Page 5 of A Drink of Destiny
The fog drags along my skin, dampening me and my dress as I wind between the trees looking for whatever little air pocket that might lead me back to the world I know. Sometimes I see Topher. I guess he goes by Tops to everyone else. I try to remember that, but I forget a lot of things these days. He’s so damn angry at me. I guess he has that right. Even now I hold his beating heart in my hand. It pumps an endless supply of blood and leaves a trail for Sharon to follow. That’s how she always finds me. I think we’re in the Pit but I can’t find Frost. I can’t find the dragon who drags all the souls in need of agood talking to here. If I could, perhaps he could put me on Earthside. Maybe he’d kick Sharon out too because she’s alive. We’re not like Topher and Chard and Jon. We’re alive but we’re here.
“Come have tea, Annila,” Sharon calls for me.
I’ve forgotten what I was looking for again. I’ll try later. There’s always later.
Chapter Six
Mori
Pierce’s Family Estate
I slid behind the wheel of my car with a stinging jaw and tears threatening to brim over.
“Gotta get it together before we go home. Preston will lose his fucking shit,”my wolf said.
The furry guy was right. Hell, I was close to losing my shit. He’d fucking slapped me. No warning. No nothing. He just fucking slapped me. Then he ran straight into his mate. No thank you. No nothing. Not that he knew what I was up to. Would he even put it together later? Did I want him to? What was I supposed to say? Some dead wolf told me to dump a drink on you?
I made to put the key in the ignition and my vision blurred double. How hard had that damn vampire slapped me? I was lucky he didn’t ball up his fist and really knock my lights out. Dern had another thing coming if he thought I’d regularly do him favors like this one. No thank you.
My vision blurred over, tripling the steering wheel in front of me. Then it all went black. I cursed under my breath even before the cold kitchen floor materialized under my back. I let out a long, slow sigh and bit the inside of my cheek so that I didn’t cuss Dern out. Even over here inside his Other World kitchen my face ached as if the vampire slapped my very soul.
“You got the wrong one,” Dern said.
That’s when I opened my eyes.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” I said, springing to my feet fighting mad.
Dern’s mate, an alpha phoenix named, Ormund, slid between us as if he materialized out of the air itself. Where had the bird been hiding? In the damn teapot?
“Mori, I like you, but if you put one finger on my mate, I’ll give you at least one bruise that will follow you around for years,” the bird man said, his voice dropping a few octaves lower into an almost growl.
“It’s not my fault,” Dern said, walking over and taking his usual spot at his kitchen table.
Ormund reached behind himself and pulled out my chair. I sat down because the dead bird had a few hundred pounds on me and I hadn’t had much practice at fighting dead men with spells.
“Yet,”my wolf added into my thoughts.
“I did what you said and that bastard responding to Raiel! The shirt had the hole in it and everything!” I threw up my hands as Ormund put the kettle on.
I wasn’t drinking any tea that came from this kitchen ever again, but I guess it gave the asshole something to do while his mate blamed me for following instructions.
“It wasn’t his shirt, was it?” Dern shrugged.
“Well, I’m not going back there. Maybe ever again. I dumped my drink on a vampire.”
“I saw that. You could’ve been slyer about it. You just literally did it. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It was great to watch. Better than anything I ever watched on television but that’s not how I expected you to go about it.”
“Who then?” I growled.
The little hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my wolf’s muscles coiled ready to pounce.
“Well, it’s like I said, not him,” Dern leaned back in his chair, checking out Ormund as he waited for the kettle to whistle.
“And what? You’re not going to tell me who it was supposed to be? He was talking about how a dragon had already spilled on him and---”
“So, it’s the bartender? Not Raiel. The other one. Derk or Derek or whoever?” I asked him.
“No, it’s not him either,” Dern sighed. “I don’t remember you being this frustrating when I was alive,” he sighed.
