Lifting his drink to his lips, he was hit with ice but no more sanity-saving alcohol. He lowered the tumbler and frowned at it. Empty again. How the hell did that happen? This had to have been his third drink since they reached the bar, and he was still too damn sober. Right now, the only thing the alcohol was doing was making him introspective and helping him to realize that a good chunk of his problem was jealousy.
Well, jealousy and raging attraction for the one man he could not have.
It didn’t matter if Grey saw some kind of faded-out string binding them. They weren’t fated mates or soul mates or whatever the hell Clay, Baer, and Grey had found. At this point, Calder would feel lucky if he and Lucien could find a way to be friends.
And he did want to be friends with Lucien. He did like the man. More than merely being sexy, Lucien was also compassionate and funny. His strength was beyond physical. At his very core, he was strong and brave. Calder admired him for all those things, but he also found that he wanted to kiss the man senseless, and that nearly uncontrolled need was driving him insane.
Control was something he needed in spades with Lucien. He needed to control his desire to climb him like a tree, and he needed to control his tongue, but not the fun way. More the way of keeping it from spewing the nasty and mean things he’d been saying recently.
Yes, it wasn’t him alone. Lucien could be just as mean. But if he stopped, maybe Lucien would stop.
Swallowing a pathetic sigh, Calder lifted his eyes from his empty drink to glance around the bar, trying very hard to avoid Lucien along the way. It was a nice place Wiley had selected, well away from downtown Savannah. The pestilents had clearly gotten accustomed to looking for them there, and they needed a night off from chaos and slaughter.
While not exclusively a gay bar, it definitely catered to men out on the prowl for other men. There was a long bar that seemed to stay perpetually busy and a scattering of pub tables and stools about the place. A small dance floor was in the center as well as a professional DJ who was good enough to keep the floor moderately packed with dancers. He was obviously saving his best stuff in reserve for later in the evening when everyone was ripped.
The lights were low except for the bits of neon and well-placed recess lamps, creating a cozy atmosphere. From what he could tell, the place was clean enough. At least the floor, seats, and tabletop weren’t sticky.
A hand touched Calder’s arm, and he jerked around to see Wiley smiling at him as he partially leaned across the table. “You wanna dance?”
His heart skipped a beat, and his mouth went dry at the very idea. Not so much dancing with Wiley. It would be utterly platonic. The man was completely lost over his mate, and Calder didn’t see Wiley that way. But dancing where Lucien could see him, could laugh at him? Not a chance.
“I’ve never been much of a dancer,” he replied, lifting his voice enough to be heard over the music.
“Did you go out to bars a lot when you lived in California?” Wiley continued, seemingly undeterred. At least he hadn’t gotten his heart set on dancing.
“No. Not really. It’s never been my thing. I used to hang out with friends or go to the beach.”
A derisive snort came from Lucien’s direction, and Calder’s eyes snapped up to his face to see his lip curled. He opened his full lips, and Calder knew that it was going to be something mean. He braced himself for it, readying his own barb.
“Ow!” Lucien jerked and reached down to rub his leg while scowling across the table at Baer. The other Weaver had read it in Lucien’s face as well and had kicked him.
“Oh! Sorry about that. I guess we’re sitting closer together than I thought,” Baer said cheerfully, but there was a warning in his gaze.
Calder sucked in a breath, getting ready to demand to know what Lucien was about to say when Wiley’s hand clamped on his arm. He looked at the young man to see an expression that was part warning and part pleading. Yeah, that’s right. He was supposed to be watching what he was saying.
He slowly released his breath, his shoulders slumping. This needed to stop. It wasn’t only hurting him. The constant bickering and sniping was hurting their friends.
For now, he could suck it up and ignore Lucien. They were in the home stretch. Once they located the final Weaver, they could cast the spell that would lock the pestilents out of their world permanently. Then there would be no more need for the Weavers Circle. They could all go their separate ways. He’d never have to see Lucien again.
A sharp, stabbing pain sliced through his heart, threatening to knock the breath from his lungs at the thought of never seeing Lucien. Part of him wanted to curl up into a ball under the table and weep. Another wanted to glom on to Lucien and become a small Japanese-American growth on his body. Yeah, that would be fine. No one would even notice him.
Lovely. He couldn’t stand to be around Lucien, and he couldn’t live with the idea of not being near him. There was not enough alcohol in all the world to get him through this night.
Calder lifted his gaze away from the table, skimming over all the people who were laughing and dancing. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, blissfully unaware that there was an entire group of creatures slowly invading their world, intent on destroying it to save their own.
He missed the ocean. The bob and churn of the waves. The crashing sound as they broke and rolled into the sandy shore. He missed the smell and feel of the salt in the air. Maybe that was what he needed. To head out to Tybee Island for one afternoon. Not even to surf. It would be enough to sit on the sand and watch the waves roll in. Let the calm wash over him and pull back out all this anger and frustration.
Or maybe he could lose himself in the sexy dark-haired creature smiling at him from the bar. Dear God, he was yummy. The stranger was leaning against the bar with black, shoulder-length hair that had the softest loose curls around a nice, tanned complexion. He was built, considering the way his white shirt was molded to impressive shoulders and rested on his flat stomach. There was the most tempting smile on his full lips and maybe even a bit of laughter in his dark eyes.
He was watching Calder.
No, more likely he was watching Lucien.
Calder barely caught the sigh that tried to break forth. Of course he was watching Lucien. It was an easy mistake to make. They were sitting right next to each other at the table. Naturally, everyone was drawn to Lucien’s charisma and charm. The man could stand there and ooze sexiness. Fucking annoying.
“Look at that!” Lucien suddenly exclaimed. “We all need a refill.”
Calder glanced around the table to find that Lucien was right. He’d sadly been more concerned with his empty drink and bottomless thirst for alcohol to numb his brain and heart against this night.
“I’ll get this round. More of the same?”
“Beer is fine with me,” Baer murmured.
Lucien’s elbow bumped his arm, rocking him slightly on the stool. “Another Shirley Temple for you?”
Calder looked up to see a tightness in his smile. It was almost a grimace. Calder clenched his teeth and matched his harsh smile. “Gin and tonic, thanks. And not well, please.”
Lucien sniffed and rose to his feet, tipping his chin up so that he could further stare down on Calder. “As if I’d get you well gin.” Like the idea of supplying him with well alcohol was simply beneath him.