Page 69 of An Espresso Machine’s Guide to Love & Mischief

“Okay, okay. But what about you?”

“I can handle myself,” Asgard says.

I’m not sure he can, given that I found him locked up in a cage. But before I can stop him, he bursts into a run straight out of the cockpit and to the helm. He punches one of the kidnappers and throws him overboard faster than I can blink. The others haven’t made it aboard our yacht yet, so he leaps onto theirs and lands in a roll.

Go, go, go! McKay shouts.

I take a step toward the cockpit door to go after him. I have to help him. I can’t watch him get hurt or killed like that skunk who tried to rescue me. My heart feels like a ship’s hull cracking just before it starts to sink.

Diva, McKay says gently, I know how much this hurts. I can feel it. But you don’t want his sacrifice to be in vain. You promised you’d get out of here.

I swallow hard and turn back to the controls. It takes every last bit of willpower I have to force myself to push the throttle. The yacht speeds up, and I glance over my shoulder as a gang swarms someone on the kidnappers’ deck. I can’t see who it is from here, but I know it’s Asgard.

I can still go back and… but what would I do? I can barely control my limbs, and I promised to stay safe.

How is it that since I died, I can’t ever help the people around me? Instead, they always seem to end up taking care of me. I used to be an ass-kicking Diva, if I do say so myself, and now that I have a body to work with, I can’t even tell if I need to poop.

I turn my back on the kidnappers’ yacht—and the man who saved me—and slump into the chair.

You made the right choice, McKay says.

I don’t reply as I motor toward the mainland.

Chapter 32

Diva

I abandon the yacht and push the cart with the espresso machine toward the hotel where Neph and I are staying. I have a vague idea of where I’m going, and I can always ask for directions if I get lost.

The downtown streets are packed and the city is brimming with nightlife. Brightly lit restaurants and bars line Richmond Street, buskers sing on street corners, and the streets are packed.

I’ve dreamt of coming to the city while I was stuck making espressos at Jewels Cafe, but now I wish I’d never come. The only good thing about the whole situation is that I’m in a body, which means I can eat for the first time in over a year—I’m just not hungry.

My stomach feels like it’s twisted into knots. How can I even think about food when Asgard sacrificed himself to save me?

Watch out, McKay cries, and I realize I’m about to plow into a woman who suddenly stopped in front of me.

She’s staring at the sidewalk, and I look past her. The pavement is littered with flowers and candles, and when I realize why, my heart stops cold. In the center of it all is a bloodied rat flattened by tire tracks. Crushed electronics that I think used to be a tiny phone are strapped to his belly, and a single red rose rests in his paws.

My heart feels like it’s being squeezed by ice-cold hands.

That poor rat. I’d been so drawn to him in the subway. But maybe it’s a different rat, I try to convince myself. The city probably has millions of rats. Or maybe it’s the same one. If it is, I’m too late to save him. Had he been a shifter, like the raccoon and the skunk?

I drop my head and keep walking.

Everyone’s dead, I tell McKay.

She sighs. It’s just a rat.

I slouch. I don’t have the energy to correct her.

And Asgard might be okay, she adds. Raccoons can swim.

“He’s not a fucking raccoon!” I shout. “He’s a man. A selfless man who risked his life to rescue me.”

A few people glance at me, but they just speed up and keep walking. No one checks if I’m okay.

What did I expect? In the city, no one gives a fuck. This isn’t some small supernatural town where everyone knows everyone’s business.