He wasn’t prepared for real violence when there were witnesses around, so he didn’t react quickly enough. Wallace stood, hooking a hand behind his neck and slamming his head down against the table. He narrowly avoided shattering one of the soda glasses with his face. Someone screamed, and Julian tried to rise, but Wallace’s weight held him in place, bent over the table.
“You’renothingnow, do you understand that?” Wallace growled in his ear. His big hand was sweaty against the side of Julian’s face. “You used to be a part of something great, but you threw it away. As far as I’m concerned, that makes you no better than the demon fuckers living in that rotten skating rink.”
Julian’s hands scrabbled for something on the table to use as a weapon. Where was the silverware?
“Hey!” Tina’s voice rang out above the chaos. “I’m calling the police! Take your goddamn hands off himnow!”
Wallace released him, and Julian jerked upright, staggering away and into another table, where a couple exclaimed in shock, edging away from him.
Wallace cast Tina a cool look. “There’s no need for that. We’re going. I think we’ve made our point.” He slanted a sideways glare at Julian. “Don’t get too comfortable. We’re coming for you.”
Terror seized his lungs. He gripped the table behind him as the paladins filed out, tossing him smirks and ominous snickers as they went.
Tina waited until they were all out of the building, then rushed over, grabbed his arm, and hauled him back into the kitchen.
“I didn’t call the cops,” she said. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me to. Are you okay? Those sons of bitches. I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with them. What was he saying to you?” She grabbed him by the face and turned his head to look at the growing bruise on his temple, scowling at whatever she saw. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had an impression of the wood grain on his face.
“It’s—It’s fine. Will you let me go? I’m fine.” He batted her hands away. “Thank you for helping. He was just making some idle threats. It’s nothing to be worried about.”
She studied him for a long moment, her deep brown eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully pale.”
“I’m always pale. Who has time to go to the beach these days? I’m working two jobs and get six hours of sleep in the morning before I do it all over again.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t see how you do that. Are you sure you’re okay?”
He was not. In fact, he thought he might be sick. He wanted more than anything to put his head down and go to sleep so he could see Valac. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. When had he started relying so heavily on those nightly visits?
Instead, he straightened and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just glad they’re gone.”
“If they try to come back, Iamcalling the cops.”
“Good, I’m glad. Can I get back to work now?”
Tina narrowed her eyes. “Hm, I don’t know. Maybe you should take the rest of the night off. You might need to have your head looked at. How hard did you hit that table?”
“Not that hard. I don’t feel dizzy, I’m not seeing double, and the pain is relatively minor.”
“Relatively?” Her eyes narrowed further, becoming bare little slits.
He took her by the shoulders and said kindly but firmly, “So help me God, I’m finishing my shift. I need the money. You’re not the boss of me, Tee.”
She sighed. “I know. I just worry! You’re so quiet anyway. You come in, you work, and you leave. And then these guys show up out of the blue trying to cause trouble. Are you in some kind of danger? Do you need help?”
He smiled. Tina was good people. “Don’t worry about me.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m going to worry anyway; you can’t stop me. Do you want a couple of ibuprofen for that headache you’re going to have for the rest of the afternoon? I have a bottle in my purse.”
“Yes, please.”
And then he got back to work, shuffling from table to table and charming the money right out of people’s hands. A few of them commented on the bruise on his head. He gave all the witnesses a different excuse—he was on the run from the mafia, he owed them money for refusing to take the fall in an illegal fighting ring, he stole their prize alligator and returned it to the wild—and after they all left, he gave every table after that a different story, too, each more grandiose than the last.
By the time his shift was over, a thin line of sweat dampened the back of his white shirt, and his head pounded with every pulse of his heart. His day was only half over, but at least he’d be able to sit in the quiet security room tonight and get some semblance of rest. It would be better than being on his feet in a crowded restaurant with kitchen staff watching his every move like they expected him to have a seizure at any moment. He wasfine.
He clocked out at the machine and waved goodbye to the cook, who was manning a handful of steaks on the flat stovetop.
The parking lot behind the restaurant was quiet despite the hum of cars passing on the street in front of it. One lone street light illuminated the area back here, and as he passed under it, it turned off. His body prickled with awareness as he cast a sharp look around him.
He’d made fresh holy water during his preparations for the house, and he kept a small flask of it in his pocket, just in case. It wasn’t enough to kill, but it could hurt a demon long enough for him to get away. His car was parked at the back of the lot where the shadows were deepest, because he didn’t want anyone else parking there. A concrete water channel was just a handful of steps through scraggly grass from the edge of the lot, a six foot drop and mired in shadow.
