Nothing.
How depressing.
“Drink?” I repeat.
“Peppermint schnapps.” Alex winks.
I make a face. “Gross.”
“Hope likes it,” he says before turning and facing his wife, who just walked in the bar. She takes one look at him and sprints into his arms, tackling him against the counter, her mouth fused with his.
They’re like that on a daily basis. I’ve never been so thankful to live outside of the immortal compound. Ethan’s mansion is huge, and typically if you’re on the Immortal Council, you stay there in case of emergencies or a lockdown, but the minute I noticed all the happy couples, I realized I would rather face my dad Osiris again than spend one more night hearing everyone having sex.
“Hope?” I hand Alex his drink. “The usual?”
She shakes her head. “Water’s good.”
I pause.
Her brown eyes crinkle at the sides.
I slide my hand across the bar top and grab her by the wrist, my thumb brushing against her pulse. Tiny little flutters make themselves known against my skin.
There’s a cadence of two.
I can’t hold my smile back. “Congratulations.”
Alex turns back to us. “It’s not her birthday.”
I snort out a laugh. “He doesn’t know?”
Hope lifts her water glass to me and winks. “Cheers, I guess?”
“Know what?” Alex looks dumbly between us. “Hey, why aren’t you drinking white wine? It’s her favorite, worst bartender ever.”
“She’s pregnant, dumbass.” Cassius jerks out a barstool and plops down onto it. I’m surprised it doesn’t break under his weight. “Any idiot could tell. Are you sure you have Ra’s blood in you?”
“Smelled her from the door.” Timber appears suddenly behind Cassius. “Looks like the siren’s having a panic attack.” He kicks a barstool over. Alex collapses onto it, his face pale. “This might be the best day of my life.”
I laugh when Alex shakily reaches for his peppermint schnapps and starts chugging while the girls fall into easy conversation.
Tarek pops up next to me and slides a beer toward Timber. “Who’s pregnant?”
Hope raises her hand.
He sniffs the air. “Wow, good luck, Alex.”
Alex simply holds out his hand to me while the rest of the group laughs. “Where’s Ethan and Genesis?”
“Vacation.” Cassius shrugs. “And Mason went back to Scotland for a bit, so basically, I’m stuck in hell at the mansion with…” He makes a face at Alex. “That one.”
“He’s not that bad.” Stephanie nudges him in the ribs. “Plus, he got you that friendship bracelet.”
“It won’t come off.” His jaw clenches. “And it’s a mermaid.”
“I may have um… helped charm it,” Timber says guiltily. “But since it was a mermaid, I thought it was for Hope, so I wasn’t really—“
Cassius jumps to his feet, looking seconds away from obliterating Timber.
“Actually, I think my brother needs me. Behind the bar, far, far away from the angry archangel. Hey, how old are you anyway? Ten thousand? Twenty?” Timber laughs uncomfortably.
“Not helping.” Stephanie shoves Timber away.
“Once a demon, always a demon.” He salutes Cassius with his middle finger and nearly runs into Kit.
“You’re a demon?” she asks.
“One hundred percent accurate,” Alex speaks for Timber. “And I’m a male siren. I’ve been known to—”
Hope elbows him.
“What?” He blinks.
“It’s a family joke,” Tarek pipes up. “Right, Horus?”
“It’s a hilarious one too,” I deadpan. “One where this guy crossed an entire desert in nothing but a diaper and his will to live. Woke up with sand in every crevice, lost his memory, probably shit his pants, sound accurate Timber?”
I can feel his irritation.
He wants to punch me.
Hey, it’s been over a thousand years since I could tease the god of the underworld, and it’s deserved when it comes to this guy. Plus, he did abandon me for true love, as if that’s something special.
Maybe I’ve lived too long.
Timber holds up a finger. “First, I wasn’t in a diaper—“
Cassius leans forward. “Actually, ancient Egyptians used to wear a clothlike…” He reads the room and clears his throat. “It’s my birthday.”
Timber glares. “Forgiven.”
“Are these your friends?” Kit laughs.
“Family.” Timber eyes me up and down. “Can’t you see the resemblance in the good looks, the bright blond hair, and those eyes?”
She shrugs. “Sure?” She ignores the pull of all the immortals as if they have zero effect on her and turns to me. “Some guy puked in the men’s restroom then actually did shit his pants since he clearly didn’t have an Egyptian diaper on him. Can you send someone to clean it up?”
“Not it,” Tarek says quickly.
Timber’s stare is wicked. “I’m the owner of the club, so…”
“We have other waiters,” I point out.
Timber grabs me by the shoulders and points me toward the bathroom, whispering in my ear. “Yes, but Ted has trouble tying his shoes and would probably make the situation worse. You, however, have special abilities, so just pop right in there, do a little flick, and come back.”
“Why does it feel like Satan’s sitting on my shoulder?” I whisper so only he can hear. “And you know we aren’t supposed to use our powers flippantly.”
Timber slaps me on the ass. “Go, I believe in you.”
I roll my eyes and walk by Cassius. “He’s your problem now.”
Cassius keeps sipping his drink like he’s well aware that Timber’s his problem.
“But happy birthday,” I feel the need to add.
He grumbles something about being too old to be in a club while Timber joins Tarek behind the bar.
Kit’s nowhere to be seen when I gain enough courage to go to the men’s restroom. I’ve fought wars. I’ve faced gods. I’ve seen kingdoms rise and fall. And I still don’t feel prepared for what’s behind that metal door.
I take a deep breath and cautiously venture into the bathroom. The stench is so horrible that I almost gag. I can see puke and all the rest of the darkness near the third toilet.
There’s a guy lying on the tile floor groaning.
Yeah, well, it’s not a fun moment for me either. For being a club, the bathrooms are really nice, with black and white checkered floors, black walls, and mirrors that, if you look at them long enough, hold you captive until a demon can come in and feed on you.
That was Timber’s special touch before he actually gained his soul back, though he still keeps them in place so he can control and separate the bad demons from the good.
They think they’re about to have a snack all before he judges them and sends them into the underworld.
“Get up,” I bark. The guy has puke crusted on his green band T-shirt and can barely keep his eyes open. At least he has pants on.