I think we both realize this at the same time, because we take off down the hall as quickly and quietly as we can manage.

One of us needs to drink. Now.

I burst through the doors of our suite, through the bedroom, down the steps, and straight to the mini-fridge. I can’t ask Anna to drink. It’s not right. But I’m not sure she’s comfortable keeping an ear on Father and Astaroth. So I use a hand to sign, One of us has to stay sober to listen.

She immediately points to me, so I give her cinnamon liqueur. She downs it with barely a cringe, blowing out a stream of cinnamon air. Father and Astaroth are climbing on the elevator now, flirting with a random woman. I hope like hell they’ll be distracted by her.

I hand Anna the orange liqueur and she frowns as she swallows. I wonder if she’s feeling it yet. She looks . . . normal. She taps her wrist and I hold up three fingers, then make a zero. Thirty seconds. The Dukes are not distracted enough by the woman and are now heading down our hall.

I try to give her the amaretto next, but she shakes her head hard and reaches over me for the tequila. She throws it back with a smack, and for a split second I forget who we are and who’s after us, because hot damn. I love when she is hard-core.

Then my stomach flips with remembrance and Anna holds out her hand, shaking it with impatience. I thrust the vodka into her hand and she downs it, smacking the carpet with a slight grimace. Yeah, that didn’t go down as pleasantly as the tequila. She holds out her hand again, but she’s already had four big shots.

Are you sure? I sign. It would be terrible for her to get too drunk, but she still looks okay. She nods fast and I hand her the rum, both impressed and frightened by her high tolerance. She drinks the last one like it’s nothing.

Father and Astaroth are nearly at our door. They’ve stopped chatting and I can only hear their footsteps on the thick carpet.

Please let this work. Anna and I move to stand at the same time and she tips to the side before catching herself and sitting on the floor.

Then she giggles and my heart sinks to my feet.

Oh. Shit.

She stares over at the minibar and I slash a hand across my throat. Cut off. She frowns. She’d better not even think about having another! Damn it! She has to keep her wits about her when the Dukes get here.

I brush my hair back roughly with my fingers. So much for high tolerance.

The Dukes are right outside the door, silent. I look at Anna and put a finger to my lips. I don’t want her to say a word. A knock fills the room. Anna stares back at me, kind of glossy, and I think I might’ve just ruined the entire operation. As I jump to my feet I realize that in this state she won’t even be able to use the hilt that’s hiding in her bag. I should have been the one to drink. I grind my teeth together, furious with myself, and pull the door open.

“Father. Duke Astaroth.” I tilt my head as if I’m curious about their visit. “What can I do for you?”

Young dickhead flicks his hand to the side. “Let us in and close the door. Astaroth just wants to have a look at her.”

I step aside and close the door when they pass, then I walk to the sitting area behind them, straining my neck for a look at Anna. She’s sitting in front of the mini-fridge just as I left her, looking like a lush.

She stares up at Astaroth, the Fabio of the Dukes, as he sneers down at her.

“This one’s piss-drunk,” says Astaroth. “I can’t get a reading.”

My heart gives a giant throb of reprieve, but the show is not over. He will be suspicious if I don’t react somehow.

“A reading on what?” I ask. “A bond? You can’t be serious.” He ignores me.

Suddenly Anna stands, or tries to stand, and takes a stumbling set of side steps into the couch. She bursts into laughter, unable to fully stand, and I think I might die.

“You don’t waste any time,” Father says.

Ugh, no. Don’t talk to her. Go away, go away.

“There’s more!” Anna flings an arm behind her to point at the fridge. “I didn’t drink it all. Want some?”

Shite, Anna, shut up!

“I’ll pass,” Father says. He’s got an impish grin on his face. “But I think you should have another.”

No, you giant knob, she should not. Damn, how long until this begins to burn off her? I feel like we’ve been standing here forever. Anna drops to the floor in front of the fridge, her shorts riding up her thighs and showing a sliver of bum crack. Father most definitely notices, making a lewd gesture, and I want to take him down.

Astaroth gets bored and leaves. I’m so itchy a hive of bees covers my skin. It is killing me to stand here. I move to the entertainment center, mere feet from where Anna crouches, and I lean against it, crossing my arms.

“They need more tequila in these minibar fridge thingamajigs,” Anna says. She sits up with a bottle in her hand and I nearly drop-kick it from her fingers.

Father looks at me with absolute mirth.

“I told you,” I spit. “She’s a lush. An idiot. I can’t believe you’d think there was a bond between us.”

Please, Anna, do not say anything. Stay quiet. Tear through the sweets in the fridge. Pass out. Do anything except drink or talk.

“Eh, you can’t really blame me for wondering when you wouldn’t even screw the stewardess today. You’re usually all about cougars.” Shite . . .

“Eww!” Anna squeals, stuffing her hands over her ears.

“See,” I mutter. “Completely immature.”