Fate's Demand (Twisted Fate, Book 3)

Chapter Two

We went to two bars before we were served.

Hidden Springs, which was named after the hot springs hidden in the caves on the outskirts of town, only had five bars to choose from. The first two hadn't accepted my identification and the third, Whiskey's, almost refused. But Suzie, who'd ran back to my room to change into jeans and a tank top before we'd left, had put make-up on in the car while I drove from Rasa's to Hammer Time—don't knock the name. It had the most business in town unless the Navy Club counted, which, of course, it didn't. At least we didn't have to try to fit in at Biker's, which, as the name suggested, was full of bikers, and I didn't own leather.

The bartender at Whiskey's looked at our ID's and opened his mouth to deny us, but then he looked at Suzie. His eyes darted between us and he leaned forward, holding a white bar cloth in one hand as he gripped the edge of the counter separating us. "What'll it be?"

Seriously? Wow. Okay, so I looked like I was twelve before chopping my white-blonde hair to my chin into edgy layers with caramel-colored streaks. Since I'd done that and it had grown a little, I looked maybe—and even this was a stretch—fifteen. Sixteen at best.

"I'll have...?" I looked at Suzie for help. Since I was the one who preferred books to parties, and she had been reading the same book she started as a freshman four years ago because of her affinity for social status, I figured she'd know.

"I'll have a tequila sunrise," she said.

"And you?" the man asked, turning his head towards me. "What will you have?"

"Uh, I, um—"

"She'll have a silver cloud," Suzie said to the pot-bellied man who wore red suspenders to keep his pants from falling. She turned to me and smiled. "You'll love it. It even has whipped cream."

"Whatever." Rolling my eyes, I glanced behind my shoulder and then back to the counter, feeling tingles dance across my spine. We would've sat all day if I had had to decide.

"I swear you'll like it," Suzie said while the bartender made our drinks.

"Sure." I nodded. Leaning down, I kept my eyes on the man as I whispered, "Whipped cream doesn't look like clouds, Suzie, and they aren't silver."

"But—"

"Yeah, yeah. You thought it was funny. Even with visions, you have no idea what it's like to actually go there. It's beautiful, sure, but I was dead. Or with the guy I can never see because he's dead, so yeah. Being pretty doesn't count for much compared to that."

"I—"

"Here you are." The man set the drinks down in the middle of the counter and leaned forward with a wary expression as though he needed to be close enough to snatch them away. "Cash or tab?"

"Huh?" I tore my gaze from Suzie and looked back to the bartender.

"He means drink first, pay later." Suzie rolled her eyes. "Cash, please."

"Oh," I said and nodded. There hadn't been tabs at Tuckers, the arcade I'd been working at for the past year. But then, there hadn't been alcohol there. "How much do I owe you?"

"Ten dollars."

"Seriously?" How did people ever get drunk at a bar if drinks were five bucks a pop?

"Hey, it's Happy Hour. Usually it's six twenty-five," he said.

Whoa. My parents wouldn't have to worry about my one-drink limit when I went to college—I couldn't afford to rebel.

"Come on," Suzie said, putting her hand on my shoulder as she turned her back to the bartender so I would follow.

The lounge wasn't much, just a few tables in the center and booths along the wall. Straight ahead were the main doors, to the left a jukebox. To the right was a swinging saloon double-door with a VLT'S HERE sign pasted on top. It looked country. The dark-panelled walls were coated with an obviously freshly-applied thick polish which, while looking pretty, mixed with the stench of stale beer to make me breathe through my mouth to avoid its stench.