Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

120. The Party, Take Two

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Spring had arrived, and with it came both the warmer weather and frequent showers, turning the entire Pride ring into a sauna for nearly a straight month. Fortunately, the rain had begun to let up by the time Charlie's party rolled around, and Striker had just come home from a job the day before . . . and fortunately, we hadn't tired ourselves out too much when he came back.

I dressed a bit more casual for this party: a black form-fitting top with a plunging neckline and dark skinny jeans—and I didn't realize until we were almost out the door that Striker was also wearing a black (form-fitting) shirt and dark blue jeans. He had mentioned one of us changing clothes when I brought it up, but I simply waved my hand in dismissal, telling him I thought it was amusing that we'd be "twinsies" for the night.

We bus-hopped to the Pentagram, finally reaching the hotel about forty-five minutes after we left my apartment, and we entered the front doors and walked through the lobby to the already noisy banquet hall.

"I just know I'm gonna have a headache by the time the night's over," Striker remarked once we were in the midst of the loud music and flashing lights.

I spotted the small bar set up near the open double doors and took his hand. "Here, honey, I found your sanctuary for tonight."

Husk had just turned around from putting up a bottle of liquor when he noticed me and Striker approaching the bar, and he flashed me a small smile. "And here I was thinkin' you weren't gonna make it."

I returned the smile and propped my elbows on the counter. "What, and pass up the chance to see Angel get hammered and make an ass of himself?"

"You should know by now that you don't need a special occasion to see that," he quipped. His dark eyes travelled up to the imp beside me. "But I am a little surprised to see you here. I didn't peg you for the partyin' type."

"I ain't," Striker replied, partly encircling my frame with his tail. "Just here to fend off any creeps."

Husk nodded in understanding, tossing his dish towel over his shoulder. "Can I get you two anything?"

"Some Beelzejuice for me," I said, glancing up at Striker and rolling my shoulders. "I need to loosen up a little bit before Angel finds me and pulls me onto the dance floor."

Striker smirked at me, then said to Husk, "Whiskey, straight."

After Husk fixed our drinks, I scanned the banquet hall for anyone I knew, almost spitting out a sip when I saw a certain feathered head peeking out from the crowd of demons.

"Oh, shit—Stolas made it!" I gave Striker a quick peck on the cheek before telling him, "I'm off to socialize. I'll be back, hon."

I scurried off in Stolas' direction, weaving through the various groups of both sinners and hellborn until I reached the opposite end of the banquet hall. Taking another gulp of my drink, I tracked down my friend and called after him, "Stolas!"

Stolas turned his head a full 180 degrees to look back at me, an excited smile crawling up his face when he saw me. "(Y/N)!" He whirled around and walked toward me, bending down to wrap a slender arm around my frame. "How have you been, my dear? I haven't seen you in nearly a month."

"I've been good," I answered. "I'm a little surprised to see you here. I would've thought you'd be busy with divorce proceedings again."

Stolas glanced over his shoulder at someone. "Oh, (Y/N)," he said. "There's someone I would like you to meet."

Stolas nudged an imp beside him to greet me. He was relatively tall for an imp, about my height, with two large horns that curled back behind his bald head, and he wore a rather irate scowl that insinuated he did not want to be here.