Page 35 of Asher

“It tastes expensive,” the lucifer says. “I like it.” And he tips back his glass and drinks it all.

Alistair stares at him in shocked delight. “What is even happening today? Are all my dreams coming true?”

His boyfriend and Ellie have their heads together, sniffing their glasses and muttering to each other. “Al, is this shifter made?” Aidan asks suspiciously.

Rolling his eyes, Alistair refills my and Sam’s glasses with the last of the bottle. “Of course it is. What would be the point of bringing alcohol that wouldn’t affect any of us?”

I study the glass and take a sip. “It really is nice. And so pretty.”

My cousin nods. “Right? Why can’t a drink be glittery? When I told them what I wanted, they understood my visioninstantly.”

“For once, it was a good vision,” the lucifer comments, lifting his glass in salute. Alistair stops him before he can drink.

“Go easy,” he warns. “It’s got a slightly higher alcohol volume than normal. Apparently it was the only way to make the glitter float instead of clumping.”

Lucifer Sam studies his glass. “How does that even work?”

“I didn’t ask. Those kinds of technical details bore me. I’m more of an ideas hellhound. Other people can handle the execution.”

“That’s the most self-aware thing you’ve ever said.” I smile at him. “Go, you.”

“Fuck you, I’mveryself-aware. Just ask Aidan. I can predict when I’m going to come right down to the second.”

I snort glittery champagne up my nose, and it burns. Oh crap, am I going tobreatheglitter as well as pooping it now?

While I cough and sputter and accept a handkerchief from Aidan to mop myself up—there’s glitter on my suit jacket, but I’m not all that mad about it—Alistair crows with laughter.

“Fuck it,” Sam says. “Two-drink limit. I drink this fast now so that anything else Alistair has planned will be soft-focus, and then I can’t drink any more.” He turns to me. “I don’t want to get drunk at your wedding.”

“That’s very consid—”

“I’d hate to make an idiot of myself in front of Gideon’s family.”

I close my mouth. I’ve been living in fairly close proximity to Gideon’s—and Asher’s—family for three months now, and I have no idea how they’d react to a drunken in-law. I think some of them would be amused… but Damaris? Not sure.

I eye Sam’s glass. It would make an interesting side study. They’ve welcomed me to the family because of my connection to Asher, but would their attitude change if I made a drunken fool of myself at a family event? And not just any family event, but my own wedding?

Before I can decide to steal the glass, Sam lifts it to his lips and empties it in two swallows.

Oh, well. This doesn’t mean I can’t still conduct the experiment, just that it’s delayed. That will give me time to decide if it’s actually a good idea.

Alistair is chiding Sam about how he was supposed tosipthe drink, and how can he enjoy life if he never takes time to savor the moment, and I feel the warm fuzz of two glasses of more-alcoholic-than-usual champagne drunk quickly slip over me. I’m not quite tipsy, but I’m… loose. Or, as Sam puts it, everything is now in soft focus.

It’s the perfect way to get married—through a romantic lens.

And speaking of… “Come on, it’s time. I’m going to marry Asher now.” I set down my glass, brush a hand over my glittery suit, and turn toward the door.

Only to be stopped by Alistair. He meets my gaze, and for once, his is dead serious. “Are you absolutely certain you want to do this? If you are, I’m gonna sit in the front row and clap the loudest when the ceremony’s done. But if you have even the tiniest bit of doubt, I have a plan to get you out of here.” He pauses. “And IthinkI can keep you safe from the scary grandma too. It depends on how afraid you are of falling off the Tower Bridge into the Thames and then disappearing forever.”

“That wouldn’t stop Damaris,” Sam mutters darkly, and Aidan makes a sound of agreement.

Touched—and wondering if there’s a way to ensure he never watches another action movie ever—I pat my cousin on the arm. “Thanks, Alistair, but I’m sure about this. Asher and I have an agreement that suits me well.” I lean in closer, the booze loosening my tongue. “And he has a magic cock.”

Someone makes a choking sound, but Alistair just grins in delight. “Magic? Excellent. You’ve needed someone to shoot some magic into you.”

That visual is a bit much even for my boozy soft focus, but fortunately, he changes the subject. “Righty-ho! It’s time to get Garrett married and stuffed with magic cock!”

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

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