“Adam.” His voice is sharp. “Don’t lie to me. Did you let him feed?”
My silence is answer enough.
“Holy shit.” Felix’s expression shifts from concern to fascination to something that looks almost like pride. “How was it? Are you okay? Did it hurt? Do interdimensional beings have big dicks? Give me details!”
“I’m not giving you details!” My face is burning so hot I’m surprised I haven’t combusted.
“Come on! Just a little bit! Was it the best sex of your life or did you…”
“Felix!” I practically squeak his name.
He grins, shameless and delighted. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. But you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you?”
“No. He didn’t hurt me.” My voice softens. “He was actually really gentle.”
“Good.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I’m glad. You deserve someone who treats you well.”
The words make my throat tight. “He’s gone, though. He left. I woke up alone.”
“Shadow creatures probably can’t stick around during daylight. Too much energy or something.” Felix waves a hand dismissively. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because from the look on your face, last night was wild. He’s gonna want to tap that again.”
I don’t have an answer for that. Because what the hell do you say to that? I doubt there is an appropriate response in the entire English language.
So I mumble something about the flapjack display, and get busy with work.
The morning rush is brutal. Endless orders and impatient customers, and my mind is definitely not on making perfect cappuccinos. I mess up three orders in a row and have to remake them. Felix covers for me, handling the register while I focus on not burning down the espresso machine.
Around eleven, during a brief lull, the bell above the door chimes. I look up automatically, ready to greet whoever has just walked in.
Two men enter. Large. Broad-shouldered. Wearing expensive suits that don’t quite hide the muscle underneath. They look like they’ve walked straight out of a gangster film.
My stomach drops.
One of them lurks by the door and glares at the few customers who are sitting at tables. The customers quickly gather their things and flee. They know trouble when they see it.
As the last customer leaves, the man by the door grins and flicks the lock. The click echoes through the suddenly silent coffee shop.
Felix moves closer to me. I can feel his tension, the way his body has gone rigid and ready. I know he has a baseball bat somewhere, but I think it’s under the till. Five whole steps away. Maybe I can distract them so he can get to it?
The two men approach the counter slowly. Deliberately. Their footsteps heavy on the wooden floor.
“Can I help you?” My voice comes out steady somehow, even though my heart is hammering against my ribs.
The taller one leans in close. Too close. His breath smells of cigarettes and something sour.
“You disrespected our boss yesterday.”
Oh god. The customer. The one I refused to give a refund. He sent these men. He actually sent thugs to a coffee shop because I wouldn’t give him three pounds back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage.
“Don’t play stupid.” The second man moves around the counter, boxing me in. “You embarrassed Mr Peterson. Made him look like a fool in front of everyone. That’s not okay.”
“He was trying to scam us,” I say, but my voice is shaking now. “The coffee wasn’t cold. He was lying.”
