Page 3 of Bad Blood Bear

At least the demon had receded for a while, and she felt almost normal. The waitress stopped by, her white Keds swishing on the ancient pink linoleum floor.

She glanced at Lissa’s plate. “You must have been hungry. Can I get you anything else, hon?”

Lissa shook her head. The waitress scribbled on her pad, then tore the check off and laid it face-down on the table.

“Um, can you tell me where the restroom is?” Lissa said. Her fingers were still sticky, and there were tiny scraps of napkin clinging to them where she’d tried to scrub them off.

“Down that hall.” The waitress pointed.

“Okay, thanks.” Lissa picked up the check and felt the blood drain from her face. $23.50? That was impossible. It had to be a mistake.

She looked at the handwritten scrawl. Three double burgers, rare. This had to be someone else’s check. She didn’t remember what she’d said, but she wouldn’t have ordered all that. She only had five dollars and change in her purse. She was about to call the waitress over and explain the mistake, when she looked down at her plate again. It was a mess, but there were definitely the remains of three buns scattered on it.

Shit on a shingle.

She dropped the check back on the table and headed for the restroom, trying not to look like she was hurrying. Inside, she washed her hands and face, her breathing getting fast like she was going to hyperventilate.

Calm down, she told herself. She had two choices here: dine and dash, or ‘fess up and throw herself on the mercy of the manager. In a little local place like this, sometimes they’d let you work off the cost of your meal, if you had no cash. Sometimes they even felt sorry enough for you that they’d just give you the meal for free.

But she couldn’t take the chance on trying to work it off. Not that she wouldn’t want the work—hell, she’d love it if they had a real job for her. But the first time she’d tried working after leaving Arkansas—after Brother Damien—well, it hadn’t ended well.

As in, she’d attacked the fry cook and left town just ahead of the police. At least, that’s what she could piece together from her blurred memory.

If the management felt like making a fuss about the money, they might call the cops on her. Especially since she’d already bitten one of their other customers.

It was just a tiny little bite. No blood, even. Like that would make a difference.

She couldn’t risk it. It would have to be dine and dash.

Lissa bit her lip. She hadn’t minded doing that when she was younger—it had always seemed like an adventure. Now she felt bad about it, but she’d still do it. You did what you had to. The problem was, it worked better in places like highway truck stops, where different people passed through all the time.

Once she’d done it, she’d have to avoid this place like the plague if she wanted to stay in town. And she’d found a nice squat here—a great squat, as a matter of fact. She’d counted on staying for a while, while she figured out what to do about her demon—or rather, her condition. Whatever it was.

She peeked out of the restroom. There was a door at the other end of the hallway leading to the outside. Really, it was like they were just asking for people to dine and dash.

She eased down to the nearer end of the hallway, by the dining room, stopping and looking into her purse as if counting her money. Really she was scanning the restaurant out of the corner of her eye to see if the waitress was looking for her.

Nope. Everybody was busy. Except the Incredible Hulk man, who was just getting up from his table.

Good. He was leaving. She knew she should go too, get out while she could, but something about him kept her watching. As big as he was, there didn’t seem to be an ounce of fat on him. His forest-green thermal shirt clung to his chest, showing off his monster pecs and a set of washboard abs, and his jeans hung low on his hips.

Want.

Oh, fuck. The demon again. Lissa tried to turn and leave, but the demon wanted to stay. Wanted him.

Wait. He was passing the front door. He wasn’t leaving. What the hell was he doing?

He stopped at her booth, picked up her check and looked at it. He glanced over his shoulder towards the restroom hallway, and Lissa ducked back out of sight. She waited a few seconds, then peeked out again.

The man had his wallet open. As Lissa watched, dumfounded, he pulled out a few bills and laid them on her table with the check.

Then he walked out the door without a backward glance.

Stuffing her money purse in her pocket, Lissa turned and fled.