Page 155 of The Villain We Tempt

I might need professional help.

“Absinthe!”

I startle, yanking myself out of my head and turning toward a girl holding a tray full of bright green shots. She’s dressed in a skimpy black latex cocktail dress and knee-high boots, along with a black cowl, like a medieval executioner’s hood.

Shit, that would make agreatVelvet Villainess costume…

My eyes drop to the neon green shots on her tray. Yes, in lieu of professional help tonight, alcohol will dojust fine.

Arianna shakes her head and declines the absinthe. Fair. Shedidalready put on a hot dress and come out tonight, and besides, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her drink.

I, meanwhile, have zero issues plucking a shot glass from the tray. The rest of the girls follow suit, cheersing before we all knock back the drinks.

Good LORD.

“Well,thatlooked perfectly vile,” Ari grimaces as I make a sickly face.

“Licorice!” I manage to wheeze over the alcohol burn.

“That isnot good,” Lucia gags, then plucks a second shot from the tray.

I pretend not to see Ari’s disapproving look as I grab another one as well and raise my glass alongside Lucia's.

“To us!”

“And FUCK Achilles!” I hear Wren yell-whisper into Yelena’s ear. “In the ass, with a rusty claw hammer!”

Aaand a big piece of the “Yelena being off her game” puzzle falls into place.

You little sneak…

Part of me wants to instantly grill my friend on whatever is going on between her and Achilles Drakos. But it’s obvious from the sour look on Yelena’s face that nowprobablyisn’t the time.

“Youhatelicorice,” Ari mutters as I contemplate the second shot in my hand.

“Yep, sure do. Bottoms up.”

I tap my shot glass to Lucia’s before we both knock back our second helpings of the revolting anise-flavored booze.

Butwow, do I feel my mood improving as the overproof alcohol bleeds into my system. I want to say it’s because it’s helping me resolve the whole “am I angry or am I turned on” issue inside my head. But it’s probably justdullingthat conversation for now.

I mean, I’ll take it.

Still, my mind slowly slinks back into that dark, deviant little place where I imagine him watching me. Where I wonder what he doeswhilehe watches me…

“—totally staring at you.”

“He isnot.”

I frown as I swivel my attention to a grinning Lucia and a red-faced Arianna.

“Wait, who’s staring at you?” I ask Arianna, a slow smile creeping over my face.

“No one,” she sighs. “Lucia’s been reading too many of your smutty books and is now inventing?—”

“Ahem,” our friend snorts. She gestures with her chin past Arianna.

I follow her gaze to the far end of the room, to a huge, elevated stone dais. A massive table draped in black and festooned with flickering candles runs the length of it, looking like the perfectspot for the mad king of this haunted castle to sit and preside over a feast…or an execution.