She was only here for the alcohol. Anubis had promised her alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. Which was the only thing that seemed to make her numb enough not to care lately. She'd been drunk quite a bit recently, and really, Bast was just fine with that. No matter what kinds of looks her brother gave her.
It was bad enough that he'd dictated what she wore. But he'd absolutely vetoed the slinky black dress with the extra tight skirt and the low-cut bodice that showed off her assets to their best advantage. Instead, he'd pulled out this thing that looked like something from Isis' closet. But, again, he'd promised her alcohol. So she put it on, along with the masks her brother had chosen.
With a frustrated sigh, she looked over the venue and made a face. "Everything is black. That's boring. I need tequila immediately to make it better."
With that announcement, Bast turned toward the direction of the bar, her eyes glancing over the crowd. And she suddenly felt the blood drain from her face. No. It couldn't be. It was just a stupid rabbit mask. It wasn't him. He'd be somewhere near his mother or something. It. Was. Not. Hermod. "I need a lot of fucking tequila."