Page 87 of A Sin So Pure

“You mean when we were reckless twenty-somethings with too much to drink and too much to prove?” I say.

“Yeah, except now you’re old.” Josie clicks her tongue with a snicker.

“I amnotold,” I gape, my hand coming to my chest in mock distraught.

“You’re almost thirty,” she says. She keeps a straight face, but her eyes sparkle with mirth.

“Thirty isnotthe new three hundred,” I say. “And you two aren’t that far behind me.” Under my breath I add, “Stupid cutoff for school pushed me into the younger year.”

“Oh, I know. But soon we’ll all be geriatric. The younglings will wonder when the Fading will catch up to us.”

We burst into laughter; hers sounds like wind chimes made into music.

“Excuse me—” the same patron calls from my right.

I give Josie a sorry smile and rap my knuckles on the wood in front of her.

“I’ll grab you a drink when I’m done with this one.”

An hour passes. Between me making drinks for other patrons and Josie sipping on hers, we chat; it’s easy, not needing to keep the conversation going long or with any kind of seriousness. Just two friends poking fun at each other and catching up.

It’s nice. Simple. Uncomplicated.

Work dies down, the main rush complete. Fae are buzzed from their drinks and craving the respite of the dance floor. Josie and I are huddled over the bar, people watching, when we spot Leo’s gap-toothed grin pop up among the partygoers.

“He’s really working the room tonight,” Josie says.

“Yeah, he’s doing good.”

“Why is it him out there and not you?” She asks it innocently, but those watchful eyes peer into my soul from over the edge of her glass.

“Why do you need to know?” I tease.

“Because I’m curious.”

I turn, grabbing Josie’s wine of choice from the icebox and pour her another drink. The faerie wine sparkles in the dim light, a maroon whirlpool that I get sucked into.

I haven’t told anyone about testing out a transition of power with Leo yet. It’s not common for a Sin to pass on the role while they’re still alive. It’s even less common to pass it to someone outside of the familial line, though it’s not like I have any biological family left.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” Josie says, pulling the glass from my hand and taking a large swig.

I shake off the strange trance.

“You’re fine,” I say. “We’re trying something new.”

“If you say so, Mo.”

Josie’s warm eyes dart to the dance floor as a fresh song plays. Excited screeches sound from the gaggle of women jumping up to dance; it isn’t a new hit by any means, but there’s something about the Charleston that gets alcohol-laden patrons moving.

A ghost of a smile parts Josie’s lips.

“You should go dance,” I say, wriggling my brows. “Enjoy yournight off.”

“No. No way,” she says. “I’m no good at dancing. Especially without everyone else to shield me.”

“It’s not about being good, it’s about having fun.”

She takes a tentative breath, eyes flicking between the dance floor and me.

---