Page 6 of Country and Clove
“We need you to take them.” Aria chewed her bottom lip.
“Why me?” Clove tossed her a wary look.
“Dahlia and I are pregnant, Nova is still breastfeeding, Brona and Laurie are mostly human and both tapped out after three shots each, Leah is refusing to take part because she’s a grumpy bitch—”
“That’s it.” Leah stood, arms crossed. “I’m texting Romani to teleport me out of this phallus-filled hellhole.”
“We haven’t even cut the cake!” Aria whined. She turned back to Clove. “Liv and Abigail haven’t shown up, and Gigi went missing as soon as we arrived. You’re the star of the show now, Clove. We need you to take these shots so we don’t look like a bunch of pussies to the hot guys who keep staring over here to see if we took them.”
“I’m not taking two dozen shots, Aria. That’s too much even for a lycan.”
“Fine, you don’t have to take all of them, just do as many as you can. We will shove the rest down Liv’s throat when she gets here. Between two lycans and a Chosen witch, y’all should have no problem.” Aria’s grin lit up her beautiful face.
“I don’t know…”
“You’ve barely been around lately. We’ve all noticed. I called you six times last week and ended up having to talk to Gigi to find out if you were still alive.” Aria pouted, having clearly changed tactics.
“A guilt trip? Really?” Clove accused. Some part of her did feel guilty. What Aria said was true. She had withdrawn in the past few weeks.
“Okay, fine. That was a shitty move,” Aria admitted. “Being pregnant is great and I’m so thankful but it has been harder than I thought to take a step back and be the more responsible one. Everything is changing.” Aria sighed. “So please just let me live vicariously through you while you party like you’re me.” Aria gave her that desperately pleading look and Clove cracked.
“Fine.” She picked up the first shot. “This type of behavior is toxic, you know that, right?”
“Absolutely. Now drink up!” Somehow Aria always got what she wanted. Clove didn’t hold it against her. It was just the type of person she was.The squeaky wheel gets the oil, as her mom used to say. Besides, Aria’s intentions were good and Clove knew if she needed her, Aria would do anything for her friends and loved ones. She was loyal in a way that went far beyond her lycan nature.
Clove downed the first shot.Ughhha lemon drop. This was going to be worse than she’d anticipated. Aria handed Clove another. Each one was more lemony and sweet than the last. The rest of the girls cheered her on—with the exception of Leah who really had texted Romani to come get her. Her mate showed up around the fourth shot and whisked Leah away. Clove wished she’d begged Romani to take her with them.
Laurie rubbed her back, quietly reminding her that she didn’t have to drink anything she didn’t want to, while Brona chanted, “One more, one more.” Clove took another and vowed to never again drink a lemon drop. It was as sour as it was sweet and not something she would ever choose on her own. “You can do it! One more!” Brona hiccupped. She clearly couldn’t hold her liquor. The witch’s cheeks were as red as her hair and her turquoise eyes were glazed.
Clove made it to shot number eight before refusing the next. Her stomach was burning and a blurry haze had settled over her mind.
“Wooo! You are a champ! Non-pregnant Aria would be so proud,” Aria gushed, and actual tears pooled in her eyes. “Stupid hormones.” She wiped away the liquid with the back of her hand. “Now where the hell are Liv and Abigail?” Aria whirled, searching the club. Clove sat down, suddenly wobbly on her feet now that the consecutive shots were catching up to her. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Aria growled out.
“What’s the matter?” Laurie rushed to Aria’s side.
“Lark is here,” Aria seethed. “I told himnotto follow us out on our girls’ night!”
Dahlia peered around. “Are you sure? I don’t see him.” She had a point. Lark tended to stand out in a crowd, with his white hair, color-changing eyes, and a deep facial scar. He was also cruelly gorgeous and girls tended to flock to him, subconsciously drawn to his magic.
“He’s glamoured. Tall, black hair, grey leather jacket.” Aria fumed. The women all followed her gaze and indeed found the man she described staring at them. “Lark!” Aria yelled, not seeming to care that she was making a scene. “Get over here.” Aria was tiny but fierce. The man smirked and made his way toward them.
“Is there a problem, ladies?” he offered with a dark chuckle.
“Drop the glamour, I don’t want to stare at that fake face anymore.” Aria poked him in the chest. Between one breath and the next, Lark stood before them. The transition was so quick, so seamless that Clove doubted anyone would notice if they hadn’t already been watching him closely.
“How’s the party, princess?” Lark asked, still smirking.
“I specifically told you not to follow me around tonight and you ignored me.” Aria crossed her arms and gave Lark the full intensity of her sapphire glare.
“I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again. There’s nothing that can keep me away from you, Aria.” He gave her a smug grin. Aria went full psycho, tearing into him with a string of unladylike curses. Laurie stroked her arm, attempting to bring peace to the group with her Chosen gifts. Laurie could manipulate emotions, but Aria was so fired up that it was having little effect. Apparently Laurie’s gifts were harder to use on pregnant women because their emotions were so much more unpredictable.
Clove took the opportunity to slip away and into the bathroom. The club music pulsed into her bones as she walked. Her body was uncomfortably hot. Alcohol burned through her system like liquid fire. It should wear off quickly with her lycan metabolism, but the rapid-fire succession of shots seemed to all be hitting at once. She splashed cold water on her face to cool down. Clove rarely wore makeup, so washing her face in a bar bathroom would hardly impact her appearance. If Gigi did it, she’d come out looking like a damn racoon.
The music was deafening as Clove stepped out of the restroom. Alcohol buzzed through her senses, making everything feel blurry and muted.
“I found you!” Clove turned to find Brona stumbling her way, a frosted penis cookie in each hand. “You’re not leaving, are you?” Brona looked to be in even worse shape than Clove. She swayed on her feet, her long red hair falling forward into her eyes. “You have to stay. Tonight”—she hiccupped loudly—“isthe nightfor you two.”
“The what for who?” Clove asked, uncertain if Brona’s words were simply drunken ramblings or something important. She had the gift of the Sight, but usually seers kept their visions to themselves in order to protect the future.
