#Chapter87
/"Thank Christ./" Del Dempsey, a viper in a tank top, grimaced as she unhooked two glasses from beneath the bar and hit them up with a generous helping of the good stuff. /"When I saw you walk in back then, I thought you were the other one./"
Downing the shot, sliding the other over to him, Del inclined her head towards the bottle, a silent bid for a refill. Raven necked the brandy, a hiss sizzling past his clenched teeth, before throwing out the go-ahead to top them both off.
/"Talking 'bout my brother?/" Of course she was. Stupid question, but it passed the time, and that was something he had by the abundance.
