More than anyone, Percy had the right to join him. Which was funny, when Vax woozily thought about it. Percy. Vex. Death and smoke monsters and titles, the whole fucking lot. And here they were now, just the two of them.

He reached for the shot glass, hoisting it enthusiastically at Percy and only sloshing a drop or two along the way. "For Vex'ahlia," he agreed, his voice coming out a touch hoarse. "Too good, for either of us... But she wanted us anyway," he chased the remark by knocking back the whiskey. "Ohhh," he exhaled the alcoholic fumes.