Page 36 of Veil of Death and Shadow

As if he could read my thoughts, his mouth twisted into a smirk, a silent promise to transform that thought into reality if I only had the courage to ask.

And tonight, maybe I would let myself find it.

Sora tugged me, and my focus shot back to her. She glanced behind me and chuckled. “One drink first, then we can work on getting you laid.”

I opened my mouth as if to deny it but then closed my lips and nodded. She was right. It had been a while. And a little fun tonight was needed. Desperately. It would feel good to let loose for once.

The bar was busy, though most people seemed to only be drinking water, using the bartop as a space to cage themselves against another body, the air here slightly less heady than it had been on the floor.

We watched a man pay for two large glasses of wine and carry them back to his friend a few feet away.

The bartender turned to us and raised his brows in question.

Sora shot him a flirty grin. “We’ll take two of those as well.”

His eyes narrowed, then shot to our wrists. Chuckling, he shook his head. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Her brow furrowed, ready to argue the point, but I grabbed her hand and squeezed, clocking the bartender’s amused reaction.

He’d put the bottle of red back into a small fridge. The label was white, blank, except for a sharpie-scrawled AB+.

Blood.

“Oh,” she said, catching on just as I did. “What do you recommend then?”

He slid a menu across the bartop, pointing to a short list of cocktails for humans, most of which were non-alcoholic.

“We generally don’t recommend that you consume alcohol on the premises,” he tilted his head studying us, “especially if this is your first time here. It can take a bit to figure out just how the power of this place will affect you. And,” he winced apologetically, “no offense, but we’ve found that most humans are pretty lousy at handling their liquor in the best of circumstances.”

“Waters,” I said, then held up two fingers. He was probably right. I already felt buzzed, just from being in this room for a few minutes—but not like I usually would after a shot or two of tequila. This was slow and luxurious, a heady sort of buzz that usually came after a solid fuck or a deep-tissue massage.

Sora grabbed the waters, not putting up a fight, and handed me one.

I downed nearly half of it in one gulp, savoring the cool sensation as it swept down my throat.

“Damn.” Sora lifted the glass up, studying it. “This is the best glass of water I’ve ever had.”

I took another sip, nodding. If water tasted and felt this good, I’d have no problem hitting my daily ounce goal. But I knew it wasn’t just the water. It was this place. Everything felt heightened in here—every sip like the first gulp of cool water on the hottest day of summer, every graze against a stranger the promise of something more. The music was slow and sensual, and I felt it move through my body, as if it were emanating from me and not the stereo.

And, most importantly, since we’d walked in, my thoughts had been silent.

No spiraling.

No loops.

No intrusive thoughts.

Tension eased from my body, like a pool float being deflated, and I settled against the bartop, soaking in the sensation for a few moments.

Was this what it felt like—the absence of anxiety? Of fear?

The man from the dance floor made his way over to us, and a nervous, excited energy flooded my lower belly.

He was cute—a few inches taller than me, South Asian, with thick dark hair that lined his head and jaw.

Sora nudged her hip against mine, winking when I caught her eye.

“Talk about a tall glass of water,” she whispered into my ear, her voice light and airy with the lilt of barely contained laughter.

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