Blood of the Devil

Chapter 2 - Breakfast at Bill's

When Letha and Hadrian left the house, it was just after 7:30. It was a cold morning, a thin layer of mist clinging to their jackets as they strode towards town. They walked in silence, neither comfortable nor awkward, and slipped into Bill’s fifteen minutes later. Bill’s Place was the favourite café of truckies, teenagers, and nearly everybody else in town. No one knew if there actually was or had ever been a ‘Bill’, but the owner, Mrs Nancy Cordell, was probably a better hostess than any Bill who ever lived.

Mrs Cordell was a plump brunette with kind green eyes and a bright smile. Mr Cordell was principle of the local high school, and could often be found buried in his office from when Bill’s opened at dawn, until it shut at 8. His name was Harry, not Bill.

Brother and sister slid into their usual booth, the farthest from the counter and most immersed in shadow. As they waited for their waitress, Letha ran her hands over the rough weave. For nearly every breakfast in the last year, Letha and Hadrian had practical thrown themselves from the house and into this booth. The girl who usually served them, Sarah Cordell, eldest daughter of the Cordell’s, drifted over. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and as she called a response to the last table she’d been at, generating lots of laughs, Sarah pulled her notepad from her apron.

“Hey Letha, hi Hadrian,” she said cheerfully, leaning against their booth, “Can I get you guys the usual?”

Sarah was, in Letha’s opinion, one of those annoying, genuinely popular people, who apparently didn’t display or notice animosity. Hadrian thought she was a goddess.

“Yes please, Sarah,” he chirped, grinning broadly at her.

She returned his smile, “Pancakes and syrup for you, Hadrian, with an orange juice…”

Hadrian nodded contentedly. Letha always had to resist the urge to tell him that Sarah probably knew the orders of lots of people, not just his. But the boy needed something to believe in, even if it was Sarah Cordell.

“…and a ham, cheese and tomato omelette with a green tea, Letha?”

Letha met her gaze and nodded, smiling politely for Hadrian’s sake. Sarah’s brow furrowed slightly and she squinted, her eyes resting on Letha’s cheek bone. Letha turned the injured side of her face from the waitress, scratching her neck as if unaware of the girl’s survey. Sarah recovered quickly and left them with a small smile at Hadrian.

Letting out a soft groan, Letha slipped further into her chair. She and Hadrian stared each other down until their food came. Neither of them was fond of small talk, and anything of importance was rarely said between them. Instead, they shared their lives always about to speak, but never inclined to. When the food did arrive, Letha had her cheek nestled in her hand, elbow on the table, prepared for being looked at. Sarah put their food down, but didn’t leave instantly, fidgeting around for a second. She glanced over her shoulder at her mother, who was nestled behind the counter pouring salt into shakers.

“Letha,” the girl said hesitantly, touching her shoulder. Letha looked up in surprise, her hand carefully in place against her face. It wasn’t often people directly spoke to Hadrian or herself beyond common courtesy; even Sarah Cordell.

As it was, the girl looked extremely embarrassed as she withdrew her hand, “Would you like an icepack for that?” Letha froze as Sarah gestured toward her face. She grated out a laugh.

“oh, this?” her hand moved aside quickly, but was cupping her face again soon, “eyeliner slip.”

Hadrian nodded empathetically, not lending her story any credence. He seemed to realise his mistake as Sarah’s eyes flickered to his serious expression. He forced a choked laugh.