laughing as he spoke, and then snorted, which normally I find as a cute quality in a guy. This time his voice sounded like mocking. “So you know.” He gestured down at the empty shot glass. “That one, I’m pretty sure was straight Jim Beam.” Michael’s dwindling laughter came to a sudden stop, and he took on a more serious look. “Can I give you some fatherly advice?”
I shrugged and winked, displaying indifference. I was starting to feel flirty, an effect from the sudden rush of sleep elixir. Looking away from him, I noticed Mom’s Coach purse was nowhere on the floor.
My eyelids fluttered. I was feeling a good buzz, but wouldn’t say drunk, yet. I kicked out and glanced around for the purse. Not finding it, I slumped back in the seat. Michael bent down and magically pulled it out from under his chair. I held his actions in question. Leisurely looking at him through mascara lashes, I sighed trying to keep certain thoughts in order. The resulting words were spoken with a slight slur. “Mike, can I call you Mike? Mike, may I ask a personal question? It’s a big one. Do you think you can handle it? I mean, you’re so straightforward with me, figured you wouldn’t mind a few more answers… uh, questions?” Yup, I was feeling it, but before I completely lost my sanity, I needed at least one answer.
He smirked, realizing I had bought a one-way ticket for the smashed express. Michael’s expression spoke volumes. He had nothing to fear from me and my mundane questions.
I took that chance to use some reverse psychology. Scooting the chair closer to him, I maneuvered one knee in between his legs, to create more of an intimate space. Feeling possessed, I found myself creeping up his hard frame, then cupping a hand to his ear. I whispered, “What are you, exactly? You know.” I traced a finger up his leg to get his attention. “Michael, what’s the price to dance with death?”
His body went rigid and his breath caught. “What did you say to me?”
I started laughing in his ear. “I so got you. You thought I was going to fall for one of your lines.” I snorted and rocked back in the chair, placing both hands on my lap and tossing strands of hair back in triumph. Instantly his actions caught me off guard and caused me to sober up a bit.
Clamping down hard on my right wrist, he jerked me toward him. He spoke with his teeth welded shut. Freezing air slithered down my back. “I tire of child sitting. You have no idea who or what I am. Here’s some advice, little Vessel, stay sober and stay pure so I can get back to my real job.” When he let go, I thought I saw flakes of frost where his fingers had touched.
I jumped from the seat as I raised a hand to slap the crap out of him. Instead, I found myself retreating, with one hand still up as a shield. Blackness pulsated through his body, emanating from his head like a shroud or cloak. Blinking several times, the image started to fade. Tomorrow morning it would be a drunken memory.
I made myself break away from his creepy aura. This guy was bad news. Why do the weird ones always find me? I needed to find Tod.
Michael appeared in front of me. Keeping his eyes lowered, he handed the purse back. “Alexcia, I was out of line, I didn’t mean to come on so strong. Sit back down, have another shot, forget what I said before. If you still want your questions answered…” Michael’s words seemed strained as he let the rest of the thought hang in the air.
“I just need to find my boyfriend and maybe get some air.” At that moment, air was a good idea. The clouds rolling through anxious thoughts had turned gray, and I could tell a storm was brewing between us. Twisting from his half committed embrace, I stumbled only to recover methodically putting one foot in front of the other. He yelled over the music, “Don’t go with Tod. You’ll be riding with death and yours will come just as swift.” His reaction was proof this jerk was drunk. I had picked the
I shrugged and winked, displaying indifference. I was starting to feel flirty, an effect from the sudden rush of sleep elixir. Looking away from him, I noticed Mom’s Coach purse was nowhere on the floor.
My eyelids fluttered. I was feeling a good buzz, but wouldn’t say drunk, yet. I kicked out and glanced around for the purse. Not finding it, I slumped back in the seat. Michael bent down and magically pulled it out from under his chair. I held his actions in question. Leisurely looking at him through mascara lashes, I sighed trying to keep certain thoughts in order. The resulting words were spoken with a slight slur. “Mike, can I call you Mike? Mike, may I ask a personal question? It’s a big one. Do you think you can handle it? I mean, you’re so straightforward with me, figured you wouldn’t mind a few more answers… uh, questions?” Yup, I was feeling it, but before I completely lost my sanity, I needed at least one answer.
He smirked, realizing I had bought a one-way ticket for the smashed express. Michael’s expression spoke volumes. He had nothing to fear from me and my mundane questions.
I took that chance to use some reverse psychology. Scooting the chair closer to him, I maneuvered one knee in between his legs, to create more of an intimate space. Feeling possessed, I found myself creeping up his hard frame, then cupping a hand to his ear. I whispered, “What are you, exactly? You know.” I traced a finger up his leg to get his attention. “Michael, what’s the price to dance with death?”
His body went rigid and his breath caught. “What did you say to me?”
I started laughing in his ear. “I so got you. You thought I was going to fall for one of your lines.” I snorted and rocked back in the chair, placing both hands on my lap and tossing strands of hair back in triumph. Instantly his actions caught me off guard and caused me to sober up a bit.
Clamping down hard on my right wrist, he jerked me toward him. He spoke with his teeth welded shut. Freezing air slithered down my back. “I tire of child sitting. You have no idea who or what I am. Here’s some advice, little Vessel, stay sober and stay pure so I can get back to my real job.” When he let go, I thought I saw flakes of frost where his fingers had touched.
I jumped from the seat as I raised a hand to slap the crap out of him. Instead, I found myself retreating, with one hand still up as a shield. Blackness pulsated through his body, emanating from his head like a shroud or cloak. Blinking several times, the image started to fade. Tomorrow morning it would be a drunken memory.
I made myself break away from his creepy aura. This guy was bad news. Why do the weird ones always find me? I needed to find Tod.
Michael appeared in front of me. Keeping his eyes lowered, he handed the purse back. “Alexcia, I was out of line, I didn’t mean to come on so strong. Sit back down, have another shot, forget what I said before. If you still want your questions answered…” Michael’s words seemed strained as he let the rest of the thought hang in the air.
“I just need to find my boyfriend and maybe get some air.” At that moment, air was a good idea. The clouds rolling through anxious thoughts had turned gray, and I could tell a storm was brewing between us. Twisting from his half committed embrace, I stumbled only to recover methodically putting one foot in front of the other. He yelled over the music, “Don’t go with Tod. You’ll be riding with death and yours will come just as swift.” His reaction was proof this jerk was drunk. I had picked the
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