Page 99 of Feast of Fools


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ALEKSANDR

Taking a slow sip of my drink, I invite the familiar burn of cold vodka down my throat and swallow deeply. The harsh feeling is the closest thing I will ever get to true inebriation. A human experience that is always dangling at the very tip of my finger, but I can never quite grasp it.

It’s a bore.

The frenetic energy inside of Vore tonight makes the bar feel damn near sentient. An invisible force surging with life and gorging on everybody’s hunger.

At least something in here is.

The scantily clad burlesque dancers shimmer like living, breathing disco balls, dripping with diamonds and Swarovski crystals as they writhe on large swings near the ceiling. I hire them directly from Animus, one of the many business deals I’ve made with Gemini throughout the years for my clubs and restaurants.

Tonight, all seven of us are expected at Vore to celebrate Constantine finally getting her cast removed. Before this year’s Lottery, having all of us in one room—by our own free will—would have never occurred. But the wheel of change is turning—and turning fast.

With a sigh, I rest my chin on my palm while my gaze flicks to Constantine. She’s been glued to the stripper’s pole she had me install in the middle of the VIP section. To my dismay, she hasn’t stopped moving since the cast came off two days ago. She promised me swift dismemberment if I eventriedto attempt to have her rest.

My stomach twists into knots as I watch her hook her recently injured knee around the pole. As she bends herself backward, sliding her leg up the pole, her ruffled pink shorts ride up her ass, and my stomach does a lot more than just twist into knots.

How can I hunger for someone with such conviction when I’ve never experiencedphysicalhunger in the first place? A conundrum.

My own little paradox.

Wolfgang drops down beside me. My gaze slides to him and then to Belladonna and Mercy talking a few seats over, but my attention eventually returns to Constantine.

“Have you said anything to her yet?” He utters the question close to my ear, but my body jolts, as if he yelled it into the club’s speakers for everyone to hear.

I shush him loudly as I straighten up. He says nothing more, smirking into his drink, his gold signet ring catching the light as he takes a slow sip of bourbon.

I answer him anyway. “It hasn’t been the right time, and besides?—”

Constantine’s squeal of delight rises above the loud music, causing both Wolfgang and me to turn our heads at the sound. She bounces up and down on her chunky platforms, her pink-tipped pigtails bouncing right along with her.

It takes me a second to find what has made her so giddy, and I hear Wolfgang loudly groan beside me the moment I finally spot it myself.

It’s Veil. She’s cutting through the crowd with Gemini following right behind her.

And she’s leading him by a leash.

“Children,” Wolfgang mutters with exasperation, suddenly acting like our father.

Something about his reaction, the dejected pinch of his nose, and the absurdity of our newest couple making such a show in public has me barking out a laugh.

No wonder Constantine is so pleased to see them.

Whatever makes existing more tantalizing, more vibrant with life. Because I am the only one who will ever understand the all-consuming emptiness that accompanies the lack of such a primal sensation like pain … or hunger.

She will reach dizzying heights just to feel.

I’m usually right beside her when she does.

When Veil reaches our section, Constantine leaps into her arms, her foot snapping up behind her. She then promptly drags Veil by the hand to where we are sitting. Gemini eagerly follows Veil like a lovestruck puppy.

The leash is long enough that Gemini sits beside Mercy, joining her conversation with Belladonna while Veil and Constantine join ours.

“Can you believe it?” Constantine snickers into her hands before sighing wistfully and looking up at the ceiling. “True love.”

Veil, who usually reeks of anxious energy, appears quite calm today, chin high and shoulders straight. She toys with the leash resting on her lap before saying, “It’s the least he can do.”