Page 10 of First Snow

“I don’t feel like playing tonight. You?” Arttu says.

She sighs. “Not really.”

“Hey!” Arrtu waves at the bartender. “Do you have blueberry schnapps?”

She eyes him wearily. “Yes?”

“Four shots, please. Here—” He hands her his bracelet and gestures for Emily to do the same.

“Are we getting drunk?”

“Hell, yes.”

Arttu picks up the shots with a practiced movement and takes a last, rueful look at Faeling, who’s still chatting up the blond demigod. Faeling’s gaze snaps up as if he senses Arttu staring, and their gazes meet. Arttu freezes. Faeling shouldn’t be able to see him properly over the distance and in the dim light, but he stares right at him.

Arttu tears his gaze away and hurries back to Emily. Just great. Why can’t he win Faeling’s trust by getting drunk together and discussing the best way to sell drugs or weapons? If Arttu has to rely on his awkward flirting skills, he probably won’t get anywhere. But these obstacles won’t stop him from trying. Arttu sighs and downs the first shot before Emily even has a chance to take hers.

“Easy,” she says and hurriedly drinks her own shot. She grins. “So, you still deny that crush?”

Arttu shrugs. If he’s going to try and charm Faeling into talking to him, he might as well act as if he’s into the fucker.

“He’s kinda hot, no?”

Emily snorts. “He is. And you can’t be bothered with another Dom?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ha, I know a fanboy when I see one,” Emily says with glee. “I can’t place your accent. From where did you travel to seduce the fabulous Mr. Faeling?”

“You’re being presumptuous again.”

“But I’m not wrong.”

Arttu chuckles. His mission tonight may prove fruitless, but at least Emily’s mood seems to have improved considerably. He can’t be upset about this development, especially since realizing how young Emily is, probably in her early to mid-twenties.

“You’re not wrong,” he relents. “I’m from Helsinki. And how far did you have to travel for your first gig as a Dominatrix?”

Emily’s eyes widen. She tries to hide her shock with a laugh that is too high-pitched to be genuine.

“Rude,” she finally says but visibly deflates. “Am I that obvious?”

“No. It’s just that you’re too young for someone who’s been hanging out in sex clubs for years.”

“You can’t be that much older than me.”

“I’m thirty-six.”

“Oh!” she blushes to the tip of her ears. “Damn, I’m making such a fool of myself.”

“No. But please tell me you’re old enough that I don’t have to feel guilty if we get drunk.”

“Fuck off. I’m twenty-four,” she hesitates. “Do you still want to get drunk?”

Arttu takes a look at the table Faeling occupied, only to find him and the pretty guy he talked to gone. Faeling most probably already invited him to the backstage area. Just great.

“Absolutely. Let’s get drunk,” Arttu says.

Emily almost doubles over laughing at Arttu’s joke, snorting liquor out of her nostrils in the process. Arttu decides that it’s time to call a cab for her. It’s already past two in the morning, but the party is still in full swing.