Page 16

N ot going to lie, I was pretty proud of myself, snapping at Ryder, until my ankle twisted with the jump out of his truck.

The whimper definitely undercut my badassery, but it wasn’t my fault my fury had cancelled out my brain’s ability to judge the truck’s deceleration.

Real cool, River. Real cool.

As the thrums and hums of downtown filled the air around me, the Chevrolet’s sputter mixed with the urban sounds—the last thing I’d let myself do was look back, so I couldn’t tell if Ryder bounced or stuck around.

Not sure why I cared anyway.

Stalking through the door of Kona Koffee, my anger kept me from focusing on much else.

That’s why when I heard, “River, what’s up?” It completely stopped me in my tracks.

I may have blamed my exit on training her—I didn’t think she’d actually be here.

Closing by herself, after working there for like…

a day.

I forced a smile that hurt my insides.

“Hey, Shanley. I needed a minute. Is Tom around?”

“Nope.” She shook her head.

Phew. My shoulders dropped as if releasing an invisible weight.

“Thank God.” I flung myself to the closest bistro table and plopped into a curved plastic chair, resting my foot on the one next to me, unabashedly making myself at home.

Shanley took note of my sprawled-out posture.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

I didn’t have the chance to decline or accept, but I was glad she made the choice for me because I did need a coffee.

Stat.

Whipping out the grinder from the countertop rinsing station, she got to work, stopping everything to help me in the final stretch of her shift.

Her hustle, something she’d been lacking during our last shift, melted my cold, angry heart.

“Any preference?” She held up my milk options.

“Almond, please.” This time my smile was genuine.

She’d gotten the system down pretty fast: tamping the espresso grounds, locking the portafilter, steaming the milk without burning herself.

I hated when people watched my every move behind the counter, but I couldn’t turn away from her—her flannel twirled around her waist as she spun to grab things, bopping the buttons and tapping the granite as if the only way to tame her energy was to keep moving.

Either she’d had too much caffeine, or something was different…

I bit out a sigh. I was probably being paranoid.

I mean, I’d just been told that angels and demons existed—how could I not second-guess everything?

And the longer I watched…

the more unraveled she became.

The instruments shook with her erratic moves.

Under-eye bags dug like craters into her fair face, visible even in the dimly lit room.

She’d been a little unkempt when I’d met her, but that was different, on purpose—part of her style.

Tonight, she smelled a little huskier, her hair looked a little patchier, the blackness of her pupils dominated the blue.

She grabbed an opaque brown bottle from the mini fridge, dipped her head, and took a pull.

The flask perspired onto her fingers, like the sweat sprouting from her hairline.

It was struggle city over there.

“You feeling okay?” I tried to be nonchalant.

“Yeah, just out late last night.” Shanley offered a tight grin.

“Ah, hair of the dog that bit you then.” The goal had been to make her laugh, but not the forced kind she barked out as she handed me the drink.

I deflated a bit. “Thanks.”

My gaze lingered on her irises, which seemed to lose themselves in the moonlight before she went to sanitize the equipment for the second time that night.

Palms pushing off the tabletop, I attempted to stand.

“Here, let me help.”

“I don’t think so, girly.” She pointed for me to sit.

“You’ve got an ankle to nurse and a mochaccino to sip.”

She’d caught that?

It was the slightest limp.

But I lowered myself into the chair because this was exactly what I needed right now—a comradery with no strings attached.

“What are your plans tonight?” she asked as she dipped beneath the counter.

“Well, it’s a school night, so probably nothing. You?”

“You got to let loose sometimes, Riv.” She popped back up.

“My friends and I are having a bonfire at Davenport Beach. You think you can hobble yourself to it?”

It’d definitely warmed up, but I still found myself saying, “Even after that downpour today?”

“Especially after that downpour today. We were about to cancel and then the rain let up.” She pointed to the stretch of cloudless sky visible outside the windows.

“I’m not letting this night go to waste.”

She had a point.

I couldn’t deny I was tempted.

But… “I would, but school. Remember?” I’d already failed economics once; I didn’t need to do it again.

“You don’t strike me as someone who lets authority dictate your personal life.” Shanley inclined her chin.

“Come with.”

Taking a sip of my drink, I cycled through excuses—curfew, homework, Dad, finding out what happened to the Voices, learning more about my part-angel lineage.

For a second, I closed my eyes.

I had so much shit to sort through.

What was one night to live and forget about all of it?

“Sure,” I finally said.

“Why not.”

“Awesome.” The enthusiasm spread across Shanley’s cheekbones with a peach flush.

It hid last night’s boozy imprints, making her glow.

“You’re right though, we do have a problem,” she said straight to my sagging crew neck.

I followed her gaze and pulled at my potato sack of a shirt—Ryder’s.

My hands balled into fists.

I wanted to burn it, along with the rest of my outfit that was caked in demon.

“Not to worry.” Clearly sensing my stress, Shanley waved a hand as if she could erase it.

“I know someone who can help us.” Sweet of her to say us , even though she meant me .

After a few punches into her cell, she returned to her closing duties, using the machinery as her drum set.

Every so often she’d stop and take a few ragged breaths, shaking with a whole-body twitch.

Then she’d lift her shoulders, roll her neck, and sigh.

And every time I tried to stand up and run over, she’d wave me off and get back to it like there’d been no interruption.

While we waited for a miracle, because that was what it would take to fix this mess, I stole a glance outside.

The asphalt sparkled in the full moon’s light, a disco ball of glass and calcite.

Stray bar hoppers stumbled into trash cans that had been ransacked by the gulls.

A motorcycle revved a couple blocks over, the vibrations carrying all the way to my seat by the windows.

Other than that, it remained pretty quiet.

No hot rods lurking in the shadows.

No prehistoric demon birds dropping from the sky.

No guys in black clothes and combat boots.

Then my miracle arrived.

She stomped across the plaza as if it was her personal runway in her thigh-high boots and fence-net tights.

Kicking loose soda cans, blowing hot pink gum bubbles, wearing a suede jacket like a cape over her shoulders.

Her bare arms flared with each authoritative strut, her skin as pale and radiant as the moon that shone down on her like a spotlight.

“Hey, babe,” she said in a sultry tone to Shanley when she entered, tossing her jet-black bob and cherry-patterned sack of tricks aside before going in for the European double kiss.

Wrapping her arms around this mystery woman’s waist, Shanley tucked her fingers into her flared, leather shorts’ back pockets, and turned them both towards the taken bistro table—to me.

“Mau, I want you to meet River.”

“Hey, kitten.” She batted her wide-set eyes, irises dark as a desert night, cat liner swirling out from her smooth, creaseless lids.

“Hi there.” I waved from the corner, feeling a bit like fresh meat.

“She’s coming to the bonfire tonight.” Shanley’s mouth stretched into a grin so wide it exposed prominent canines.

“Can you work some of your magic?”

I tried not to flinch, but hearing the M-word was like taking a sip of a too-hot drink.

Mau’s heels echoed off the concrete as she left the rubber mats behind the counter.

“Let me get a good look at you. C’mon, don’t be scared.”

I rose from my chair, cringing as my butt peeled away like it’d been stuck to the surface.

I wished I would’ve checked a mirror before I left Ryder’s, or at any point before being put on display here.

Mau didn’t seem to notice, or at least didn’t seem care, as she circled around me, humming in deep introspection.

She brought her palms together, her amethyst nails steepled against her bright red lips.

“I can work with this.”

Oh great!

My stained jeans, scraped cheek, and hair that probably looked like a rat’s nest didn’t sabotage my potential for whatever it was that came next.

“Hand me my bag.” Mau gestured to her friend and then returned her focus to me.

“Now, kitten, this may hurt a bit, but I know what I’m doing. Just call me your fairy gothmother.”

Signaling my consent, not that I had a chance to protest anyways, Mau pulled at my roots and suffocated me with dry shampoo.

I winced as she got out her tweezers, seeing stars after a hefty plucking.

A cool towelette calmed the burn, and per the artist’s directive I rubbed in some primer and tinted moisturizer.

She pulled out an earring gun.

I shielded my lobes.

“I already have them pierced but thank you.”

Her finger rested on the trigger.

“Care for another one?” With her free hand, she tucked my hair behind my ear, exposing my cartilage.

I shook my head no. The scorches from her curling wand had been enough.

“Suit yourself.” She handed me a pair of oversized gold hoops instead.

Hair sprayed, face contoured, and tied into my clothes—Mau knotted the bottom of my t-shirt so it fit snugger, and it cropped even higher—I breathed in the scent of vanilla and coconut.

She’d really worked magic.

Then she tossed me a piece of fabric.

“Try this on, but put it under the hand dryer for a sec. Let’s keep the high tops; those are sick.”

I went to the bathroom, beyond thankful tonight’s invitation didn’t require an attempt to walk in some surprise stilettos.

If I had to ditch my Vans, I’d never agree to this.

Letting out a breath in the urinal-equipped room of freedom, I peeked in the splotchy mirror.

Despite Mau’s clear preferences for dramatic winged liner and a bold lip, I still looked…

myself. Myself with tamer brows, a hint of bronzer, a silkiness to my golden split ends, and a powdered beige sparkle to my lids.

I ran a finger along my cheek—the scratch left by the teratorn’s claw completely invisible behind a few dabs of concealer.

After I smeared some tinted gloss onto my lips, I held the pleated skirt Mau had gifted me beneath the heat to let it iron out the wrinkles and laced the bows on each side.

Smooth enough, I slipped it on, and it sat a little higher than my belly button—but it still didn’t reach my top.

Bearing an unusual confidence and an equally exposed midriff, I made my grand reveal.

Shanley had her companion pinned up against the register, too invested in the taste of her neck to notice my entrance.

I cleared my throat and they parted.

“Not bad for using an automatic dryer.” Shanley beamed.

“Babe, she looks incredible.”

“Thank you.” With my arms awkwardly stiff at my sides, it might not have sounded too convincing when I said, “I like it.” But truly, I did.

I was just used to a more boho look.

This was jarring, and sexy, and it was different.

But for a night, it allowed me to play someone else—and after the day I’d had, someone else was exactly who I needed to be.

“Looks like my work here is done. See you there.” Grabbing her designer duffel, Mau strutted out, giving me, her muse, a final, “Bye, kitten.”

I watched my fairy gothmother parade across the courtyard until she disappeared.

Shanley appeared behind me in the window’s reflection, twirling the mop.

“Ready to rock ‘n roll?”

Decked in a smile and a makeover that rivaled Cinderella’s, I grinned. “Ready as I’ll ever be. ”