Dating Ava was a wholly different experience than any of Tara’s previous relationships. Ava had unlimited energy, unlimited curiosity and, apparently, zero understanding of what was appropriate for a serious, grown-up relationship. A month had passed since she had asked Tara to be her girlfriend officially and she had grasped some concepts well, such as spending considerable amounts of time together, having a lot of sex, going on dates after work and even giving Tara the pet name of ‘Tiara’. However, Tara found herself having to explain on multiple occasions that Ava could not have every single moment of her free time, that it was normal for Tara to be unable to respond to or pick up her phone for a few hours and that “I have work in the morning” does really mean ‘no sex’.

All in all though, they were making progress. As a first-timer, Ava was learning her way around real relationships slowly but surely and Tara was happy with how she was being treated and… handled. She could not complain about her sexual needs being met, she had actually upped her calorie intake to meet the stamina requirements she found she was needing to keep up. Ava had no such problem, she always had the strength to keep going.

She also excelled in every activity she attempted on their dates, despite always claiming it was her first time. It made Tara wonder what kind of upbringing this woman had had if she’d truthfully never gone bowling, ice-skating, roller-blading, played pool, or spent the afternoon on any kind of activity course where you climbed trees with wires clipped to you and walked over suspended bridges (Tara had been particularly crap at that but at least she had an excuse to cling to Ava the entire time like a bush baby). It seemed like an odd thing to lie about so Tara decided Ava must simply be one of those super outdoorsy-types that can excel in anything physical or taxing. Tara was more the cosy-type that excels at sitting still for long periods of time while knitting or reading.

It was her turn to plan their next date (they usually did one meal out in the week and then an activity at the weekend, plus nights in at Ava’s flat when Imogen was working all night) and she was hoping to combine their abilities into one fun-filled day. She had read about a hiking trail that led through beautiful woodlands and up a tall grass-covered hill with a picnic area at the crown. They could relax on a huge blanket with books and pillows and curl up together when it got chilly (which was most of the time these days but if they started early she hoped they would get a few hours of warmth). They could eat chunky sandwiches and fruit cut into pretty shapes-

“Turn around slowly and open the till,” a harsh voice barked behind her, knocking her daydreams out of her open mouth. Tara turned slowly on the spot, mouth still agape and cleaning rag in her hand from where she had been wiping down the counter that they kept the blenders on. A man with a patchy beard, a black wool beanie, and teeth that couldn’t seem to sit together naturally was stood on the opposite side of the checkout counter, a snarl pulling at his ragged features. A knife longer than Tara’s hand was pointed at her, hovering over the till.

“I- um-”

“You speak English?”

Tara managed to gasp out, “yes.”

“Then open the fucking till.”

“I-I’m doing it now,” she squeaked and punched the ‘change’ button to open the cash drawer. Nothing happened. She jabbed it again, harder, fear bubbling up her throat as she realised it had jammed up again. When the till got jammed she usually had to wait for Shawn to arrive for his shift in order to pry it open. She would be alone in the cafe until two, and it was eleven.

The scruffy man backed away, knife still raised, until he reached the front door. He kept his eyes on her as she kept pressing buttons frantically and slid the bolt across at the very top of the door, locking it from the inside.

“The till is jammed, I’m going to try the other one,” Tara called to him as calmly as she could and sidestepped to their other till with her palms raised, showing no deception. In all of their robbery training they were always advised to just hand over the cash, and given they were a small business in a quiet area, that wasn’t much anyway.

He gave a half-nod and growled, “hurry up.”

As Tara lowered her hands to the buttons, he began moving back towards her with knife raised to chest-level. Her eyes flickered anxiously up and down between her fingers clumsily bumping buttons and his jerky steps in her direction. On the third glance, her eyes snapped to a figure approaching the front door. She returned her focus to the till again, feeling grateful that the door was locked and an unsuspecting customer wouldn’t accidentally stumble into this mess. She just hoped they would give up after finding the door locked.

With a particularly firm jab of her finger, she finally heard the satisfying tinkle of the cash drawer opening and stepped back to allow it to open. The man had become restless, shifting from foot to foot in front of her, knife bouncing in his hand. She began to pull the notes out first, placing them onto the counter in piles of their denominations. The ring of the bell signalling the front door opening froze her hands and drew her eyes back up to look past the man’s shoulder. It had to be the breeze of the AC, it wasn’t possible to open a door that had been deadbolted from the inside without busting it down, but Tara’s surprise forced her to look regardless.

Ava stepped into Jessi’s Java and pushed the door closed behind her, pulling across the deadbolt to lock it just as the man had done previously. Just the way it had been locked when she entered. As Tara struggled to process the impossible action she had just witnessed, hands still clutching bunches of five-pound notes, Ava’s eyes snatched hers. No matter how hard Tara tried, she could not break her gaze away, forced to watch her girlfriend stalk towards her and the now very agitated man. But she could no longer hear his snarling voice. She could no longer move her body. Black eyes held Tara in place until her own vision began to darken at the edges, until all she could see was black. Ava’s sharp eyes consuming her.

A gentle shake pulled Tara from the black fog she had been enveloped in, from a sleep she had not realised she had been held by. The ceiling of Jessi’s Java swirled into slow focus in front of her eyes, the cold tiles pressing into her lower back while her top half was laid across a warm lap. Ava leant over her, brushing her forehead with two fingers tenderly.

“Wh-what happened?” Tara gasped as her entire body broke out in a cold sweat, as though a sudden wash of fear was hitting her at a delay.

“You fainted,” Ava said simply and pulled Tara up a little by her armpits so that she was sitting up in her lap instead of laying messily. Tara twisted at the waist to peer up at her girlfriend’s face and curled her hands into her shirt. She couldn’t translate the expression on Ava’s face. “Don’t worry, there were no customers around and I put the ‘closed’ sign on the door,” Ava reassured her quietly.

“I… I’ve never fainted before.”

“It can happen to anyone.”

Something about the dismissive way in which Ava responded irked Tara, it didn’t sit right with her.

“But…we… we were getting robbed,” she recounted slowly, her memories clarifying themselves in her mind at a delayed pace.

“Robbed?” Ava’s voice was too high.

“There was a man. He had a knife. The till got… jammed.” As Tara said the word ‘jammed’ she slowly dragged her eyes to the till in question. It was closed, the screen reading ‘Welcome to Jessi’s Java! What can we get ya?’ in a scrolling text from left to right.

“I think you had a strange dream while you were unconscious.”

“It felt real,” Tara mumbled.

Ava shrugged with a sad smile. “I wish I could help you there, Tiara, but I just came in to get a coffee and you dropped like a sack of potatoes right in front of me.” She pulled Tara more tightly into her arms, a squeezing cuddle in her lap that would have embarrassed her if they weren’t hidden from street view behind the till counter. She felt like a child being comforted, being advised through affection to quiet down and forget it., not to make a fuss.

“You were there,” Tara whispered as more of the moments before she blacked out came back. “You appeared so fast… and walked right in even though the door was locked.”

“Why would the door have been locked?”

“The man locked it.”

Ava said firmly, “but there wasn’t a man.”

They stared each other down for a few moments. Tara wanted desperately to let it drop, to just agree with Ava and move on. But her gut was twisting and she knew, innately, that something was wrong.

Tara kept her voice as low and controlled as she could manage with her nerves as frayed as they were. “You’re lying to me,” she said.

“Why would I lie to you?”

“Because weird stuff always happens when you’re near. You’re trying to cover up my eyes so I don’t work out what’s going on.”

“What is going on?” Ava sounded genuinely curious in her question. Her body language seemed to Tara to be conveying a slight nervousness but with a desire to hear and engage with her, holding her gently and looking her in the eyes, massaging her clothed skin in circular motions with her thumbs and breathing evenly despite an anxious tint to her eyes. It was as though… Ava wanted Tara to connect the dots but couldn’t give her the pen to do so.

“I… I’m not sure.”

As Tara had expected, this invoked a disappointed dip of Ava’s lips, confirming her instinct that Ava was hoping for her to guess correctly. A secret she wanted Tara to know but couldn’t tell. “Well, until you have a theory for me to disprove, we should probably focus on getting you checked by a doctor.” As she spoke to she attempted to pull back and stand, lifting Tara with her.

Tara’s hand shot out and grabbed Ava’s arm, her skin was hot. “Wait, why can’t you just tell me?” she pleaded desperately. It wasn’t fair, she wanted to know the truth.

Ava’s obsidian eyes cycled through dismissal, curiosity and pain before she found her response. “Because… it would only put you in danger.” She lowered them back to the ground and Tara felt an ounce of success, she was getting somewhere. She wasn’t sure where, but it was progress.

“Are you in a gang?” Tara whispered, voicing the first theory that popped into her frazzled mind.

Ava laughed loudly. “No, I’m not in a gang - do I look like a thug to you?”

“No, but you do look scary sometimes,” Tara admitted.

“Good, that’s the goal.”

“Who are you trying to scare?”

“Anyone who gets too close.”

“Am I getting too close?”

“Yes.” She sighed tiredly. It wasn’t what Tara had wanted to hear. “But, I can’t find it in me to… push you away. Not with any real effort anyway. I’m a horrible, selfish creature and I’m letting that put you in harm’s way.”

“I don’t think you’re horrible or selfish,” Tara mumbled weakly.

“You don’t know what I’m inadvertently getting you involved in.” Ava’s voice was the softest Tara had ever heard it, tinged with pain.

“The more I know, the more wary I’ll be,” Tara insisted, turning her body the final forty-five degrees in her seated position to look up into Ava’s face fully. She needed her girlfriend to take her seriously. “You can’t protect me by keeping me in the dark.”

A long, thick and stomach-twisting pause held them in its clutches, both women analysing the other’s face intensely. Tara’s resolve swung back and forth, part of her screaming to break the silence, to give Ava an out. But would she have another chance like this? To demand the truth and possibly even get it?

“Tara, I’m a demon.”

Frustration simmered under Tara’s skin and she huffed, “Ava, I already said I don’t think badly of y-”

“No, Tara, I mean biologically.”