Page 3 of Of Serpents and Ruins
I fought the urge to recoil and blinked back at him. "Oh, um, yes, quite a crowd," I mumbled back in answer to his first question, dropping my gaze.
He chuckled, his hand massaging his glass before he took another sip. "Ah, the subtle, silent type. I like a challenge. First time in Vegas?"
I nodded, glancing briefly away from his intense brown-eyed stare. Something about the way he looked at me made me feel…on edge. Hostile. Cold.
He arched a brow, seeming amused by my flustered response. "Ah, thought so. You've got that wide-eyed look about you." He chuckled. "Don't worry. I don't bite. Unless you ask nicely, that is." He winked.
My eyebrow flicked up, and I just looked at him.
Why was this so awkward? Why did I feel nothing but… Oh, horns' sake, I was still staring at him!
It wasn't that I hated flirting or pickup lines. Honestly, I admired anyone who had the guts to pull out a cheesy one-linerand keep a smile on their face, but that wasn't me, and this dude's flirtations left me cold as the last frozen margarita. He was just wrong. All of him. From the top of his curly blond head to the soles of his polished black dress shoes.
"I'm messing with you." He chuckled after a too-long awkward pause on my end. "Couldn't resist teasing such a pretty girl, but hey, at least I got you to crack a smile."
I pressed my lips together, wondering whether I had involuntarily smiled to be polite. Who even knew? My foggy brain screeched at me to leave.
"I, uh, I should get back to my friend," I mumbled, standing and then edging away from him.
That had been painful.
This was why I would always be alone.
I wandered to a colorful drinks vendor, ordered another frozen spicy margarita, and sipped it as I walked down the too-bright hall. The juxtaposed flavors flowed over my tongue, but it all dulled inside me.
Little round lights brightened and flared to the left as someone struck a jackpot. Happy screams followed.
Yay. Someone was having a good night.
I took another long sip. My mouth tasted like oversweet strawberries and tequila with a hint of habanero. I pulled the soft grey triceratops hood up over my head. Time to go—who knew where?
Did it even matter?
I didn't want to go back to my room. It was a bit of a walk. Better than an Uber, cost wise. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the margaritas. Especially not the second. But right now I didn’t care.
With the alcohol swirling in my blood, I just wandered. Wandered like I did more and more. Searching for something that probably didn’t exist.
Eventually, I found myself in one of the gardens, one with dual fishponds, all quiet and serene.
How did I get in here? Not really sure. Again, did it matter? Nope.
All I knew was that one minute I was walking down the hall, and the next I was leaning against the clear plastic separator with the silver railing and overlooking one of the two koi ponds.
The water looked so peaceful. So tempting.
Not that I was drunk enough to jump in.
No. It’d been a long time since I was that drunk.
But it was nice to be in the shadow of a desert willow with its pale leaves and wiry branches. The waning gibbous moon didn’t provide much illumination. The lights of the casinos and hotels drowned out the natural starlight and moonlight.
It was even bright enough to read the little sign that announced they had just rearranged the koi exhibit and provided additional enrichment options for the fish.
Good for them.
I sighed and pressed my hands to my forehead, the alcohol not doing a good enough job of numbing my mind or the emotions that twisted through me.
Good as it was to see Evera, part of me wished I hadn’t come to Vegas. I missed the ocean. I missed the wind in my hair. The richness of starlight. The wholeness of a home I had yet to find. For years, I'd been looking for something I'd never been able to put into words. How messed up was it that I always felt so wrong that not even the night sky felt right when I looked up at it?
