These are the lies we want to live [Kait]

@"Kait"

“What? Ranch is tasty,” she said. “Sucks on salad, but it’s great on other stuff.”

”I’m pretty sure they only serve salad in hell,” Lochlann said, shaking his head. He ran his hand through his much-shorter hair. ”And there are always cherry tomatoes. There is nothing more terrifying than a cherry tomato.”


“In front of all these people? So forward, Lochlann.”

”Think of it as putting on a show,” Lochlann teased, but he was glad she knew what he meant. Or at least he thought she knew what he meant, because she fell very, very quiet. He didn’t seem to mind, though, taking a few long sips of his beer as well, just happy to be out.


“…You know what? Sure. I think I trust you that much. Just, uh, lemme know when to close my eyes, ok?”

Her smiled looked nervous and it triggered something in him. The grin he gave back to her was predatory, and his green eyes were narrows slightly. He was like a shark that just smelled blood in the water.

”Excellent,” he said. ”I’m not going to say ‘you won’t regret this’ because you might, but it’ll be worth the experience.”

He waved the bartender over and picked up the menu, pointing to something on it, lifting his fingers in two, and then pointing to Chloe and mouthing the word virgin. The bartender left and Lochlann slid off his barstool and stood behind Chloe, resting his chin on her shoulder for a minute with his hands on either side of her on the bar to brace himself.

When he saw the bartender returning, Lochlann slid one hand over Chloe’s eyes. He slid the shotglass into her hand, and then wrapped his fingers around her hand and helped guide it to her mouth without spilling.

It was a shot of Bruichladdich, a 184 proof whiskey. There was a saying about Bruichladdich: one sip and you live forever; two sips and you go blind; three sips and you die where you stand. Lochlann wasn’t sure about that, but it was one of the few things that could still get him drunk.

”Tilt your head and relax your throat,” Lochlann said in her ear, his voice low and husky. ”It’ll go down easier.

He’d let go of her hand and eyes after she took the shot and then quickly grab his own, downing it after her, giving her a wicked, wicked grin.

“This is such a terrible idea,” she said. …. “Wow, that was strong,” …. “I could feel it burning my throat on the way down.”

”Good,” Lochlann said, but he laughed and patted her on the shoulder. ”But don’t be nervous. There’s only one place that has something stronger than this that’s not magical, and I realize I don’t know anything about your body metabolism—can you still get alcohol poisoning?”

He grinned at her the entire time as she slammed down the cup and cleared her throat. He returned to his barstool, just in time for the wings to come back. Lochlann tackled his with a gusto normally reserved for eating, well, other things.

”Is it good?” he asked her, looking up from an empty wing bone. ”I mean, as good as ranch can possibly get.”

Truthfully, Lochlann had nothing against ranch. He also had nothing against Chloe to tease her about, so the ranch would have to settle. Sometimes, he was a little jealous that she’d always seen him at his most spazzy moments and she’d always been this statue of calm.

” My first boyfriend back home had suggestion powers too. Dude was even sketchier than you, though, now that I think about it.”

”That’s….hmm,” Lochlann said, laughing. ”I don’t know if it’s a good thing that I’m less sketchy, or a bad thing that you had to deal with someone worse than me. What was his name?”

@"kait"

“Probably. I mean, I don’t actually know,” Chloe told him, “but I don’t really want to drink enough to find out either.”

"Well, you better be prepared to drink enough to dance with me," Lochlann warned her again. "If alcohol poisoning is what it takes....."

He pretended to cackle manically, but realized he was holding a chicken wing while doing it so the point was kind of useless. He shook his head and then said, "But no, let me know when you've reached your limit. Be persistent if you have to. I don't want you to ever have to know what it's like to get your stomach pumped."

He was happy she was enjoying her wings. He was already halfway through his wings.

“Trevor,” She said. “He was a real trip. Even after we broke up, he convinced me to help him manage this illegal gambling thing he was running. Which… I kinda needed honestly, seeing as I couldn’t get a job outside of the shadow economy in that world.” She shrugged. Like she had told him, she didn’t really have a future back there. “He had his fingers in a lot of illegal stuff. And his parents owned this private military firm that was basically helping the government exterminate supernaturals. They were rich; he didn’t really need the money. I think he just did it because he was bored.”

Lochlann was holding a wing and staring at her, trying to figure out if she was messing with him or if she was serious. His first thought was that he needed to protect her like right now but that was stupid, because everything was in the past, and Chloe was more than capable of taking care of herself.

".....I can't....I can't picture you doing anything illegal. Like I just can't wrap my head around that at all," Lochlann said, propping his head on one hand and studying her openly. He shook his head and gave her an easy grin,"Next you're going to tell me you ran a dog fighting ring..."

"I really am glad you saved me from all that. Even if you were just trying to get laid."

He looked her straight in the eye and said, "You're the best thing that's ever happened from me trying to get laid."

He took another bite of his chicken wing, then licked the sauce off one of his fingers. He studied her again.

"What do you want to do? Now that the world is your cloister or whatever the saying is."

@"Kait"

Lochlann studied her again, but his face was blank and impassive. He had a harder time imagining her running a gambling ring than he did seeing her ruling hell. There was a bit of dissonance there, but Lochlann couldn't explain why.

He passed the bartender a stack of ones to pay for their drinks and food.

"Well, there's certainly job security," he laughed. "I guess I thought you were immortal already. Is that only something that happens when you become a demon noble?"

He'd started reading a lot more books on demons--and bird life, but that was unrelated--since he'd boned her dad. None of it had helped. Hell was probably designed to be purposefully confusing.

"If that's what you want to do, I'd say go for it. As long as you're doing it because you want to, and not because you feel like your obligated to because he's your dad."

Lochlann did not trust her dad, but that was his own fault, and he couldn't project his feelings onto Chloe.

He was waiting for her to finish her wings. He had another place in mind for this evening. It involved absinthe.

“Huh,” Lochlann said, taking that new information about her and filing it in his brain. He hadn’t really considered her life span before, but for some reason knowing that she wasn’t immortal now sent a twinge of anxiety running through his veins.

Lochlann spent a long time worrying about eating his friends. Chloe had always been offlimits and while Lochlann was still convinced she’d be able to whoop his ass before he’d even get an inch near the water, he did not like the part of him that responded to her vulnerability with interest.

“So he can just….turn you into one? No strings attached?” Lochlann was dubious, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he slid off the barstool, grabbed her, and threw her over his shoulder again.

“Hopefully we’ll get enough alcohol in you that the next time you hear music, you’ll want to dance instead,” he said, heading for the door. Once they were outside, Lochlann took a deep breath of the evening air and then set off on his course. The night was young. He had absinthe to feed her. THere was that little goth cafe place, they were open late, and their drinks were hella good.

“Chloe,” he said. “Tell me something about yourself you’ve never told anyone else.”