The words puttered out of me. “Yes, of course! I need like a quad.”
He pulled out a stool.
“Thanks,” I said, plopping onto the seat.
“Hey, G!” a waitress called from the other end of the bar, flashing a big, toothy grin. She poured a round of coffee, wiping up stray stains with a rag.
“What’s up, Frey?” He removed his beanie, placing it on the counter. The pointy tips of his ears poked through his hair.
Surprise inched its way up my throat, but I wouldn’t let it out. I shook my leg, the tip of my shoe tapping against the subway-tiled wall.
Clearing dirty plates along the way, the waitress made her way over, her steps so fluid and graceful she might as well have been performing ballet. “I was wondering when you were going to make it in. Long night?”
Gunnar pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “You have no idea.”
She grabbed a scrunchie off her wrist, pulling her long, strawberry locks into a pony. A line of silver hoops stamped her cartilage, all the way up to where the top of her ears came to a sharp point.
I tried—I really did—but I could just feel my eyes tripling in size and the air escaping my lungs. I’d seen enough movies, read enough books, even heard Shanley speak about them briefly to know…
Elves. These were elves.
She tilted her head at me, cheeks flushed from exertion as she hefted the stack of dirty plates to her hip. “Who’s this?”
“This is River. She’s staying at the hostel.” He swiveled in my direction. “River, this is Freyja.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice guarded.
A fold appeared between her brows. Shit. I was staring.
“Nice to meet you too,” I said quickly.
Gunnar propped up his elbows, resting his weight on the counter. “Can we please get two quadruple cappuccinos, Frey?”
“You got it.” With a wink, she drifted gracefully over to the espresso machine, wiping her hands on her apron.
“So, River,” Gunnar drawled, “what brings you to Reykjavík?”
“It’s…” Of course he’d ask that. Anyone would. It was an obvious, normal, question—but one I stupidly hadn’t planned an answer to. “I have a relative here. Uh, extended family. Well, more like a family friend…”
“Your drinks.” Freyja dropped two steaming mugs in front of us.
That was quick. Supernaturally quick.
Eager to have an excuse to dodge the question, I grabbed mine and took a sip. The rich, earthy notes settled on my tongue. “This is the best thing I have ever tasted.”
“Traveling will do that,” she laughed, heading to a customer flagging her from the other side of the bar.
Gunnar looked at me expectantly.
“Yeah, so that friend, she’s kind of like a great aunt? I just graduated”—lie. You’re a liar, River—“so I thought I’d come out here… to visit and explore. I’ve never been out of the country before.”
“Does she live in the city center?”
“No, she’s…” My fingers twisted in my lap, the edges of my nails scraping together.
Ugh, why was I so jittery? I was oceans away from home, the Finland wolves hadn’t reported any suspicious behavior, nobody here knew who or what I was…
Unlocking my phone, I pulled up the browser, the tab still open on the map. A marker hovered near the watchtower coordinates. “She lives out here, somewhere.”
