Chương 53: B2, Chapter 7: Just Perfectly Innocent Heavy Drinking

The candle lanterns had burned low while we talked, throwing more shadow than light across the bar. I'd made two of each cocktail—one for each of us—and suddenly the spread looked daunting, like little monuments to bad ideas. Nothing good ever came of drinking late with an attractive young coworker. But I needed to test cocktails, right? And it wasn't like I was going to waste perfectly good ingredients. I raised my glass. Immediately, her deep purple hand flashed out, snatching the full coupe closest to her.

In one fell swoop, she brought it just below her face. Based on the speed of her movement, I expected the contents to splash everywhere. They didn't. Her full lips parted, pausing half an inch from her open mouth. A soft, dark tongue with a curiously forked tip slid across her top teeth. She looked up at me under heavy eyelashes.

"May I?"

"Sure, but start with this one on the end." She was holding one with orange peel and spices. I pointed at the coupe containing the regular, unmodified drink—the same one as I held. My hope was that it would be like the bastard child of a Richmond gimlet and a daiquiri. The genetics were strong. It should taste great. My only worry was that the vegetal mint wouldn't play as well with rich, spicy rum as it did with gin. Shivai gave me a pleading expression.

"Why that one? It's the boring one, right?"

"Not boring. It's still exciting—it's just a little simpler. Sometimes simple is good. Besides, we need a control group. Something to measure the others against to see if adding complications is even worth it."

"Fine." She slowly lowered her glass, careful not to spill. Her speed was glacial compared to before. When she snatched the second one, at least this time I could actually make sense of the blur of her hand. Without any hesitation, she brought it to her lips and took a sip. I watched with professional interest, gauging her reaction. You can tell a lot about the success of a cocktail from the expression someone makes after their first sip. She didn't smile, but her eyes grew wide.

She followed her first sip with a quick second, which she savored for a few seconds longer.

"Okay, wow. This is really good. Sorry for saying it was boring."

"You'd be surprised. Sometimes the best things in life aren't the flashiest—they're just the things that never let you down." She gave me an up-down, then smirked.

"Are you talking about drinks, or about yourself?" Any laugh can be a self-deprecating laugh if you do it at the right time.

"I'm sure I've let down plenty of people. And if you'd seen my clothes when I first arrived in town, you'd have thought I was very flashy."

"How's that?"

"Ever heard of denim? Jeans and a T-shirt? Birkenstocks?" She screwed up her face and frowned.

"Um, no. What are you, from the Far Shores or something?"

"Or something. A bit farther off than that."

"Me too."

"Far Shores? Or farther?"

"Farther, I think." For a second, her gaze went blank, like she could see through walls into the distance, back wherever she came from. Something about the way she said it made me think there was more to it than she was ready to tell. Not like that was going to stop my curiosity, though.

"Running from something?" She stiffened.

"I'm doing my best to stay here, aren't I?"

"Look, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. But if you're comfortable, I'd love to hear about it."

"Oh, nobody wants to hear that." She swigged the rest of her cocktail with finality, like finishing it would put an end to the conversation.

"Really, I just spent a lot of time on the road. Never had a stable situation like you, I'm sure." I barked out a laugh, only catching myself when I realized I might wake some guests.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"You're right, you know. I've had a lot of stability in my life." I stared thoughtfully into the cloudy brown cocktail, wondering if I could trust Shivai. Down the hatch.

"And in my last life, too."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm, uh, Reborn."

"Oh, that? Yeah. That's the rumor." This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. I set the glass down and peered at her through the dim candlelight. She looked… inscrutable.

"So, you already knew?"

"It's what I heard. I didn't exactly follow up on it. Should I have?"

"If you were curious, yeah." Still inscrutable. Maybe more so. Her focus flicked to the array of cocktails waiting in front of us, then reluctantly back to me.

"I'm not used to doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Asking about people if I don't plan to use what I learn against them somehow. All my life, the purpose of getting to know someone has been to take advantage of them." She shrugged, twisting her lips into a pout.

"Doesn't feel right, I guess. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Huh."

"You're nice. I like it here. Oh, and you make tasty drinks. I'd rather not go back to stealing backwoods rotgut from lecherous market vendors who think just because I'm a succubus, that I want to flash some extra skin for a meager flaskful." Again, her hand snaked out like a viper striking its prey. Delicate fingers clasped around the stem of another coupe, this one filled with the cacao version. Instead of a small sip, she took a gulp, then let out a loud sigh and smacked her lips.

Every sentence reminded me that Shivai was on Lady Talia's bad side for a reason. Around here, she was a known thief. Perhaps she'd done more, yet avoided getting caught. Without a doubt, she'd charmed a few folks to get what she needed. Maybe it was just for survival, but it still worried me. Then again, would I actually condemn someone just for stealing bread to eat? Shivai slurped another big sip and laid her head back in rapture. Her pulse beat visibly in the smooth purple lines of her slender neck.

"Such. Tasty. Drinks."

"Thanks. See? You don't need to charm anyone to make them want to buy more."

"No kidding. And is that cacao in there? This version mostly tastes the same, but it's a bit deeper and richer."

"Richer how?" She scoffed, laughing and shaking her head. She even got her finger in on the action, wagging it at me like a teacher telling a toddler to stop putting so many toy blocks in his mouth.

"Oh no, you scoundrel. I know what you're doing!"

"And what's that?"

"You're making me do all the work! Come on and have a drink with me. I promise I won't try to… get to know you better."

"You mean take advantage of me?" She winked. Before that, I didn't think she would. After, though? Eh, whatever. And maybe she was right. It was rude to let a girl—no, a friend and a coworker—drink alone. I snagged the control glass and took a sip, noting its crisp finish. Almost exactly like a daiquiri, but with enough mint to keep things interesting. The additional tartness left me wanting more. Already, I'd made up my mind. We'd debut with this version.

Whichever standouts remained of the other experimental drinks, we'd release in the coming months as we rotated the menu. It would give us time to make infusions, too, since those would be much easier to work with than tossing in raw spices. I lost track of time as the two of us chatted, stretching the night into the early morning hours. Somewhere along the line, I'd broken down and made us an extra cocktail each using a dash of bitters. (It was fine.) Mostly, we talked shop.

Vaguely, she mentioned traveling the coast. Yet every time I pushed to hear more, she demurred.

"Don't want to tell me your tragic backstory?"

"It's more like a checkered past." A candle lantern flickered and died, sending up a tiny curl of gray smoke. An assortment of finished coupes stood arrayed haphazardly on the bar in front of us, getting drier and stickier with each passing minute. By the time I felt ready to stand up from my spot at the bar, the room had started to spin. Not only that, but somewhere along the way our two stools had gotten dangerously close to each other.

Our shoulders and elbows rubbed together, the light friction between us feeling charged enough to spark with static electricity. Her spaded tail had ceased waving slowly behind her and settled gently around my rear, just close enough to touch, but not so close that it felt like a heated cuddle. When had that happened? Suddenly, my throat felt tight. Was this sudden closeness with Shivai from her succubus charm ability? Was it from the four cocktails I'd had, which actually totalled six or seven shots?

Or was I simply slipping into my old ways, getting swept up in the moment with a pretty girl I barely knew? I scratched the back of my head, thinking about how to call it a night without making things any more awkward.

"It's late. I should probably head in. I wouldn't want to keep Wynnie waiting," I said.

"You two are sweet together. Really. Tell her I'm sorry about charming your customers, and I'll keep it in check."

"Thanks. I will." She knew just what to say to calm the anxiety building in my chest. In a roleplaying game, she'd have been an incredible bard. Or, judging by the quickness of her hands with that cocktail grab earlier, a dangerous rogue. The genuine tenor of her voice put me at ease. Her tail, her touch—they were just comfort. This was normal between service industry workers. I let my relaxed smile return. After-hours bonding between coworkers was the glue that kept a restaurant business running.

Without it, things got tense and boiled over. The moon disappeared from view through the window, now higher in the sky. All that was left in the bar were the dim shadows it cast from its overhead glow, rising and falling in intensity as clouds obscured it. The flickering candle lanterns set a muted atmosphere as well. I adjusted my seat, about to dismount from the stool, when she suddenly tightened her tail around me, holding me fast but gently. Her face drew closer to mine, and my breath caught in my throat.

Was she about to kiss me? Her sultry whisper tickled my ear.

"You know, that dragonkin is teaching you to handle a scenario you should never be in."

"Uh, how do you mean?"

"You shouldn't train for a duel."

"Right. I'm not. And no sword fights for me if I can help it."

"But you should still learn to handle a weapon. Knife fights are easy to win when the other person doesn't know they're in one." She pulled back just enough to make meaningful eye contact, blinking slowly at me like a cat deciding whether it trusts you.

"The blade they don't see coming is the one that cuts deepest. Know what I mean?" I balked.

"You want to teach me to stab someone in the back?"

"See? I knew you were more than just a pretty face. I can teach you, you know. Concealing a blade, getting someone to let their guard down, capitalizing on the element of surprise." She winked.

"You're more likely to get what you want if you just go for it without waiting." I swallowed hard. Why did it always feel like conversations with Shivai were laced with subtext more potent than a rogue's poison? Then again, I wanted to learn anything that could help keep me and the things I loved safe.

"Sure. I'm down to learn if you want to teach me."

"Great! It's a date." I looked at her in surprise. A slight grin spread across her face, revealing two sharp canines that looked as sinister as they were beautiful. Then, before I could extricate myself for good, she leaned in again, fast as lightning. I didn't even have time to react. A soft, sensual kiss landed just at my neck, right below my earlobe. A shiver ran down my spine.

And with that, she hopped down from her barstool without a sound and slipped back through the door to the small room we'd set up for her.

"Dammit," I muttered to myself. I should've seen that coming. But at least she walked the walk. She'd lulled me into a false sense of security, then struck when I least expected it. Perhaps I really could learn something from her. Although we'd need to talk about the date thing. Cleanup could wait until morning. It was long past time for me to turn in. Yet as I trudged quietly back to Wynnie's bedroom, one thought raced repeatedly through my mind. What was I going to tell her?