My body screamed:Danger, get away. This…girl…woman…whatever…was poison. My legs tensed to catapult me through the roof.
I forced myself to stay put. Since when did I run away?
Relax. Look tough but nonchalant.
Who the hell was she? Why was she here?
She had been only the stuff of hallucinations, but now she was standing in the doorway.
The girl walked through the foyer into the dining room and stopped by the counter. Water dripped from the hem of her slicker and soaked her green sweatpants.
Everyone else in the restaurant seemed to have vanished and it was only her and me.
My hands trembled.
Control yourself, Felix. Don’t let her see you panic.
She had no weapon that I could see. In any other circumstance, a quick bite to her tender neck was the most I’d need to keep her in place. If that didn’t work, I’d use the.45. The advantage was mine.
Her right eye twitched again. She blotted her eye. When she lowered her hand, those eyes were no longer threatening but uncertain and vulnerable.
Her spell on me dissolved, slowly.
I looped a hand around my coffee cup to feel the warmth. The others in the restaurant came back into focus: the two hunters at a booth, the four geriatrics at their table, the bitchy waitress marching by with a carafe.
The girl took a halting step. She looked afraid.
Good. She needed to be afraid of me.
Keep looking tough.
I had to see what this woman was. Human? Supernatural? If so, what kind? What did she want? My hands flinched upward to remove my contacts but I hesitated. Too many witnesses.
The girl leaned from one foot to the other as if debating whether to leave or to approach me.
She crossed the floor. Her gaze became fragile. A wrong move on my part and she’d be out the door.
I didn’t dare so much as blink.
She stopped beside my booth. Her eyes were a rich honey brown and shiny with fear. This close, I could see fresh pimples on her chin and in the crease along her left nostril.
A teenager. I’d been terrorized by a teenage girl with bad skin.
She reached for the top of her slicker. Was she going for a weapon?
I crossed my arms and set my elbows on the table. I curled my hands and readied my talons.
Without a word, she unzipped her slicker and took a seat on the opposite side of my booth. Her green sweat top said Morada Panthers in yellow script. Water seeped from the folds of her jacket and puddled around her elbows. Her fingers were red and her knuckles white from the outside cold.
She acted scared of me, yet she had come this close.
What did she want?
She took a deep breath and clenched her fists as if steeling herself for a dangerous jump. Her right eyelid blinked repeatedly, semaphoring her anxiety. She put her hand on her upper cheek to keep the eye still.
I smiled to try and put her at ease. After all, I wasn’t exactly bad company. At least not in public.
The girl said, “Felix Gomez.”
It was the voice that echoed through my hallucinations. It was like a spike had been hammered into my head.
She added, “I know what you are.”
The girl had said what, not who.
The fear returned and my fangs throbbed against the inside of my upper lip.
Her eyes widened as she continued. “You are a vampire.”