Page 50 of Oleander
“Lavender iced tea with extra lemons.”
“Um. Sure.” Skyler looks doubtful about ordering such a drink, but it’s pretty standard in Faerie, and there’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll make it here. He repeats my order to the bartender, who turns to make it in a hurry.
“Thank you, Sky.” Warmth blooms in my chest at his thoughtfulness.
“Guess we found our designated driver for the night,” Zephyr says with a satisfied grin on his face. He tosses keys at me, guiding them through the air with his magic, allowing me to catch them effortlessly. The metal clangs together loudly, and I hold my palm open, staring down at the keys like I’ve never seen them before.
“I-I don’t know.” My voice is weak, and I feel a blush creep into my cheeks.
Icandrive. I choose not to. But maybe this is another chance to push myself out of my comfort zone and change my future.
The bartender places my lavender tea in front of me, followed by a plate of lemon slices.
I take a sip, humming at the perfect mix of flavors. Emboldened by my favorite alcohol-free drink, I calmly agree to drive a carload of drunk and rowdy teenagers home from a sketchy bar outside of the academy walls.
Brilliant.
“Okay, sure.”
Cheers erupt, and Zephyr buys another round. Unfortunately for me, this time, it’s my favorite drink, and I instantly regret agreeing to be the designated driver. But I sip my virgin teanonetheless while they sip their perfectly constructed absinthe sours.
“Next round’s on me. No paupers here.Assholes.” Skyler stands, his chair legs scraping loudly against the old wooden floor. He zigzags the short distance to the bar and leans over, shouting at the burly Fae making everyone’s drinks. “Hey! Can I get five old fashioneds?” He glances back at me. “Make that four. And one. . . um. . . one lemonade.”
Neither drink is popular in Faerie, and even though the bartender doesn’t say a word, I don’t miss the way he eyes Skyler as he mixes the unusual requests.
Skyler’s icy blue eyes are developing a glossy sheen. A vacant look I don’t like to see. He’s kept up with Zephyr, Hawk, and Leo, whereas I resigned myself to the fate of the dreaded sober driver. Rightly earned, though, seeing as how I accidentally spewed alcohol all over Hawk’s face.
My eyes scan the small place, keeping an eye on all of the intoxicated patrons and making sure no one tries to get one over on the drunk academy kids. My probing gaze lands on Hawk, who’s laughing with two older locals as he leans over the bar to whisper into the bartender’s ear. A mischievous smirk tugs at his lips, and I know he's up to something.
They forget I’m sober, and I notice everything.
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms and watching the crowd. Soft pendulum lighting and candle-lit chandeliers dot the dim atmosphere, illuminating the space with their amber glow. Old planks line the walls, but they’re neatly kept and nicely polished, as are the small tables and wooden bar top. Barrelsof aged wine are stacked in nearly every dark corner, tempting me with their smooth, velvety flavors. Sparrow Spring Tavern is known for its home-brewed spirits, wine, and beer. The castle has a regular delivery set up because my mother loves her red wine. My eyes dart back to Hawk when a loud laugh erupts from him, and I hear something lewd about a sprite and a pixie. They all give him a congratulatory slap on the back, and Hawk finishes his beer, returning with a tray of shots.
Fairy moonshine, if I had to guess.
He roughly sets the tray down, some of the alcohol spilling over. “Drink up, lads.”
“Just imagine it, Sky!” Hawk shouts, a taunting edge slicing through his words. I’ve lost count of the number of shots my companions have consumed at this point. “You can win a trophy, money, prove the worth of all of humanity,andsee a fucking hellhound. Sounds like a win-win-win-win to me,” Hawk slurs each word with such conviction I nearly believe him myself.
Is he talking about what I think he is?
I glance at the small table tucked into a dark corner of the bar where a century-old parchment rests, lit only by a small oil lamp next to it. It’s a magical signup sheet for the most dangerous event in all of Auroria.
The Wild Hunt.
“Hell yeah, it does.” Skyler agrees, bracing his arms on the table and using it to climb to his feet.
“Skyler. . .” My voice is a little too soft, and everyone’s a little too drunk and loud. I don’t want to question him in front of our friends, but Ireallydon’t think it’s a good idea.
“Think of it as an initiation of sorts,” Zephyr insists, glaring at me with drunken ire.
“Okay. Yeah.” Skyler’s innocent and somewhat blank stare wraps around my heart like barbed wire, twisting and tearing. “Initiation to what?” His dark brows crease in confusion.
“Our group,” Hawk answers with a fake smile, slinging his arms around Zephyr and Leo’s shoulders.
I follow Skyler as he stumbles to the dark corner, our friends cheering him along.
A man suddenly appears from the shadows behind the table, revealing his face when he drops his hood. We both gasp and nearly trip over each other, startled by his presence. I thought this was an empty table.
