Page 19 of Dark Witch: Entangled Fates

Peter glanced at the doors to the dining room, and when he saw them open, he clapped Jay on his back. "Let's go. Our dates are waiting for us."

The Clan Mother had departed through a secret passage that took her to one of the staff elevators that had been blocked off just for her.

Jay shook his head, looking like he'd awoken from a daze. "Yeah. Wow, that was something else." He shook his head. "I would have never imagined Onegus could deliver such a mushy speech."

"Mushy?" Peter arched a brow. "It wasn't mushy. Compared to the others, it was damn funny. I laughed so hard when he talked about Cassandra blowing up the punch bowl. At first, he covered up for her, but later, they both admitted that it was her doing." He started toward the exit.

"I remember." Jay fell into step with him. "I wasn't fond of Cassandra at first. She seemed a little standoffish, but later I realized that it was a defense mechanism. She lived in constant fear of accidentally blowing things up and harming people."

"Yeah, must have been tough. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with her."

Peter still thought that Cassandra was a little snooty, but if she made Onegus happy, which she obviously did, then he had absolutely no problem with her. He thought about Marina and her shifting moods. She'd been a little off today, probably shaken by her admission that she wanted more from him than he could give her.

He would have loved nothing more than to invite her to live with him in his house, but what would be fun in the short term would be excruciatingly painful in the long run, and he had to be smart about it.

As they approached the bar, the sound of laughter drifted to meet them. But there was an edge to it, a brittle quality that set Peter's teeth on edge.

Rounding the corner, they found Marina and Larissa, where they had left them less than an hour ago. They were still perched on the same barstools, but now their cheeks were flushed, and their eyes were a little too bright.

"Peter!" Marina's voice was screechy and loud. "And Jay! You are finally back." She leaned over to her friend. "Larissa and me, we thought that you forgot about us."

"Never," Peter said.

As he walked over to her, Marina started to slide off the stool, but wobbled precariously, and as he caught her, she fell into his arms with a giggle and a burp. "Sorry." She put a hand over her mouth and giggled again.

"Someone had a glass or two too many," he murmured. "How many have you had?"

Marina waved a dismissive hand. "I don't know. Ask Vasyli."

Beside them, Jay was helping Larissa off her own stool. He looked concerned even though his date didn't look half as inebriated as Marina.

Peter turned to the bartender. "How much did Marina have?"

"A lot." Vasyli smiled sheepishly. "I tell them both it was too much," he said in heavily accented English. "But they don't listen."

Marina's head whipped around, her eyes narrowing into a glare. "You're such a lousy bartender," she accused, her words slurring slightly. "You just broke the sacred trust between a customer and their barman. You released confidential information to a third party."

Peter bit back a smile at her drunken indignation. Even three sheets to the wind, his girl was a firecracker.

"I'm hungry," Larissa announced, leaning heavily against Jay. "Let's go inside and have dinner," she said in Russian, probably forgetting that Marina wanted her to practice her English. "The kitchen is serving beef Stroganoff tonight, and it's my favorite."

Jay seemed to understand what she'd said and started toward the dining hall but then stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

"You two go ahead. We'll catch up in a bit."

Peter tightened his hold on his unsteady date. "Hey." He brushed a strand of blue hair off her forehead. "How about we step outside for a little bit? Some fresh air will do you good."

"Great idea." She nodded. "It might help, or I might puke over the railing. One of the two."

Peter chuckled. "Throwing up will be good for you too. You will feel better after that."

He glanced over at Vasyli, who was watching the exchange with amusement in his eyes. "Do you have any bottled water back there?"

When the bartender nodded and reached beneath the bar, Peter held up two fingers. "I'll take two, just in case. And a bunch of napkins, please."

He hoped Marina wouldn't throw up, but if she did, he wanted to be prepared.

As Vasyli handed over the bottles and the napkins, Peter stuffed the items into the pockets of his tuxedo jacket.

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