59. WEN

Ishould have considered this before. I’ve made hundreds of people Angelescence addicts. I should have realized that Sarah was my first victim.

And like any addict who’s been forced into sobriety, she never stopped being one.

Now she’s drunk, her inhibitions are dissolving, and her addiction is resurfacing.

She sits up, digging her fingers into my arms. “These are the perfect conditions to make as much Angelescence as we need! With all the Angelbloods around, if we get them riled up enough, I bet you can make us a year’s supply!”

The delirious, dangerous gleam in her eyes makes me revise my opinion. Sarah is not a disinhibited drunk; she’s a manic one.

I can foresee where this is going. She is going to try anything to get her fix, even if it means starting a Celestial barfight.

Jinny’s head snaps up. “Did you say barfight?”

Ugh. She heard my thoughts.

I press her head to the table. “Down, Demondoodle. We’re here to dance, hopefully in more than one way, remember?”

She swats my hand away as she raises her head, her eyes glowing crimson. “No, I wanna a barfight.”

Sarah drapes her arm over my shoulder, leaning on me heavily. “See? Jin agrees with me.”

Aela turns to us, her voice too loud in the lull between songs. “Agrees about what?”

With their song ended, Matt and Cara crowd in, asking the same thing. Sarah explains her idea of instigating a brawl, if not her motive behind it. Thank Hell for minuscule favors.

Matt nods so vigorously, I fear she’d snap her neck. “It’s a brilliant idea. Far better than drinking or dancing or even sex. Let’s put our training into action without the fucking professors correcting our every fucking move! I just wanna lash out and inflict and sustain damage, and spend tomorrow in the Sanatorium drowning in the sheer bliss and blessing of their chocolate pudding!”

Cara’s eyes glaze over with a ferocious gleam. “Yeah, I wanna hurt people and break things.”

Did I say this night would be interesting? Try disastrous.

What do I do with a bunch of drunk and powerful girls bent on mayhem and destruction?

Anything I do has to be drastic, since I don’t see them backing down any other way. They’re too out of control to listen to reason. Which is weird, since they couldn’t have drunk that much.

Iglugged half a bottle of that disgusting swill that affected them so much, and I’m not buzzed in the slightest. It must be another damn side effect of my Angelescence-making ability. If it can’t affect me, nothing can.

As they all start to rise, I feel it.

His presence.

Before I can turn my head, his voice hits me, with the force of a bolt of lightning.

“White.”

He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. Like always. His merest whisper would always reach me, invade me, conquer me to my deepest reaches, even across realms.

I once wished I ran the moment I heard his voice. Even then, I sensed it would toss me into an unending maelstrom of trouble.

Now, even when I hate him again, when I’m facing a terrible situation, I no longer wish I did. I can no longer imagine any life without him at its center.

Knowing him, being transfigured by him, has rewritten my very being.

Turning, I find him standing outside the booth, his shadow smothering everyone into muteness and immobility. Even in a casual charcoal leather jacket and jeans he looks every inch the juggernaut of the supernatural that he is. A god of annihilation and temptation.

Forcing myself not to melt under his gaze, I scoff, “Impeccable timing as always, Godawful.” Then I hear what I said and I realize, for once, it’s true.

Without a second thought, I climb on the table, the shortest way out of the trap of bodies.

His eyes flare emerald as he watches me crawling towards him on all-fours.

As soon as I jump off the table, he opens his mouth. Even though my head is spinning at his nearness, I preempt him, dragging him down by his jacket, and pouring the situation into his ear.

His eyes start to bleed obsidian lightning as it drills into the others.

Fighting not to wrap myself around him and forget everything, I demand, “Order them to stand down!”

Searing me with an unfathomable glance, he straightens. Everyone at the table shrinks, as if to stop him from noticing and singling them out.

He doesn’t speak at once, adding to the unbearable tension. Everyone is almost pissing themselves when he finally does, his voice a distant roll of thunder, promising devastation.

“Do anything stupid tonight, and you answer to me.”

Everyone nods, even those who don’t understand what he’s talking about. Even Jinny looks put out for once.

Then Matt shouts, “Let’s go dance everyone!”

Finding it the perfect excuse to escape Godric’s vicinity, everyone springs into action, filing out of the booth like sheep herded by a dragon. Not even Jinny looks back as they make a very disciplined beeline for the dance floor.

I look up at him and smirk. “Like Sarah said earlier, ‘at least you hunk of muscles and feathers have other uses.’”

In response, he reaches a hand that can bring this whole place down with one blow, and curls it around my arm, almost burning through my clothes and synapses.

Yeah, he touches me now. When I no longer want him to. Not if he won’t go any further.

“Come with me,” he rasps.

I tilt my head up, looking my challenge straight into the magnificent storms of his eyes. “Does it involve rock-this-region, crack-the-Earth-crust sex?”

The emerald grows blinding. “No.”

“Then I’m going nowhere with you. I’m going dancing with my friends.”

The leash materializes around my neck. “We can do this with you upright, or on your belly. Your choice.”

In response, I plaster myself against him, feel him hard and huge and straining against his jeans and my belly. “Or I climb and dry hump you until I get the orgasm you’re withholding. Don’t worry, with the way I’m worked up, it would only take a few grinds. Then I’ll still go dancing with my friends. Your choice.”

It’s then I see it. That delicious stymied look.

The knowledge that I do to him what nothing and no one else has is almost orgasmic in itself.

I start to push past him before I stop, spread my hand over his chest. It feels like touching a volcano seconds before lava breaks its surface.

“Oh, and be there at Lycurgus Arena at four a.m. sharp. We’re starting Phase Two. Don’t make me come get you.”

Grinding his teeth so loud it cuts through the din of the music, he dissolves the leash, impales me with a bolt of frustration, and turns around.

As he walks away, I salivate over the acres of his back, his miles of limbs, and his legendary ass.

Then, knowing he’d hear me, I murmur, “Bakbakaaaak.”