The girl behind the register looked vaguely familiar — I thought I'd seen her around one of my classes — and she gave me a tentative smile after I was done sweeping the place for any warning signs. I tried my best to return the gesture, feeling even more out of place in the hipster scenery, so I quickly ordered the usual recipe.
I had to stop my mouth from watering at the sight of the blueberry muffins the girl — Katie, her tag said — placed on a tray between us. Only then I remembered I had not a single penny on me.
‘Two homemade blueberry muffins, a double shot of espresso with almond milk, and a caramel cream cappuccino?’
I gave her a nod, my eyes darting over the few souls present in the shop. They were students, ducked into their phones or laptops, not paying a grain of attention to Katie or me. Good.
‘That'll be eleven dollars fifty, please.’ Katie's hospitality was not genuine, even if her face did a great job at selling her feigned enthusiasm. She was tired and annoyed and her impatience grew as I took a few extra seconds to respond.
‘I already paid,’ the charm was thick in my voice, even if I was whispering with tension. ‘You mistook me for someone else. You've never seen me before and you don't think I'm worth paying any more attention to.’
Katie stared at me with glazed over, green eyes and blinked a few times after I leaned back and took the tray into my hands to keep them from twitching. Her turmoil of feelings had reduced to a dull, neutral one. I felt my heartbeat buzzing along the string of power I'd pulled on, made sure I didn't give Katie another look, and moved through the few tables to the one in the back.
When I sat down, with the adrenaline dying on the spot, the absolute exhaustion eagerly took its place. I shrugged off the hoodie, straightened out the shirt I wore underneath, and fingercombed my hair back into a ponytail. It was the goal not to freak Beck out too much.
The muffin tasted stale and did little more than take the edge off of my hunger as I mentally prepared what I was going to tell my roommate. My friend. I could make up plenty of stories, I wasn't a stranger to lies, but Beck was not an easy believer. In any way, I'd probably end up having to glamour her, as I'd done with Katie.
The simplest trick in the book. The first faerie—thing I'd ever learned ; because it came almost naturally, even if it only worked on humans. You could tell them they were seeing the Eiffel Tower right in front of them as they stared at a brick wall, or ask them to eat sand while they believed they were savoring a three—course—meal.
Glamours worked on changing your own appearance, too. In my case, I'd never done it to turn into anyone else ; I'd simply toned down any aspect that made me less human. My slightly pointed ears, however, were now only covered by strands of unruly hair.
I hadn't used a glamour on Beck before. A part of me didn't enjoy it, even if I opted for the right means. It was cruel in a way. People were entitled to think what they thought and feel what they felt and see what they saw. They were already blindsided. It felt like I had stolen something from Katie, which I had, and I knew that doing a similar thing to Beck — like making her forget ever meeting me, or telling her we had a huge fight and she didn't wish to see me ever again — was going against everything I'd promised myself when I chose to go to college. When I chose to be human.
I perked up at the sound of the door, expecting to see Beck's flushed—with—cold face, but was met with a figure whose skin was gray as ash, its elongated teeth sprouting from a large mouth and claws the size of a child's arms dangling from a broad, hideous body.
I blinked and the creature simmered into a middle—aged man with a deep—lined face and heavy frown, only twisting back into the horrid fae when I focused — spiking my heartbeat right back into survival mode.
Katie, who was doubtlessly seeing the middle—aged man and not the beast hiding underneath, gave him her ghost of a smile and asked for his order — but his gaze remained trained on me.
Those black, soulless, void—of—any—emotion eyes, stared right through my every layer and bored into my head with a force that made me want to jump right through the window — but I was unable to move, unable to blink, unable to breathe as I was met with a power I'd only felt a caress of before.
He lifted one, clawed hand into my direction, and I felt my limbs spasm, moving without my saying so, sending cold shocks of panic right down my spine.
No
No
No!
I kicked at the table, tipping over the coffee cups, but the heat did not even register on my leg as I tried everything to keep myself from getting closer to it. Nobody in The Cracked Mug looked up at my grunts, my hysteric struggling, they had no idea what was happening around them, making me realize I was truly on my own on this one.
I am going to die right here, right now.
I trashed against the mental chokehold the creature held over me, throwing every bit of power I could think of into my hands, convulsing under the reluctant magic that woke under my pleading exasperation: because I begged, begged, for it to do something. Anything.
I did not want to go like this.
Comments (0)
See all