I want the woman. The murderess. Not a servant.
I sigh and look away from her. The glamour breaks and behind her the bubbling ketting goes off and she jumps in surprise.
“Kettle’s done,” she announces in a daze. She’ll be like that for a few minutes until the magic fades completely.
I nod, playing oblivious like I hadn’t just thought of making her into my obedient Thrall. “It is. Do you need any help with the coffee?” What the hell was I thinking? If I want her, I’m going to play this slow and long. I’ve got time and nothing much else to do in town, so why not win her on my own?
I’ve lived for centuries. I can manage to make one human fall for me.
Maris blinks, shakes her head and turns from me quickly. “No, I was a barista when I was in high school. I can make a mean cup of coffee in my sleep.”
I rise from the table, anything to be closer to her. “Can you teach me then?”
Fourteen
MARIS
I’m alone with my neighbor. I’m alone with my hot neighbor. I’m alone with my hot neighbor who also happens to be the new town doctor the day after I murdered someone.
And he wants me to teach him how to make a french press.
The list ofwhat the fuck is going on heremoments could go on forever if I tried, so I don’t. I stop. I try to be rational and take a deep breath to clear my head when Julian rises from the table and asks me to teach him how to make french press. I have to put a hand down on the counter to steady myself. Why do I feel so weird? It’s like my head is stuffed full of cotton. I feel slow and unsteady, everything is fuzzy. Bile rises up from my belly.
Am I about to get sick?
Fuck. I bet I am. Oh no, not in front of Julian.
I take in a deep breath and then another before I take a peek at Julian. He’s beside me and looking me over with a concerned expression on his handsome face.
“Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?” He puts a hand to the small of my back and I jump away from him. I can’t help it. I haven’t been touched by someone gently in so long. Julian’s soft touch makes me think of Brian. He’d thrown me, tried to cut me and…and,oh fuck. My face. I turn away from Julian, acutelyaware that I’ve been talking to him with a busted lip and bruised face. I raise my hand to shield my face from him when he comes closer.
“Maris? Can I help?”
“I-I, help with w-what?” I stammer out. Fuck. How could I be so dumb? The second that I saw him standing there in the doorway, with the sunlight just fucking framing him like an avenging angel, I lost all common sense. It’s like my brain was sucked out and replaced with a dumber, hornier, idiot version of me that hadn’t existed since before I took up the mantle of the resident pariah and psycho. The last time I’d wanted anyone like this had been my on-again, off-again, relationship with Billy Wright. He was a sweet guy, looked like a runway model, a little self-centered but he was okay as far as men went. We’d dated since junior year in high school and my friends, those girls I’d stayed close with from high school, Minnie, Alice, and Jenn, swore he was going to pop the question soon.
I guess Minnie was right. He did pop the question.
To her.
They started dating the week after I was found covered in Mike Sheep’s blood on my front porch. I think there was something about me killing a man that dampened whatever had kept Billy coming back year after year, break up after break up. He’d proposed to Minnie a few months ago. They looked picture perfect standing on the wharf in front of the fishing boat Billy’s family owned with some elaborate proposal set-up featuring a stupid banner with You’re My Lobster!in bright, shiny red letters. There were even dumb lobster shaped balloons proclaimingShe Said Yes!Billy had called me his lobster too. It was from a stupid ass sitcom or whatever, I don’t know but the gist was lobsters mate for life.
“That’s why I keep coming back, and why I will always come back, Maris.”
Fucking pretty ass liar.
I’d found out about the engagement from a social media post that popped up on my feed during a doom scroll session. I don’t post on my socials anymore, that little pastime had lost its allure when my comments started filling with trolls calling me a killer. I’d deleted all my posts fully and went private, intending to pick back up where I left off when things went back to normal, but that’s the thing. In a small town like this, people are assigned roles. I'd fallen from Town Belle to being given the role of Villain. No matter what I did to try and be me again, to be that bright and shiny girl with friends and a fucking lobster boyfriend, they never let me forget what I’d done to Mike. I think it’s because they know, deep down, that I didn’t need to hurt him.
I’d made my choice and Vesper Point is doing its part to make sure I live with it.
Whatever the case, I’ve given up trying to win favor. The courts declared me innocent and this is my home, my goddamn town. If I’m going to be the wicked fucking witch, then fine. Bring it on. I’ll take that bloody, marred, crown of thorns they want me to so desperately wear and make it my own. I’ll wear that crown until it shines brighter than the one I wore at Homecoming.
I’ve been fine on my own. People mostly leave me alone and I wander through town like a ghost, which to them, I am. I’m not me anymore. I’m a memory, only really alive in the newspaper office, but otherwise, a whisper of the woman I’d been before, and that’s fine. It really fucking is because the life I lived before had been okay but it hadn’t been what I’d dreamed of.
I’d wanted to travel, to live in a new city every year and learn languages and eat food I’d never seen before. I wanted to wake up not knowing the time zone I was in. I wanted to be all things and nothing at the same time. Free to roam, free to grow. I hadn’t left, though. Not when granny had taken ill. Not when Iwas the only one she trusted with the newspaper or this house. Her will had sealed the deal on my life here. When granny had died, I had thought that was the time to leave, to start fresh and be the woman I’d hoped to be but…life isn’t fair.
I know that.
My future had been stolen away long before Mike Sheep broke into my house. I’ll probably die here too, buried in Mariner’s Rest with my family. Maybe I’ll find someone that can take over where I’d left off, but maybe I won’t and that will be the end of it. Our line saved a precious few decades more. But even if it’s just a little more time my staying buys, I’m going to pay the price willingly. For Granny. She’d be so annoyed with how I’m acting around Julian. I already know what she’d be screaming at me right now if she could.
