel chicken salad in my mouth to get the taste of the drink out as fast as possible, but then the taste actually hits me.
“Oh my Hellgate,” I groan before leaning forward and slurping more.
It’s fucking delicious.
It tastes like butterscotch and fresh bread rolls, and it...tickles as it slides smoothly down my throat. As quickly as I can, I lift it up and down the whole thing like I’m a baseball player downing a bottle of Gatorade.
“Ha!” Crux claps a hand down onto the table. “I knew it!” he says victoriously.
I wipe my lips with the back of my hand and hold my glass up. “Fill ’er up, Grumpy, and keep ’em coming,” I say brightly.
With a glower, he refills my glass, and I bask in the taste and hum a little in happiness as warm, soothing spirits hit my system. “Fuck, this is good. I can’t believe how good this is!” I say excitedly to Echo. “Here, try some!”
His grin stretches wide. “I already have some, remember?”
I look around the table and remember that, yes, they do already have some. “Oh, right. Well, let’s make a toast!”
I raise my glass in the air, waiting pointedly until they all do the same. Jerif and Taz don’t do it though, because they’re stubborn, prideful jerks, and I expect nothing less. “To demon spirits tasting fucking epic!” I say before clinking my glass against the others as they chuckle, humoring me.
I drink the delicious liquid down and shake my glass in the air for GL. His heavy brow pulls down into a deeper frown as he comes forward, tipping the bottle over and emptying the last of its contents. “That’s all there is,” he tells me, then turns on his heel and leaves the room, probably to prevent me from asking him to open another bottle.
I sip the last of it, trying to savor the taste. “Mmm. I can’t believe how awful this stuff tasted before, but let me tell you, this is 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
