"Nah," he says, lingering too long on the less than articulate response. "Sergius is somewhere around here. Probably being a fucking wet blanket, excuse the language."

Cal's still swaying, still watching distractedly as the material of her dress picks up the lights of the club. It looks almost iridescent. He'd tell her that too if he thought he could pronounce it right now. "Val doesn't do clubs. Do you want a drink? I was gonna go get another round anyway."