Lady of Night

After forty-eight hours of straight binge-watching romantic comedies, I found myself yelling at the female lead to run, not walk away from the dark, tall, and mysterious guy attempting to ensnare her with his witty comebacks and devilishly good-looking smile. It was a fucking trap, girl. Run.

That's when I knew I needed to stop watching TV. I was sounding too much like Lucien.

I got up, brushed the crumbs of chips off me, and took a shower. Relief washed over me as all the dreadful emotions melted away.

I stepped out and dried myself off. I leaned halfway over the sink and splashed my face with cold water. I glanced up at the vanity mirror and took it all in.

It was crazy what a hot shower could do for a person.

My reflection looked more like an echo of my past self that I had long forgotten. My golden eyes were speckled with a grayish-blue and a glimmer of hope ignited within them like wildfire to an open field. I thought they had lost their sheen—their spark, but they were now glowing under the false light.

I honestly could not remember the last time I had felt this—safe. Where I didn't have to look over my shoulder or worry that someone or something might be following me. I was always on edge and I didn't realize it until now. I didn't realize my apartment was a gray cloud that brewed a malevolent storm, and never once did that storm produce a rainbow. There was no calm before it either. Only a steady darkness that was damp, frigid, and unwelcoming. It brought me to the brink of insanity. Had I gone there first, I wasn't sure what would have become of me.

After a few days of recuperating, I was rejuvenated—alive even, but I still wasn't ready to go back to my apartment alone.

Yet, I had to go sooner rather than later because I couldn't spend what little money I had on clothes, even if I was terrified about returning.

Lucien had offered to go pick up some of my outfits, but that would only inconvenience him. The number of graveyard shifts he had at the hospital as a security guard was ridiculous, and my apartment was so out of the way from his work that it didn't make any sense for him to go. So, I told him we could leave together after dinner, and once he got some rest and I applied for some jobs.

He still didn't understand why I wouldn't go by myself or why I needed to watch an excessive amount of chick flicks, but he never pressured me for answers, and I loved that about him. He knew I would tell him when I was ready.

I got to know Lynne little by little. She would stop by after her nine-to-five, and right before Lucien left for his NOC shift. She was a medical secretary at the hospital and that's how they got to know each other. Their story was so sickly sweet; it was like they plucked it right out of a rom-com that I watched recently. I usually ate that cutesy shit up, but it made me reflect on my own love life, and how I almost turned into an episode of Dateline.

I shivered at the thought. I needed to swear off men, and maybe romantic comedies for a little while.

I pulled my brunette hair back in a loose ponytail and slipped into the dark emerald top that was spread out on the bed and shimmied into the black slacks that barely accommodated my ass. It was a tight squeeze but it complimented my curves in all the right places—and it would have to do. I wouldn't even consider the outfit Lucien gave me. I wanted to throw up just thinking about it. He had terrible taste when it came to picking out clothes for women, like a sixty-five-year-old grandma skimming through the Welsmart clearance sections. It was that level of the grotesque.

Lucien was incredibly thoughtful, but I couldn't find it in me to actually wear it. So, I would have to apologize to him later. God, if my apologies kept piling up like this, I might be indebted to him for the rest of my life—if I wasn't already.

I flinched from the abrupt taps on the window.

I slid it up a little more and Gren hopped right in. I took a mental note to remind him that he needed to learn how to speak before aggressively smashing windows with his beak.

"Where are you always running off to?" I eyed him with disapproval.

He was vanishing so often that it gave me a sense of dread that I couldn't shake it off.

"Just patrolling." He paused, trying to articulate what to say next. "And I had to communicate what I found with the rest of us."

I narrowed my eyes. "And what did you find?" I probed, hoping he would answer truthfully, but it seemed like no one was entirely honest here.

He enunciated, "You are safe."

I laughed and shook my head. He was as vague as ever. Attempting to read him was like trying to read a text of old English without any references—which was impossible unless you were a history major for that specific era.

I had the sudden urge to ring his neck, but that wouldn't accomplish anything, nor would it make me feel better about his ambiguous retorts.

So, I ignored the violent thoughts that filtered through my mind and instead, delicately applied some mascara and lip gloss. I slipped on my ankle boots and headed for the front door. Lucien was still asleep so I would have to thank him later.

The door swung open and instantly, the sun illuminated the sidewalk as the heat kissed my skin.

The rush of fresh air somehow gave me a sense of urgency and hope. It also might have helped that Lucien lived right in downtown Hollow, which made it easier for me to visit all the jobs I found on Kenslist last night.

I took out the old phone Lucien let me borrow and scrolled through the job listings I saved. I was in desperate need of some quick cash, so I decided to drop by the bartending ones first.

Gren watched me from above as he dangled from the telephone wires, but his vacant stare didn't seem to bother me anymore; I had grown used to his proximity, and now he made me feel safe or at least, not alone and that was enough.

The streets were bustling with people taking a mid-morning stroll as numerous chimes went off from storefronts letting passing customers know they were open for business.

I veered through groups of people and landed right in front of Harley's fluorescent green sign.

I fixed my shirt, took a deep breath, and walked through the door.

I glanced around and right away, I noticed that it wasn't a bar like it said in the ad. It looked more like an apothecary shop with strange collections. But the more I looked around, the freakier it got.

Organs of animals floating in mason jars occupied the shelves as containers of dried herbs surrounded them, and everything appeared to be labeled in Latin. Well, I presumed it was Latin. I actually had no idea.

I walked closer to the shelves and with each step I took, the wooden floors creaked in protest. I turned back around to the door but it was gone.

Panic churned inside me as a deep trepidation edged closer to the surface. My eyes darted around, desperately looking for a way out.

I had to be cursed or a bad luck magnet. That was the only possible explanation for everything that was happening to me.

"Don't be shy," a lady's hoarse voice weathered from age called out. She emerged from a velvety curtain, wearing a black cloak. The brittle white hair resting on her shoulders looked more like spiderwebs as she pointed her bony finger at me. "Come now. A reading is needed so a favor can be settled."

It was like my legs had a mind of their own and immediately obeyed her command, following her into a room lit by candlelight.

She sat down at a round table that had a marbled bowl with herbs burning in the center.

"Sit child. Time is ticking and the spirits are talking."

I took a seat in a wobbly chair that moved each time I fidgeted.

She quickly snatched my hands and I was too aghast to speak or utter a sound. All I could think about was the feeling of her protruding bones under her thin wrinkles as she flipped my hand palm up.

Her eyes turned cloudy as she tilted her head to the side.

Her voice twisted into an eerily low tone that rattled me to my core. "Lady of night, truest ebony of darkness. Occult grew weary and feeble. The trickery of the murder has been unveiled. From the depths of fire and suffering, he has found you. Beware of the dusk, not the dawn, my child. For, a debt for debt must be repaid with kin of blood, and his haze of retention may very well bind you."