WARNING: This story contains strong language, depictions of violence, and depictions of domestic violence that may not be suitable for some readers.
I was used to being watched, but this was different. Heavier, somehow. It was the weight of eyes digging in between my shoulder blades, sending prickles up the back of my neck. I shifted my weight, fidgeting.
Was it...him?
I fought the urge to turn around, digging my phone from my pocket and double checking Vivi's order. Then I went on Instagram, scrolling absentmindedly, still aware of those eyes on my back. The line shifted forward.
A burst of raucous laughter made me glance over my shoulder. I got a partial glimpse of a man in the corner, his back to the wall. His massive frame was covered in tattoos and piercings. My neck prickled again; I squeezed my phone, fingers aching. I wanted to lean around and look at his face, but I didn't let my eyes linger.
The line shifted again. I inhaled, pushing down my irrational worry. It had been two years. Two fucking years, and my palms still turned sweaty when someone paid too much attention to me. "Not him," I breathed under my breath. But one day, it might be.
Fortifying my nerves, I exhaled through my nose, nostrils flaring, then shoved my phone in my pocket. I was safe. Safe and forgotten.
"Candy! Hey, girl!"
"Hey Tara." I grinned as I stepped forward. Candy wasn't my real name. It was Elle. Well, technically, it was Eleanor Rose Kennedy, but only a very few people knew that.
"Sorry about the wait. No Vivi today?" She gave a dramatic pout, possibly to hide her feelings. Tara and Vivi had been playing a game of cat and mouse for years.
"Just me today. She's busy packing."
"She's...wait, packing?" Her eyebrows drew together. "But...I thought we had girls night tomorrow?"
Behind me, an impatient throat cleared. I tossed a glare over my shoulder, directed at a middle-aged woman waiting with her arms crossed and lips pinched, before turning back to the cute blonde behind the counter. Tara had a short bob, blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. "Yeah...packing. It's a long story, but basically, family drama. Gunna to have to take a rain check."
Tara chewed on the inside of her cheek. "All right. Well, what can I get you? Dirty chai, venti?" I nodded. "White chocolate mocha for Vivi?"
"Also venti. Extra shot."
"Wow...okay."
"She's got a late night."
Tara snorted. "So do you, I'm guessing, with work? Everything's okay though, right? Should I call her?"
I hummed. "She'll probably be on a plane by the time you close up here. But you should definitely text her. I think she'd like that." I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
"Right. Okay." Tara gave a soft smile as her fingers flew over the touch screen, logging my order. "Seven-forty-two," she said before whispering, "employee discount."
I rolled my eyes. She grinned.
Completing the transaction, I shoved my wallet in my purse and moved to wait by the far counter. My eyes slid around the coffee shop again, this time stopping on the same man in the corner. Here, I had a direct line of sight. Our eyes met, forming a tunnel between us; everything else fell away, the entire fucking coffee shop disappearing. My lips parted, heat flushing my cheeks.
My brief glimpse hadn't done him justice. His muscular body barely fit in the chair, powerful denim clad legs protruding beneath the table. Even his coffee mug looked miniature in his hands, fingers covered in silver rings and tattoos. Holy fuck...his hands. My eyes darted over them, unblinking, lingering on the way he gripped his mug, strong and sure. Possessive.
Wariness was immediately replaced by something else as a lick of heat crept over my skin. I couldn't look away. Couldn't ignore the way his black T-shirt hugged layers of muscle, doing nothing to hide the sleeves of colorful tattoos flowing over his golden forearms, along his biceps, before disappearing beneath the fabric. Piercings lined his ears. There was a bar in his left eyebrow. And oh, God, he even had a ring in his septum.
Since when did I have a thing for piercings?!
My gaze finally landed on his hair and my stomach dropped low. It was black, long, falling just past his shoulders, but shaved clean on one side with artful tribal designs patterning his scalp. How could anyone be so terrifying and enticing simultaneously? Everything in me screamed, Look away, Elle! Look the fuck away! But my body betrayed me completely.
His magnetic green eyes dragged me back. The setting sun threw his features into sharp relief, showing off an angled chin, a broad jaw, and cheekbones sharp enough to cut. Beautiful—absolutely beautiful. I could practically taste him on my lips, like a heavy Cabernet Sauvignon twined with rich chocolate. Sinful and delightful and so fucking memorable.
Even in my line of work, I'd never seen anyone like him, with the power to stroke my insides at a distance, dragging invisible fingers over every sensitive part of me. His lips pulled up at one corner, just a twitch, like he knew exactly what I was doing—what I was thinking. I shivered, forcing myself to blink, breaking the spell. Time settled back onto its axis. That single blink was all it took. Every blood cell in my body dropped to my feet. I went completely still as a translucent image wavered over his body, settling into place. Ears elongated into sharp points, one of them peaking out beneath his long hair, now shot through with strands of deep green. Additional piercings appeared, his skin turned the color of brushed aluminum and his eyes...they turned completely black.
My stomach hardened into a rock.
His twitching mouth widened into a knowing smile. Pointed teeth appeared. I shuddered, then I blinked again and the image was gone, pointed teeth and all. Alarm bells went wild in my mind.
I jerked my gaze away, turning my head fast enough that my neck twinged. Forcing my legs to move, I inched closer to the drinks counter, fixing my gaze on the barista. I focused on his efficient movements.
Not human...
My hand flew to the charm pendant dangling from my neck. I untangled it from the other necklace I wore, a coin sized medallion, and began zipping it along its chain. Had I been too obvious? Would he know what I'd seen? That I'd seen through his glamor?
My eyes darted over everything in view, chaotic, unable to settle.
Exhaling, I forced myself to tune in to my surroundings, the smell of coffee, the sound of the grinder, the background jazz music, the din of conversation. But no matter how hard I tried, a renewed sense of wariness settled over me. Unfounded paranoia, more like. He was probably just staring at me because of my cotton candy pink hair.
I fished my phone from my pocket and texted Vivi, Getting our drinks! Be home in ten. This way, if I wasn't, if anything happened, she'd have a reason to worry. Then I checked my email and various social media accounts. I didn't see any of it, though. My surroundings constricted, tightening around me. Tighter. Tighter. I focused on my breathing. A quick glance showed drinks sliding onto the counter. The barista called out the order and a guy my age stepped forward, grabbing them.
Another deep breath. I tried not to fidget. Tried, and failed. I needed to get the fuck out of here.
"Dirty chai and a white chocolate mocha! For Candy!" Mark glanced up, our eyes connected, then he smiled and it did little to ease my nerves. Trying to appear calm, I strode forward and grabbed the drinks, quickly thanking him before speed walking out the door. I didn't look back once.
***
"Elle? Is that you?" Vivi's head popped out into the hallway. My keys plunked into the bowl beside the door. Her eyes landed on our drinks, hugged to my body. "Oh, thank fuck!" She flew forward, all but snatching hers from my arms.
"A goblin," I croaked.
That single word had bounced around in my head on the two-block-journey back to our apartment. Goblin. Goblin. Goblin.
"A...what?" Vivi's brow furrowed.
"I ran into Tara. She took my order. Asked about you, by the way. Seemed worried. But the whole time I was in line, he was staring at me. Like, staring-staring. I didn't see it at first. It usually takes time to see it. What he was. You should text her, by the way—Tara. She really did seem worried about you." I was rambling, practically incoherent.
"Wait...wait. Back up a second." Vivi took a sip and held up her other hand. "We'll get to Tara in a moment. Did you just say goblin?! Like...a real goblin? Sitting in Awake Coffee? Our Awake Coffee? The one we visit every day?" Vivi frowned. "You're sure?"
I nodded, then swallowed. My free hand jumped back to my charm pendant, zipping it along the chain. Vivi's eyes darted there, watching the motion. "Okay. All right. A goblin. But, we never get supernaturals in this neighborhood."
I snorted. She was right. In fact, Vivi wouldn't even know they existed if it weren't for me.
"I guess we do now."
"But...what was he doing here? Don't they, like, stay in their own parts of the city?" She knew where supernaturals did and didn't go—also thanks to me. Most humans had no clue supernaturals existed.
"No idea, and yes." I paused, desperate to forget this had happened, to forget the heavy feeling of those green eyes on my back and the way his gaze made me feel. The confusion it brought. I'd never been so frightened and aroused simultaneously. What the fuck was wrong with me?
I cleared my throat and said, "Did you finish packing? You're sure you don't need me to go with you to the airport?"
"I'll be fine, don't worry. And I'm just about finished."
"Is she going to be okay, do you think? Cameron?" Her sister, previously engaged until last night, and now heartbroken.
Vivi's shoulders fell, and her eyes softened. "I hope. I...she didn't give me details. I'm sure I'll get the full story when I get there, that lying asshole."
"And you'll text me?"
"Of course!"
We were awful gossips. Mostly because her fiancé, well, ex-fiancé now, was the stuff of fairytales. Or, he had been until this had happened. He was a handsome CEO of a successful startup that had gone public with the body of a god and a dimpled smile. Insert your favorite romance book here, was the kind of relationship they had, up until now, I supposed.
"I'll make sure to tell you everything." She took a long sip of her drink. "Mmm. God this is so good."
I let my smile widen. "I bet Tara would keep you plied full of those things if the two of you started dating."
Vivi snorted. "You know I see through all your attempts, right?"
"As long as you see them as attempts." I lifted a shoulder, grinning.
She scoffed. "I'm not looking for a relationship right now, Elle. Work, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah. Work-schmerk," I grumbled.
"I need to finish packing." She turned and disappeared.
I was left staring after her. I sighed, letting my earlier tension flee with my breath before trudging forward. I stopped in her doorway, leaning against the door jamb, watching her rush around, sipping my latte, savoring it. Vivi kept up an ongoing commentary of her packing choices. I offered a few nods here and there as she held stuff up in front of the mirror. There was no telling how long she'd be gone, acting as the support structure for her sister's failed relationship.
***
The next two hours passed in a blur until Vivi was out the door, meeting her ride share. I collapsed onto my bed, groaning. Everything still ached from this afternoon's mixed martial arts class; I could feel a couple of bruises forming on my skin. But it was a good ache, and they were good bruises, the kind I wasn't ashamed of. Unlike the other kind that I'd once spent too much effort trying to hide.
I stretched, lying on my back, before going limp on the mattress.
My room was my safe haven, my little slice of happy. I loved nothing more than locking myself away in here. Filled with a plush chaise lounge, a full bed, and a desk, I'd decorated it to suit my style with bright, neon pastel colors and throw pillows. The shag rug was a lovely shade of neon pastel blue, and the art on the wall practically glowed with depictions of illuminated city signs.
I sighed, running my hand down my body. Tingles followed as my traitorous mind drifted to the green-eyed goblin in Awake Coffee, forming a sudden ache deep between my legs. A sudden need. I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow, letting out a loud scream of frustration. One glimpse of someone I should fear—that's all it had been. One fucking glimpse! I would never see him again, and yet, now I couldn't stop thinking about him.
What the actual fuck?!
I knew what this was, and it was my fault—a result of suppressed need. It had been two years, but at what point was enough enough? My vibrator wasn't going to please me forever. I needed to move on. Get over my issues. I didn't do casual sex, and yet, I was too afraid to enter into any kind of relationship.
Sure, there had been attempts. A date here, kiss there. But I always freaked out and ended anything before it could start.
I hated the jealousy that bubbled up towards people who deftly handled one night stands. Why couldn't I be that person? There was nothing wrong with enjoying the pleasure of another without any strings attached. Why couldn't I do that?
I lay there, face smashed into the pillow, berating myself, all because that fucking asshole of a goblin had come onto my turf, into my neighborhood, and made me feel things I didn't want to feel. Well, fuck him! On my stomach, I slid my hand beneath me, beneath my yoga pants, past the waistband of my undies right to—
A blaring chime filled the room. "Motherfucker," I hissed, jerking my hand away.
My alarm.
I didn't know whether to be relieved or annoyed. Relieved, because it saved me from fingering myself to the thought of a goblin. Or annoyed, because I was denied my naughty thoughts of him. Thoughts of those hands and what they'd feel like on me. Better yet, the feel of his piercings as he rubbed his body over mine—
Ugh! I groaned. Grabbing my phone, I silenced it. I had sixty minutes to get ready for work. My shift started at eight and I needed time to get across the city. Vortex didn't open until nine, but we needed to prep for customers.
I pushed up from my bed and changed into the black denim cut offs and halter top I usually wore. Then I curled my hair until my cotton candy pink waves pooled around my head and flowed to the middle of my back, thick and flawless. There were no roots. I paid enough to keep it that way. To keep it perfect.
My phone buzzed. I picked it up, unlocking the screen. Just made it through security. Boarding soon!
I smiled at Vivi's text. That was fast! I typed back, then added, Text me before you take off. I'm heading to Vortex in a few.
Seconds later, she sent me a thumbs-up emoji.
I set about touching up my makeup, doubling down on eyeshadow and mascara until a flawless face stared back at me. Customer tips were always better when I looked good.
In the living room, I threw on the TV and set about making a quick dinner of lasagna leftovers. Vivi's lasagna was a drug. I carried my bowl towards the table, the newscaster speaking in the background. "...authorities have publicly released the identity the body found in her home last week as Professor Jane Miller—"
My eyes darted to the television, and I froze, mid-step, recognizing the selfie on the screen. I blinked. Blinked again.
...What?!
"Details are still under investigation into the motive behind her murder. Let's head over to WN's Doreen Morris for more."
The glass bowl slipped out of my hand and shattered on the floor. I hardly heard the sound as footage flashed onto the screen. It was Professor Miller's house, surrounded by yellow caution tape, a buzz of activity. The dark night accentuated the flicker of blue and red lights, authorities swarming about. The camera zoomed in on Doreen Morris. "Yes...thank you, Tania," she said. "Authorities have been tight-lipped about what happened last week, but additional evidence leads us to believe that Professor Miller's death was a premeditated act of violence. Evidence of a physical altercation and knife wounds indicate a struggle. A full autopsy is still underway, with no idea when or if the details will be released to the public. Witnesses say Professor Miller was seen leaving Walton University late last Monday afternoon but reported nothing unusual about her behavior. When she didn't appear for her evening lecture, worried students noted her absence to the authorities. The WBI is still looking into the details, but the question remains: What was the motivation behind such an attack? And is the university community safe?"
The footage flashed back to the newsroom before going to commercial. A small whimper escaped my throat. I reached for the remote, frantically fumbling with it before finding the power button. A wave of noise engulfed my brain, my blood pumping past my ears. Around me, the floor was a mess of broken glass and scattered red lasagna, almost like blood and guts. Some of it spattered my black boots. My stomach hardened into a knot. I stared at it, chest rising and falling.
My fingers twitched and my hand unconsciously reached for the medallion pendant at my neck. I clutched it, squeezing tightly. Professor Miller?
A sharp pain pierced my chest. It felt a lot like guilt. I inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, trying to think, to understand, to make sense of what I'd just seen.
My phone buzzed, jarring. I dropped my hand, releasing my necklace, and read Vivi's text. Just boarded. I'll text you when I land!
An ache built in my throat. I needed to tell her what I'd just seen. She hadn't known Professor Miller like I had—had only taken two courses with her—but she still needed to know. I started to type, but stopped, erased my words, started again. What was I supposed to say? Especially when she had enough to deal with, rushing off to be with her sister. She didn't need this bomb dropped on her.
I settled for, Have a safe flight. I'd tell her after she landed.
I glanced down at the mess on the floor again, then at the clock. My throat worked, swallowing against the acidic taste building. With one final swallow, I rushed to the kitchen and used a paper towel to clean my boots, then went for the door, grabbed my purse and keys, and fled.