Lucien blinked several times. “You mean, he isn’t with you? I haven’t heard from him today.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and slammed my hands on the counter. “Is he back there?” I nodded to the door. “Is he in the break room?”
Lucien backed away, waving his hands in the air. “N-no, of course not! There is no one…”
I let out a hiss and darted around the counter toward the back room. Lucien lunged after me, but too late—I was already shoving the door open with enough force to make it bang against the wall. The scent hit me immediately: lingering traces of something sweet mixed with oatmeal and cinnamon, other smells I couldn’t identify. There were a lot of lunches in here not long ago.
“You better not be lying to me, Lucien. Have you seen him or not?”
Lucien retreated to the far side of the room, shaking his head vigorously as he put as much distance as possible between himself and the door I'd just thrown open.
What was he doing?
The “don't be suspicious” voice from Parks and Rec repeated over and over in my head. Lucien was hiding something.
I growled; my inner Black Cat was coming out. “You know something, don’t you?”
Lucien shook his head again, his fingers twitching against each other like nervous insect legs. "No?" The word squeaked out as a question, betraying him.
I lunged toward him, and a sound like ripping silk escaped his throat—the same eerie noise Atlas made when startled. Apparently, all Mothmen shared that particular quirk.
I yanked Lucien's arm, triggering another round of those silk-ripping shrieks. A sudden gust of wind hit my face as he stumbled backward. When his balance failed, I seized the opportunity and grabbed his ankles. I dragged him toward the break room with all my strength. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, I caught sight of it—no longer human, but a wickedly curved claw.
Yup, Mothman.
He gasped. “No, please!” Lucien gasped with panicked eyes. “You can’t see me!”
I hissed again. “Relax, I know you are a Mothman, and this whole town is full of monsters.”
Lucien blinked. “You do? Wait, why? How?”
Lucien stopped struggling, and I released his foot. My skin crawled where I'd touched him, like I'd dipped my hands in something rancid. I bolted to the sink, cranked the faucet to full blast, and scrubbed until my palms turned pink.
“Kassie, how do you know?” Lucien asked again.
When I turned, Lucien loomed above me in his Mothman form, his fur a deeper chestnut than Atlas' black and gray. My skin crawled as he leaned in, like I'd touched something rotten. Every cell in my body screamed to get away from him, and I stumbled backward until my back hit the counter.
I rolled my eyes. "Come on. Look at me." I gestured down at my outfit—the skull-patterned tights under ripped shorts, the vintage horror movie t-shirt. "I collect scary movies and read monster smut. You think someone like me wouldn't notice when her town is crawling with monsters? I pay attention to things other people ignore." I stepped closer, my voice dropping. "Now tell me where Atlas is. I need to find him. Now."
My pussy fluttered, my clit felt like my heart was inside it.
Lucien recoiled, his antennae flattening against his head. "You reek of Atlas, but it's... overwhelming. Like someone dumped an entire vat of his scent on you." He gagged, his tongue unfurling involuntarily as he turned away.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I gathered that much. Atlas and I got down and dirty, and apparently, everyone but me can smell the evidence. Look, I need to find him right away, or I’m gonna hump an electrical pole. He's completely ghosting me—no calls, no texts, nothing."
Lucien shrugged. “He hasn’t been with me either. I don’t have a clue; that's why I thought he was with you. So, you know you did stuff with Atlas then, as a moth?
“Of course I did! Why else do you think I’m after him?!” I swiped a pretend claw at him.
Lucien squealed. "I don't know! He thought you believed it was just a dream—that's why he felt brave enough to... you know. And clearly he marked you with more pheromones than any Mothman has ever—" He fluttered his antennae nervously.
I slammed my fist into Lucien's stomach, only to have pain shoot up my arm. "Son of a—" I cradled my throbbing knuckles against my chest, wincing as I flexed my fingers.
“I am not as soft as Atlas; this is pure muscle.” Lucien rubbed his hand up and down his slightly furred stomach. “And yes, a dream. Since you know that was Atlas, you know you did stuff with a Mothman, and you were okay with it.”
I stared at him.
“Right. Don’t know where he is then. Good luck looking for him. If I see him, I will see if I can find you. Don’t tell anyone you know about monsters, otherwise there will be… issues.”
