I nodded in agreement. “It looks like a dive from outside.” This felt similar to being with Killian in that club in New York, except this place was smaller, much less cool, and much less crowded. And of course, this place wasn’t packed with blood witches. And Hunter and I were no longer together… Oh, Goddess, don’t go down that road, I told myself. Still, the festive air that surrounded my half brother had caught up to us in the Twilite, and once again we were all laughing until our faces hurt, even me. The fact that most of us were drinking, underage or not, wasn’t hurting.

“Hey, are you all right?” Bree spoke into my ear again, struggling to be heard over the music but still quiet enough so the whole pub wouldn’t hear. “I know it must be hard for you, being out but not having Hunter anymore.”

I nodded. I was grateful for Bree’s concern, but this didn’t seem like the time or place to talk about it. “It’s hard,” I agreed. “Thanks for asking. I’m okay, though.”

“If you need to talk…” Robbie came up behind Bree and kissed her cheek. She giggles, and suddenly I felt very single. Bree gave me one last concerned look, and I smiled to show her I was okay.

“Sip?” Bree asked Robbie, holding out her screwdriver.

He shook his head, half smiling. “No—some of us have to be able to drive.” Bree was being extremely friendly to him, pressing close and talking in his ear. I looked around the table, feeling like everyone here was my good friend, that we could celebrate Wicca together. Not having Hunter with me, being a single girl among all the couples—I missed what I’d had with Hunter more than I could say. But still, having a group of friends I loved helped ease the pain inside me, just a little.

Jenna, on her third beer, giggled and leaned against Sharon, who wasn’t drinking at all. She looked like she wasn’t having as good a time as the rest of us. Ethan wasn’t drinking, either, but he’d been getting twitchier and twitchier, and I wondered if they’d had a fight. To keep everyone else company, I had ordered a whiskey sour, which was what my mom usually drank. It hadn’t been too bad, and I had ordered another. Killian and Raven had downed so many Jell-O shots that I had lost count. Now seemed a good time to talk to him. Smiling at him, I edged closer.

“Killian, I wanted to ask you—” I began.

“I love this song!” Killian shouted as the jukebox started another number. “Come on!” Clambering out of the booth, he grabbed Bree’s hand, who grabbed Robbie’s hand, who grabbed my hand, and then we were all dancing together on the tiny dance floor with sawdust slipping under our feet. And my opportunity was lost.

I’ve never been a big partier, and I hate dancing in public. The thing about whiskey sours, though, is they make you mind that kind of stuff less. Back at the table, Sharon and Ethan were actually bickering. When Ethan grabbed a beer off the waitress’s tray, Sharon’s face set like cement, and she grabbed her purse. I saw her ask Matt to take her home, and he agreed, shooting Ethan a glance.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Jenna said, and though I couldn’t hear the word physically, I heard them in my mind. Sharon shrugged, looking upset, and Jenna got her coat and followed Sharon and Matt.

Ethan was sucking down his beer, watching Sharon angrily, but he didn’t stop her from leaving. In moments he had finished the first beer and started on another.

“What was that about?” I asked Robbie. He and I had edged away from the crowd and were now leaning against a back wall that felt sticky. I felt hot and out of breath, and a third whiskey sour felt fabulous going down my throat.

“Ethan had stopped drinking,” Robbie told me, not looking happy. “I didn’t think it was a great idea for him to come here.”

“Oh, crap,” I said, my head feeling light.

Robbie shrugged. At the table, Ethan’s second beer was empty. He signaled for another, but the waitress tapped her watch.

“Good,” I said, setting my empty glass on top of the jukebox. "It's closing time. They'll cut him off, and we can go home." I staggered a bit when I pushed myself off the wall, and that seemed amusing. It took forever for us to get our coats and scarves and pay our check, which was a stunning amount. Bree put it on her credit card, and we all promised to pay her back.

The shock of the night air took my breath away. "Oh, it's beautiful out," I said, gesturing to the wide expanse of sky. The night seemed darker than usual, the start brighter. But looking up made me lose my balance, and I would have fallen over if I hadn't crashed into Killian.

Laughing, he held me up until I was steady, and I blinked at him as the realization slowly came to me: I was wasted.

Robbie was loading Bree and Ethan into Breezy, and they were both feeling no pain. Raven was plastering herself to Killian, kissing him good-bye, and he wasn't resisting.

"Take me home," she said softly, holding his face between her hands. I rolled my eyes and started pawing through my fanny pack for my keys. Do not go home with her, I thought. Sky will kill you. And I need to talk to you alone. With a sudden pang, I wished Hunter were here. He would know what to do. He would help me. I would feel so much better.

"Raven, come with us," Robbie said. My hero. "You live close to Ethan, and I can drop off. Morgan takes another exit."

"I want to come home with you," Raven told Killian. She pressed her hips against him and smiled. "And you want me to."

He laughed and disengaged himself easily. "Not tonight, Raven. I'll take a rain check."

For a moment Raven couldn't decide whether to be angry or to pout, but in the end she was too drunk for either and fell backward into the backseat of Bree's car. Robbie sighed and slammed the door shut. Bree's fine dark hair was pressed against her window, and I saw her eyes were closed. With a wave good-bye, Robbie started Breezy and drove off.

"Fun people, your friends," said Killian. His words came out with puffs of condensation.

I looked at him for a moment until I understood the actual words. "Uh-huh," I said stupidly.

Killian grinned with delight and brushed my damp hair off my neck. "Little sister, are you tipsy?"

"I'm a mess," I said, feeling like my tongue needed to lie down and rest. Then two more synapses fired. "Oh, crap!" I said. "We're both drunk. Who's going to drive? We'll have to call a taxi."

"Oh, love, you're so concerned with what's right and wrong," Killian said soothingly. "It'll be fine. You know these roads. That car's a tank. No worries."

I was so drunk that I almost believed him. Then I shook my head, which felt loose and floppy. "No. We can't drive drunk," I slurred. "That would be bad."

His dark eyes glinted in the night.

I'm related to him, I thought in a daze. We share the same blood, I have a brother.

Slowly Killian reached out again and spread his hand on the side of my head, pushing his fingers beneath my hair. Smiling down at me, he whispered some words in Gaelic that I didn't know but somehow understood the meaning of. I started to feel strange and closed my eyes. When he quit speaking, I waited till he had moved his hand, then opened my eyes. I felt stone cold sober.

I looked around. I felt completely normal. I could walk, talk, and think. Killian saw the comprehension on my face and laughed again, his white teeth gleaming against his lips.

"Okay, I can drive," I said.

We got into Das Boot, my brain clinking away efficiently. I was sober; Killian was plastered. And I was going to find out where he was staying. There were possibilities here. I might get some information from him after all.

I drove slowly back down old Highway 60. Killian was leaning against his door, his head against the window. Eyes closed, he was singing under his breath.

"How did you get home last night?" I asked. "I ran after you to offer you a ride home, but you were already gone. How did you do it?"