Page 55
Story: Till Death and Daisies Bloom
“There is a rumbling in the force...” I mumbled to no one, squinting through my shades to ensure I had the right building.
Eternal Matches.
“How droll.”
I sat myself outside at a small metal table across the street. What the humans passed as ‘coffee’ nowadays was appalling. Oh, to have coffee fresh from the mountain source in Yemen! Absolutely divine!
But alas, I must make do.
“Caramel macchiato,” I uttered to the waitress. She turned to leave and I couldn’t help myself at the smell emanating from the small cafe.
“And a chocolate chip cookie. Make it two.”
My sin purred happily under my veins. I tried to indulge in the most harmless of ways when available to me.
The waitress gave me a knowing wink and walked off.
Nothing better than a warm chocolate chip cookie...
I frowned at the odd tension that continued to hang in the air, and dismissed it as I could find nothing amiss.
I’d meant to bring all of this up subtly at the family dinner, just to test my younger brothers to see if they could sense the shift and discontent around them. Shifting through the chaotic magick levels of the earth was part of the job, and the sooner they could regulate their sins, then sooner we could try to get everything back to a manageable level.
Waking gods, indeed.
And had I gotten a chance to turn dinner into a lesson like I’d wanted? No, of course not. The entire thing had gone off the rails into a conversation aboutsome girl.
My ego still stung from the barb Lust had thrown at it. Purposefully, to deflect the argument about the human girl, but still.
“I’ll have a caramel macchiato, please.”
My head whipped around as a woman sat down at the table behind me and ordered. I closed my eyes and summoned my short-term memory, which as a vampyre could catalogue and store everything around me with my conscious attention.
Delicately, I reached out with my magick to touch her aura.
Witch. Powerful. And...oddly fresh.
The waitress brought my order and I managed a stiff smile, my fingers curling around the plastic cup and relishing the heat.
Was this her? The witch reanimated by Pride, employed with Lust, and being hunted by Envy?
I hated people. I only conversed with my brothers, and those I must for business. Casual conversation wasn’t something I tolerated. Which made it further shocking when I leaned backward toward her and opened my stupid, stupid mouth.
“There isn’t much actual coffee in it,” I drawled.
Her head snapped up at me angry and irritated, an insult likely already on her lips. But when she saw me she froze for a split second, her face softening. Then it hardened again.
“And?” she rudely shot back.
Oh ho, she had fire in her. Just like–
I stuffed all such thoughts down deep, where they’d never see the light of day.
“And...just thought you should know,” I finished lamely, distracted by the small strands of red that flashed in her hair, likely only visible when the sunlight caught them just so. Large, expressive eyes flashed a dozen different emotions at me, before settling on scorn.
She snorted. “I suppose the only ‘proper’ cup is straight black?”
Her anger was odd, but understandable. I used that tone myself when talking to other people, so I was not put off by her demeanor.
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