Page 86 of King’s Kismet

I grinned at his misunderstanding, nodding as he caught back up to the conversation.

“No,” he dryly responded. “Just no. Bay, let’s find Blaire and Grim and get the fuck out of here before we get dragged into any more weird shit.”

Baylor tipped his head at me. “Tag. You’re it. I’m signing out. Have fun taking care of Briggs. He’ll run if you don’t put a leash on him.”

I groaned when I realized my fae was missing from the VIP section. If anyone needed a leash, it was him.

“York?” I called over my shoulder, catching him yanking his hands away from my ass. “Can you find Vaughn?”

“He’s with Novak.”

“That doesn’t ease my worry at all. They could be—”

“Having orgasms in the DJ booth?” My druid titled his head down, giving me a pointed look. “Yeah. Some of us noticed.”

I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t trying to hide from you.”

As we stepped into the roped-off section, Ebony passed Jack four dark brown bottles with green labels. Grim shook his head at my brother but said nothing about his to-go order.

I knew exactly what they were, and I wasn’t going to let him make that mistake again without a warning.

“Are you sure you want four? That’s a bit much to drink at once, unless you’re all doing it together?”

Jack shrugged his right shoulder, juggling the bottles in his left hand. “Maybe. But Grim is undecided.”

“No, Grim is not undecided. I’m not doing it.” The reaper gave me a wide-eyed look. “I won’t do it again. Tell him how bad it was.”

“That is worse than pixie shit,” Vaughn grumbled, causing all of us to turn our attention to him. “What?”

“What do you know about pixie shit?” Hestos asked, a grin lifting his lips.

“That it sucks,” my fae remarked.

Onyx giggled at him. “Is it worth trying?”

“Fuck no,” Vaughn answered quickly. “I’d rather snort the royallest pixies’ freshest shit than drink the cappa root beer again.”

I blinked at his outburst. “Are you good, Fae? No one needs to snort anything. Half of us don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“No.” He exaggerated the word as he folded his arms over his chest. “That was the most insane trip of my life.”

“You trip often?” Zolren inquired, surprise raising his brow.

“Often enough to know,” Vaughn mumbled, grimacing.

Jack slapped his shoulder. “Cappa root beer is for lightweights, Fae. You just have to know how much to drink.”

“Yeah.” I snorted, then cleared my throat when Vaughn glared at me. “Baby sips. Not an entire canteen’s worth. You drank enough for all of us to hallucinate for the rest of the night.”

“I saw the building melt,” he informed us, leaning in as he continued, “That’s not normal.”

“Neither were you,” Stone commented. “You called a bowl of fruit prophets. But you still listened to the apples predict a future apocalypse.”

“And you fell off a hellhound,” Grim pointed out. “While he was moving, but also while he was standing still.”

I cackled. “Helios was being so gentle with you, too.”

“Fuck all of you.” Vaughn scoffed. “It was not funny.”