Sweet Evil - Page 95/110

My mouth had gone dry. I took the image of sweet thirteen-year-old Marna and tucked it into the back of my mind. Right now, I could not afford to think about anything that would make me want to bawl. Marna hugged me, rubbing the silky material of my dress on my back.

“So... that girl you were dancing with?” Marna shifted on her heels, not continuing.

“That’s Veronica,” I said, swiping under my eyes one last time. “Do you see a bond with her and Jay?”

“No, but they weren’t standing close enough. Come on, let’s go back in.”

My hands stung as we left the bathroom, a reminder of things to come. Entering the ballroom, Ginger left us to begin working, but Marna stood with me. The demons hadn’t shown yet.

I was anxious to use Marna’s skill to see what was up with my two friends. We spotted them at the deejay booth. Jay had the earphones around his neck, and he leaned on his forearms to watch Veronica. She was being her usual flirty self, making big hand gestures as she talked.

Marna crossed her arms, frowning.

“Uh-oh, what’s wrong?”

At the sound of my question she snapped out of it, uncrossing her arms and shrugging.

“Nothing, there’re just a lot more people here now. The bonds can get... fuddled.”

“So you can’t see anything?”

“They’re... attracted.” Well, darn, was that it? You didn’t need superhuman bond-seeing capabilities to know they were attracted. I was hoping for something more.

“We’ll have a drink together later,” she said to me, and with a wink she headed back to her sister. I went to the deejay booth and stood there for a moment, not wanting to interrupt. Jay and Veronica were so absorbed in their talk they didn’t notice me. Jay studied her and she seemed to blossom under his attention. Only attraction? Really?

Veronica turned, startled to see me, and laughed.

“Oh, my gosh, this boy is too much.” She reached up to smack at his arm, but he grabbed her hand, and when they looked at each other... badda bing. Pink. A tinge of dark fuchsia swam up between their auras as they slowly pulled their hands apart. Jay and Veronica’s guardian angels regarded each other with a nod, pleased.

I wanted to cheer, but instead grabbed my water from the ledge, giving myself an excuse to look away. As I sipped, I saw Marna by a table, watching. She smiled at me, but it was more forced than usual. Then the smile fell away and she stiffened.

I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there. Right behind me. The whisperers had arrived, bringing with them a feeling of spiders crawling up my back. I gathered my wits and strode away from my two friends and their sweet moment. I’d never felt more separate from them.

I knew what I had to do. I went straight to the bar.

As I walked through the crowd, I forced myself not to run, screaming, from the sensation that an ax murderer was stalking behind me. The urge to turn and gauge the danger was strong, but not as strong as my fear of what I’d actually see.

I got to the bar as a couple was walking away with their drinks. The bartender looked me over, pushing thick blond hair off his forehead. My heart still pounded with unhealthy force.

“What can I get you?” he asked, leaning on the bar top toward me.

I pondered the row of beer bottles on display and pointed to a light one. His eyes went to my wristband.

“You don’t look twenty-one,” he said in a friendly way, popping off the cap.

“Yeah, I know.” I accepted the cold bottle he offered. Then I fished a bill out of the small black purse flung across my body, resting against my hip.

I wondered whether the whisperers were watching.

“Thanks. No change,” I said, handing it over. He took it, but didn’t move away from me.

I felt like I should make small talk with the bartender. He also appeared to be thinking of something to say.

“He’s thinking of inviting you to his room.” A deathly chill zipped jaggedly up my spine at the sound of the scratchy voice in my head. Going with my first instinct, I tipped the bottle up and took a long drink of it. Yech. I didn’t like the taste of beer, but at least it didn’t burn like fire. The demon laughed in my ear and it seemed to echo though my skull.

“He likes the look of your lips on that drink. Do it again.”

Sick, sick, sick. I wanted to scream at it to get out of my head. I lifted my chin and drank, not stopping until the bottle was empty. The guy stared at me with a red flurry of lust surrounding him. He picked up the empty bottle and chuckled, tossing it in the wastebasket and pulling a new one from the cooler.

“That was beautiful,” he said. “Here. This one’s on me. I’m Trevor, by the way.”

I accepted it and managed not to recoil at the disgusting chatter of the demon in my ear, telling me to keep going as it sidled away from me, over to the bartender, and circled him.

Normally, two single people flirting was not a bad thing. But this demon wanted me to make Trevor stumble, to make him focus on the physical and ultimately suffer. It wanted the bartender to burn with lust. It wanted him to screw up on his job. The whisperer made something as innocent as flirting feel wrong. I knew it was time for me to say something to Trevor, but my eyes started to sting, threatening tears. Do not get emotional!

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” Trevor said. “Shiny.”

The demon chortled. “Romeo needs to work on his pickup lines. Boring.”

“Thanks, I’m Anna.” I needed to flirt. I lifted the corners of my mouth and moved some hair forward with a flip of my hand. “Are you working here all night?”