Page 13 of Immortal Sun

He storms out of the bar.

I almost ask about the tension, but everyone’s already getting up. Daggon grabs his navy peacoat and a black scarf while Inti walks over to Cyrus and puts his hand on his chest then whispers something.

Cyrus’s eyes never leave mine as he listens.

He finally nods his head.

The room suddenly feels too small for both of us. “Um, thank you.” I start to grab my plate, then set it back down. “Should I clear the table?”

“We have waiters for that.” He stands.

I have trouble looking away from him and can’t explain why, other than he’s just really good looking. Yeah, that has to be it; that and the wine. “I know but technically that is my job.”

“Not tonight it is.”

“Have some Scotch with me.” He asks it, but the words feel more like a command as he walks around the bar and grabs a few bottles then slowly starts to pour small amounts in each glass. “These are our top shelf bottles, compliments of the one you met previously, Mason. He’s Scottish born, rich as shit, and we’re the only bar he’ll sell to.”

“Oh?” I sip the whiskey; it burns down my throat. “What’s that?” I take a look around. The ambiance is really dark down to the Mahogony bar top and even crazier when you see the wingback chairs scattered around the large room. Most of the tables are high tops but a few, like the one I was just at, were regular sized. The door keeps swinging open as people start to filter in. My eyes narrow when a man with what looks like red contacts walks a woman towards the wall and presses her against it, drink in hand. I look around for security then see her small smile, he takes a swig of his glass then grips her by the chin, her lips part. He quickly kisses her, she visibly swallows then looks up at him with what can only be described as absolute obsession.

“Distracting, isn’t it?” Cyrus says making me jump a foot. I spill the drink in my hand and try to quickly set it down, but miss the countertop, making it topple and shatter loudly on the floor. Without thinking, I get down on my hands and knees to clean up the mess not realizing the glass nearly exploded, sending shards everywhere. Belatedly I realize my kness and hands are peppered with small cuts.

Do I move?

Tell him?

It hurts. Bad. Great. I already messed up on my first night because I saw two people kiss. I wince when I try to stand up. Cyrus is immediately by my side lifting me into his arms and placing me on the counter. Oh, um okay.

He examines my knees hooking his hands gently behind them to pull me forward from the bartop. “I’m okay.”

His hands are so warm though. They feel nice.

I instantly think of the kiss I’d just witnessed and imagine his fingers fanning the flames across my skin. I rebuke every and all weird thoughts about my boss immediately. I’m just tired.

He leans down and blows across my bare skin. Immediate heat slams into my body so hard that my eyes close. Dizzy, when I open my eyes he’s standing up and not even touching me. “Better?”

I blink down at my skin, you can barely see the small dots of blood and the glass is all but gone. He holds up a rag and dumps it in the trash. “Shall we continue this in my office?”

This? What isthis?

The corner of his mouth lifts in an enticing smile. “The whiskey tasting, Cleo.”

“Yes!” I did not need to yell in his face while my own is probably blushing like crazy. What’s wrong with me? I fight the urge to fan myself from the heat pulsing through my body. “I mean, yeah probably safer for the glass.”

Kill me now.

“Yes, we must keep the glass safe at all costs from the new trainee.” He winks and holds out his hand. I grab it and hop off the bar and turn around just in time for the same guy kissing that one girl holds up two fingers.

Two of what? I panic for the two seconds it takes Cyrus to grab two new wineglasses and a bottle of wine without the label. He tosses it in the air then spins it like spin the bottle on the bartop, pops open the cork and pours them to the brim. “May the blood of the gods nourish you.”

Say what? I frown and reach for the bottle. “What is?—”

He jerks the bottle away. “You’re still in training. Whenever someone asks for a number of something but doesn’t specify what, you will always assume it’s for this one bottle.”

“Okay.” I watch him put it away in the freezer. “What’s in it?”

He smirks and leans forward until his face is inches from mine. “Why the blood of the gods, what else would it be?”

I narrow my eyes. “No, but seriously what is it?”

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