Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
“You’re a demon?” she asks.
“One hundred percent accurate,” Alex speaks for Timber. “And I’m a male siren. I’ve been known to—”
Hope elbows him.
“What?” He blinks.
“It’s a family joke,” Tarek pipes up. “Right, Horus?”
“It’s a hilarious one too,” I deadpan. “One where this guy crossed an entire desert in nothing but a diaper and his will to live. Woke up with sand in every crevice, lost his memory, probably shit his pants, sound accurate Timber?”
I can feel his irritation.
He wants to punch me.
Hey, it’s been over a thousand years since I could tease the god of the underworld, and it’s deserved when it comes to this guy. Plus, he did abandon me for true love, as if that’s something special.
Maybe I’ve lived too long.
Timber holds up a finger. “First, I wasn’t in a diaper—“
Cassius leans forward. “Actually, ancient Egyptians used to wear a clothlike…” He reads the room and clears his throat. “It’s my birthday.”
Timber glares. “Forgiven.”
“Are these your friends?” Kit laughs.
“Family.” Timber eyes me up and down. “Can’t you see the resemblance in the good looks, the bright blond hair, and those eyes?”
She shrugs. “Sure?” She ignores the pull of all the immortals as if they have zero effect on her and turns to me. “Some guy puked in the men’s restroom then actually did shit his pants since he clearly didn’t have an Egyptian diaper on him. Can you send someone to clean it up?”
“Not it,” Tarek says quickly.
Timber’s stare is wicked. “I’m the owner of the club, so…”
“We have other waiters,” I point out.
Timber grabs me by the shoulders and points me toward the bathroom, whispering in my ear. “Yes, but Ted has trouble tying his shoes and would probably make the situation worse. You, however, have special abilities, so just pop right in there, do a little flick, and come back.”
“Why does it feel like Satan’s sitting on my shoulder?” I whisper so only he can hear. “And you know we aren’t supposed to use our powers flippantly.”
Timber slaps me on the ass. “Go, I believe in you.”
I roll my eyes and walk by Cassius. “He’s your problem now.”
Cassius keeps sipping his drink like he’s well aware that Timber’s his problem.
“But happy birthday,” I feel the need to add.
He grumbles something about being too old to be in a club while Timber joins Tarek behind the bar.
Kit’s nowhere to be seen when I gain enough courage to go to the men’s restroom. I’ve fought wars. I’ve faced gods. I’ve seen kingdoms rise and fall. And I still don’t feel prepared for what’s behind that metal door.
I take a deep breath and cautiously venture into the bathroom. The stench is so horrible that I almost gag. I can see puke and all the rest of the darkness near the third toilet.
There’s a guy lying on the tile floor groaning.
Yeah, well, it’s not a fun moment for me either. For being a club, the bathrooms are really nice, with black and white checkered floors, black walls, and mirrors that, if you look at them long enough, hold you captive until a demon can come in and feed on you.
That was Timber’s special touch before he actually gained his soul back, though he still keeps them in place so he can control and separate the bad demons from the good.
They think they’re about to have a snack all before he judges them and sends them into the underworld.
“Get up,” I bark. The guy has puke crusted on his green band T-shirt and can barely keep his eyes open. At least he has pants on.
He ignores me and groans into his hands. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Yeah.” I look around the bathroom. “Clearly, your intention was to make it into the toilet, not beside it.”
“Not that,” he yells, his eyes flashing red. “She doesn’t remember me! He promised! Damn it!” He starts banging his head back. “He said all I had to do was give it to her, but she still doesn’t remember me!”
Bartender, and now therapist. Have I mentioned I’m stuck in this timeline? Should I remind myself how strange humans are? The man is sitting in his own filth, talking about a woman who doesn’t remember him.
I tap my fingertips on the sink and then cross my arms. “There are plenty of hum—women.” I correct myself. “Around the dimensions—earth—planet—” Shit. “Seattle.” There that’s better. “Just be patient and sober up.”
A laugh bubbles out of him, and he starts to tug at his hair before pounding the back of his head against the black brick wall. “Nobody”—pound, pound, pound—“Will be like Cat.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re upset about a missing cat?”
“Are you an idiot?” He glares at me. “Her name was Cat.”
“Was she a cat?” I’m so confused.
“You’re dumb for an adult.”
“And you’re sitting in your own feces. I think I win this one. Now get up so I can clean you up and send you on your way.”