“Be right with you,” Trevor told him.
I glanced at my watch. Hour one was over. I could have three drinks. Trevor set two golden shots in front of us with a shaker of salt. But no limes. I looked up as he called the other bartender over and tossed him a lime wedge. The other guy grinned and nodded. What were they doing?
“If you girls want your limes, you gotta come and get ’em.” Trevor and the other bartender stood side by side in front of us, balancing lime wedges perpendicularly between their teeth.
Marna laughed, licked her wrist, and shook some salt on the damp skin. No problem. I could do this. I followed suit, salting my wrist, and we both picked up our shot glasses. When we looked at each other to toast, there was a moment of understanding. An apology. An acceptance. A kindred spirit.
We clinked glasses, licked the salt from our skin, threw back the shots, and leaned over the bar. The guys leaned in as well, and I barely registered the people around us whooping over the sound of my heart pounding. I tilted my face and bit the lime from between his teeth without even touching him. But as I took possession of the fruit, he dragged his warm tongue across my bottom lip. The scent of tequila with the sensation of his tongue and the flavor of lime had me pulling away, dizzy with thoughts of Kaidan.
“That was fun.” I almost leaped from my skin at the demon’s sour voice. “Now what?”
“Another shot,” I said to Trevor.
“Tequila?” he asked.
I paused, indecisive. I needed to up the stakes. I took in the faces of the people pressed to the bar around me. There were about ten of us, and many more at our backs. I had a purse full of money. I leaned to the girl next to Marna, who held an empty wine glass.
“Hey, wanna do a shot with us?” I asked her, upbeat.
“Me? Oh, no. I can’t handle liquor, only wine.”
“Aw, come on. It’s New Year’s!” I beamed at her. “I’m buying you one.”
I watched her colors turn from a misty reluctance to an eager orange.
“Okay, but just one!” she said.
“You’re doing a shot?” asked her friend on her other side.
“I want to get shots for everyone at the bar right now,” I told Trevor. His eyebrows flew up.
“Everybody? You know how much that’ll cost?”
“Yep. Don’t worry, I’m good for it.” I winked, my first ever wink at a guy. My skin throbbed with adrenaline.
I took a consensus vote from nearby girls as to what drink we should have. They came up with some shooter I didn’t know. Trevor got busy, lining up a row of at least twenty small tumblers.
The mix of ingredients gave Trevor the opportunity to show off his skills, tossing a bottle up and catching it upside down by the neck as it poured. He did that with several bottles and jugs. Then shake, shake, shake, and pink shooters came to life. I passed them out to the crowd, being met mostly with happy thanks, and having to talk a few people into accepting. It was out of my comfort zone to be a pushy temptress, but with that demon breathing evil air down my back, I pushed those people to take the shots. I’d deal with the guilt later.
Together, twenty shots were lifted in the air as we all whooed. Marna tapped my drink and we tipped them back. It tasted like candy with a bite. The heat of two shots in a row rocked through my system, and I could feel it down to my tingling feet. My whole body begged for another. Trevor ran a hand through his hair and waited for what I’d say next. As the alcohol coursed through me, I struggled to make out his colors and the colors of others around me.
“One more, for the four of us,” I said to Trevor, pointing down the row to the other two girls who we’d befriended in our sweet, evil way. “Surprise us.” He got to work without hesitation. I noted the time on my watch. This would have to be my last drink until almost midnight. I hoped it would be enough.
“Crikey,” I heard Marna mumble as he set the brownish drink in front of us. I hadn’t been paying attention. I expected another shot, because it was in a small tumbler glass, but this appeared to be straight liquor.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Four Horsemen.” Trevor explained: “Jack, Jim, Johnny, and Jose.”
Crikey about covered it.
“Oh, hell, no,” said the girl next to Marna.
“What are you trying to do?” the other girl asked Trevor. “Kill us?”
The other bartender leaned in and interjected, “He’s trying to get you to dance on the bar.”