I growled and stomped around him to leave. “What sort of issues?”
Lucien's antennae twitched as a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Think about it, Kassie. A town like this survives on secrecy. If word gets out about what we are..." He leaned closer, voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Atlas would be the least of your problems. Monsters protect what's theirs, and they won't hesitate to make troublemakers... disappear."
I did not give a flying flickity fuck. I would call out a damn shifter, a headless man, a crazy tooth fairy to find Atlas.
How dare he leave me like this!
I stormed down Main Street with my jaw clenched, checking behind every parked car and peering through every shop window. The Mothman couldn't have just vanished into thin air… though technically, I supposed he could have flown away.
Could he be at his place? Where did he even live? Wow, way to go, Kassie. You rubbed yourself all over a Mothman, but don’t even know where he lives. Hell, you don’t even know where he’s been. He could have flown all over the world, and you didn’t know it either.
Ugh, Atlas could be in another dimension for all I knew! I growled under my breath, causing a few passersby to give me a wide berth. Good, I wasn't in the mood for small talk or polite smiles.
My phone stayed silent, no matter how many times I checked it. No calls, no texts from Atlas. I shoved it back into my pocket,resisting the urge to throw it against the nearest wall. I needed to think, to figure out where he could be.
The library? No, he’d worry about knocking something over. Besides, he told me he picked up his books rather than go inside.
The diner? Maybe, but it was always packed this time of day, and he wasn’t a fan of crowds, but it was the closest place I could go in to look.
I tugged at my shirt, trying to create some space between the damp fabric and my skin. My bra felt like a torture device, the underwire digging into flesh while my nipples strained painfully against the cups.
I pushed through the glass door, bell jingling overhead. The scent hit me first—grilled butter and coffee and syrup. Red vinyl booths lined the windows, each table topped with those little metal napkin dispensers and glass sugar shakers. Black and white tiles stretched across the floor in perfect squares, leading to a counter where chrome-edged stools were bolted to the ground.
A small boy in a striped t-shirt slurped the last of a chocolate malt through his straw, the sound punctuated by the rhythmic thump of his sneakers against the metal base of his stool.
Across the diner, a woman leaned into a man's shoulder, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she watched him wiggle his fingers beneath their little boy's chin. The boy giggled, kicking his feet wildly while the man's other hand traced slow circles on the woman's knee, his wedding band catching the light each time he moved.
Why did kids seem so cute all of a sudden?
Am I fucking ovulating???
I scanned the diner, but no sign of Atlas. Maybe he was hiding in the men's room? Worth a shot. As I made my way between the tables, I noticed something odd… every guy in the place swiveledhis head toward me like I was a magnet and they were made of metal.
Their hands grabbed onto the table, the strength in the grasp of the wood startling me when I walked by.
A waitress turned around, from taking an order and saw me. Her hair was tied up in a bun, her tawny skin shimmered under the harsh lights. “Something wrong, hun?” She came toward me and noticed the men staring at me. “Are you lookin’ for someone?”
“Atlas.” Was all I could say. “He wears a red plaid shirt every day, real quiet… he…”
The waitress's lips curled into a smile. "Oh, Atlas! Sure, honey. Comes in like clockwork for his pancakes. Always drowns 'em in syrup and picks through his fruit bowl like he's searching for treasure." She twirled her pen between her fingers, her gaze drifting dreamily toward the ceiling. "That man is something else. Can't believe he's still flying solo, if you know what I mean."
I curled my upper lip to reveal my fake fang, the plastic edge catching the diner's fluorescent light.
She tucked her pen behind her ear. "Oh, honey, are you and Atlas an item?"
"Yes." The word came out like a growl, darker than I'd meant it to be.
She gave a low whistle and sashayed away. "Haven't spotted him today, but good luck with that tall drink of water, sweetheart."
I frowned. She was so much prettier than me. Would Atlas want her more?
I slapped myself in the face.Get over yourself and your pity party!
I scanned the diner one more time, ignoring the stares and the waitress's innuendo. The men were still gripping their tables, knuckles white, eyes intense.
Did I stink that bad?
I shuddered, attributing their behavior to whatever stinky pheromones Atlas had left on me.
