Cupid & The Cursed Cup (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 11

Waverly paused, knowing what was currently happening in her life was linked to this mysterious stranger, who plucked her from death, made sure she was safe, killed those who came after her. "Then I met you," she replied. "Don't get me wrong, you fascinate me, but, this is not who I am. I'm not some action hero. I'm Waverly Earp, journalist at the Mercury, who..."

"Who happens to have a crush on a demigod. I know, can't be helped. I am exceedingly moreish."

"Will you stop saying that? If you weren't so arrogant I'd..."

"Go on. I'm intrigued to know what you'd do to me."

Waverly howled, her right foot lifting slightly, unable to have a serious conversation with the person sitting on her couch. "I'm going to bed. Don't you dare do that tent thing. I'm warning you."

"Fine. I won't do that tent thing."

Nicole could hear Waverly banging around upstairs, talking to herself, annoyed she could no longer control things. She lay on the couch, arms behind her head, waiting for it to go silent, closing her eyes. Waverly was now in bed, her phone out, checking for messages from Wynonna. None. Probably busy, or out at a nightclub with the other stars, she thought, sending her a message to say she hoped she was having a great time.

Closing her eyes, her mind was still churning. Too sensible to get involved with a heavy-drinking, possibly insane, extremely good looking demigod, she resigned herself to maybe ringing James at the Mercury to see if he was free for a drink. It's probably because I haven't dated in a while, she thought. And, if anyone is on my radar it would have to be my editor. She wondered if her editor might go for a drink sometime, quickly pushing that thought away, knowing she would never be brave enough to ask.

Music suddenly filled her head, a song she had heard on the radio, a scene emerging, strangers moving past her, some dancing. All gorgeous, dressed in designer clothes, demigods she suspected as she saw eyes glow after taking a sip of something similar to Nan's vodka. She pushed through the gathering, knowing exactly who was creating this new dream world, spying her sitting in a private booth, several scantily-clad companions on either side, dressed in a black tuxedo, bow tie hanging from a white dress shirt.

She saw Nicole's eyes maintaining their gaze as she approached. "You're very naughty."

"You said no tents. Is this less intense for you? Would you like a drink? I have chilled champagne."

"How am I supposed to drink champagne? Nice outfit by the way. Very you."

"Why thank you, Waverly Earp," Nicole replied, filling two glasses, handing one to her. "I hope you don't mind but I chose your outfit for you."

Waverly looked down at the garment she had on. "Purple's my favourite colour."

"I know," Nicole raised her glass. "To your health. To the gods who made us."

Waverly took a sip. "I can taste it. I can actually taste it."

Nicole downed her drink, standing, Waverly taking in her form in an extremely well-fitted suit. "Wow, still an alcoholic, even in my dreams."

"And, you're still as alluring in mine," Nicole replied, placing her empty glass down.

"You mean, you're having the same dream? Is this how it works?"

"Pretty much. Shall we." Nicole held out a hand, escorting Waverly back towards the dancefloor. "Haven't danced in a while, I maybe rusty. You might have to show me how it's done."

Waverly felt the tingle through her body as Nicole placed her hands on the small of her back. "I...I'm not that good a dancer. Is it hot in here?"

"You know, I don't usually bring anyone here. But, you're different."