I nod. “Just arrived now. Couldn’t resist a cup of joe after the drive in.”
She raises her own to-go cup and gives me a knowing wink. “You enjoy your coffee, handsome. Have a good day now.”
“Same to you, ma’am.” I force the damn smile I give her to stay in place. I came here to lay low but that means hiding in plain sight. No one is going to look twice at the kind doctor or suspect the possibility of him being a vampire trying to put space between them and their idiot klepto maker. The coffee shop is busy for the middle of a rainy week day. It’s decent sized with a dozen tables and a bar inside. Behind the counter two baristas work away and past them I can see a kitchen window where a cook serves up plates. Over half the tables are full. I make a note to come by here on my mornings before work to put in appearances with the locals. A place like this is a good bet for looking normal in town.
I get a few curious looks and a couple of nods of hello. I return those and keep my smile in place as I head up to the register. I pretend to read the sign even though I already know what I’m getting. A quad shot Americano. Black. For the past forty years that’s all I ever get if I have a say but still, I make a show of looking at the menu of lattes and teas like I’m interested. It’s when I’m pretending to read that a woman slams into me. How she does it I don’t know.
One second she’s not there and then she’s slamming into me with a cry of surprise. I reach out a hand to steady her.
“Are you all right?”
“Get off me!” She pushes me, or at least she tries to. I don’t move because not even a man twice my size could move me on account of me being a vampire. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel the strength in her push. She’s strong all right. She looks…scared. Eyes big and darting from side to side but she doesn’t smell scared. She smells…Angry.
Full of rage. Interesting.
I raise my hands to soothe her. “I’m sorry.”
A big man comes to her side and grabs her arm. “Maris, settle down now,” he orders. “You-” that last you comes out more of asound than anything else because the woman slams the heel of her hand into his nose and kicks him. The blows are vicious. She drops the man without so much as breaking a sweat.
Impressive.
A woman at a table near us screams. “Someone call the cops!”
There’s another shriek and I hear the smash of a plate falling on the floor which makes zero sense because the woman isn’t moving from where she’s standing. She’s still in front of me and looking up at me with wide eyes. She has dark hair, black with reddish highlights in it that I see even in the soft light of the coffee shop. She has high cheekbones and full lips and a pert nose. She’s the kind of beauty that stands out because of how timeless it is. She looks every bit like the dewy-eyed debutantes that threw themselves at my feet the last time I was in Spain but that was over a hundred years ago and this woman….she isn’t quite right.
I can sense it, even without the little show she just put on for me. The man groans at our feet. A staunch reminder the woman in front of me is no wilting flower. She might look soft and sweet but there’s a wildness to her—a razor edge that feels like it could cut through steel. But why? What the hell is it with her I’m feeling? Is she the selkie Aubrey mentioned? Maybe even a mermaid?
It has to be one of them.
Humans don’t feel like thisbut supes do.
I tilt my head to look her over and she does the same. The mirror of my movement snaps me out of my study of her. If she’s mimicking my movements then I’ve accidentally started to glamour her. She’s human all right. A supe wouldn’t fall under my glamour like that but a human would. Another woman yells and a man joins the noise. As much as she’s terrorizing the Perky Perch, she’s come by it honestly. She’s only a human.
I step away from her and break the glamour. The woman blinks once, twice, then looks around like she doesn’t remember how she got where she is. I know why. A glamour leaves humans open to suggestion, in a dream-like state where their truths, their memories, even their perception of reality can be bent and twisted to suit the vampire exercising their will on the human. I broke the glamour before it took root. She’ll only be a little out of sorts while everyone continues to lose their shit.
“I called the cops, Maris. You’re in big fucking trouble. Do you hear me?” The barista behind the counter waves a hand at her. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come in this morning.”
Maris blinks and looks around the room. “I-I…” she opens her mouth but only a whisper comes out. “I’m sorry,” she whispers but she isn’t looking at the room when she says that. She’s looking at me.
She’s apologizing to me.
Around us the coffee shop continues to go to shit. I don’t know why. It’s not like she’s doing anything and she only kicked the man getting to his knees once. Big fucking deal. I see more than that on my way to work in the morning.
“It’s all right,” I tell her. “You’re all right.”
She shakes her head, just a slight movement and her mouth twists in a frown. “No, it’s not. Nothing is all right. I’m not. Not anymore.”
“Get out of here, Maris!”
She winces when she hears that and ducks her head. “I’m sorry,” she says but this isn’t for me. This time her words are louder. They carry through the coffee shop and somehow those two damn words makes everyone shut the fuck up.
I look around in awe at the silence. Everyone has gone still and quiet. The man getting to his feet gives Maris an awkward nod as he wipes blood off his nose. “S’all right, Maris. No harm, no foul,” he tells her but the woman is already rushing forwardtowards the door. She practically runs out of the coffee shop and slams the door behind her.
We’re all quiet for a beat before the barista that was yelling about the police motions for me to come forward with a smile like nothing happened.
“What can I get you today?”
What the hell kind of place is this?
