What a Lovely Sight Page 3

  “Did the bakery bring in the maple cookies yet?”

  She sighed. “No. They probably forgot and Scalia is going to be so mad at us that he’ll fire us.”

  I burst out laughing. “Scalia isn’t awake enough to be angry. And I’m guessing Mrs. Langston just forgot. You know she can be a little absentminded. I’ll just go over and ask her later.”

  I checked the foamer to make sure it was ready. Of course it was, because Jeanine had already checked it, and laid out the most commonly used ingredients in order from most to least used. Of course, that put the oat milk and almond milk comedic levels apart on the shelf, but it was a small price to pay for Jeanine’s peace of mind.

  “So, you went to the Sheriff last night?”

  I bit back a sigh. “Who told you? Manny?”

  “What? No. I couldn’t talk to him. He’s terrifying. No. Constance heard from Bradley who’s Franklin’s older brother.” Constance was Jeanine’s much older sister who did not understand the word secret.

  I rolled my eyes. “I thought police discretion was important.” I started unwrapping the cake slices and putting them on the shelves. “And Manny isn’t scary. He’s just rich.”

  “Easy for you to say. You face off against the supernatural all the time and come out alive. Speaking of which, what monstrosity did you survive last night?”

  “Well, I could only see the silhouette. But…they didn’t look particularly scary.” I frowned in concentration. “I know they had wings. I think they were connected to the back, but the arms also looked like they had some sort of wing-esque attachment. Maybe for aerodynamic movement? Oh, and they seemed kind of big. Like, wide in a strong, muscular way.” I shrugged. “That’s all I got.”

  When I turned back, Jeanine had a ghastly look on her face. “Good god. That’s horrid. Do you think it was a vampire out to eat you?”

  “No. Vampires can’t fly.”

  “I see.” Jeanine nodded gravely. “Well, I’m glad you made it out.”

  “They didn’t even get close.”

  “But they could have. God. Can you imagine?”

  I could picture that. If the winged person had flown over to the roof, what would have happened? What would they have said? The creatures I’d met over the years were perfectly nice, but maybe that was because I’d been a child. I didn’t think the creature was out to get me, though. Or anyone else, for that matter. There hadn’t been any reports of strange sightings overnight, outside of mine.

  I shook myself out of my reverie. “Speaking of surviving,” I said, gesturing to the crowd of barely awake college students gathering, “You ready for this?”

  “Oh, god, no,” Jeanine said, rubbing her temples. “I’m never ready for this.”

  Once the clock struck seven, it was absolute chaos. Maydayans took their coffee and accompanying sweets very seriously, and that was doubly true with a group of aggressively sleep deprived students craving caffeine and a sugar boost. I was pretty sure that our coffee stand got more traffic than the cafeteria. And for a good portion of the shift I was practically flying solo, since Jeanine had a minor crisis about three of the croissants coming out of the oven resembling charcoal bricks.

  Vincent Worwith was in rare form that morning, getting four espresso shots over the course of an hour and a half. On the last shot, I asked, “Everything good, Vincent?”

  He glared at me with bloodshot eyes and said. “Ghost stories. Couldn’t sleep.”

  “I haven’t met many ghosts who want to harm folks,” I said as I made up the next espresso shot. “Most of them are just tired, sad, or cranky.” I turned to hand him the cup and realized that I definitely had not made him feel better. “Uh…two dollars.”

  He snatched the cup from me, downing the hot liquid in two gulps. He slammed a five dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change,” he said as he stalked off.

  “Oh dear,” Jeanine said. “Do you think he’ll leave a bad Yelp review?”

  “Do we even have a Yelp account?”

  “Oh, god, I hope not. Can you imagine?”

  We kept at it until noon. I had Accounting 200 at 12:15, so I grabbed one of the only slightly burnt croissants and half wrapped it so I could eat it on the way to class.

  Of course Manny was my last customer before I clocked out. He’d been flitting around the stand for like ten minutes, hovering harder than Jeanine had been around that damn oven. I’d never seen him act this…unsure. It was odd.

  Finally, he came up.

  “What do you need?” I said, making my voice as pleasant as possible.

  “Um,” he glanced down at the shelves as if it was his first time seeing him. “A…blueberry muffin.”

  “Sure.” I grabbed one and placed it on the counter. “Four dollars.”

  “Of course.” He fished in his bag for his wallet, shuffling from side to side. It was like he was a scared kindergartner trying to ask the teacher for something. He put a twenty on the counter, frowning.

  Finally, he said, “I want to apologize for last night and—”

  “It’s fine.” I put my hand over his and leaned in. “Can we talk later? About…you know…the site.” I tried to keep my face calm as it registered I was actually touching this man. And he wasn’t pulling away.

  Shock registered in those gorgeous brown eyes before it melted away into joyful confidence, with a bit of smugness. “Of course,” he said, his smile brilliant and sexy and infuriating. “Where shall we meet, mi amor?”

  My eyes widened. Holy. Shit. Manny Weston was flirting with me. Like, actually. “U-um…the library. Downtown. Tomorrow. At like 6.” I yanked my hand off of his, tearing my apron off and avoiding Jeanine’s eyes as I left the booth.

  Manny followed me, his long stride easily keeping up with my five foot five speed walking. “We could acquire food afterward, if you like.”

  Oh god. Super duper no-way-around-it levels of flirting. But this was not going to be a date! I did not want it to be a date. Did I? Well…no! This was about figuring out myself, my past, and where I was going. It was not about canoodling with the guy whose hair was practically levitating with every gust of wind. Or…

  “Sure, we could get something afterward. Um…see you later, okay?” I gave him one last glance before dashing into the math building, eternally grateful that my skin was dark enough to hide blushes. That man needed no more ammunition to be cocky.

  But fuck, he’d knocked me off kilter. I felt jittery and excited and I haven’t even touched my overcooked croissant. I rolled my eyes and willed myself to get it together as I sat on the bench outside of class and ate.

  It wasn’t that he was the first one. I was a few boys’ dirty secret in high school and one girl’s. But that was all I was to them: a secret. Someone nobody would proudly proclaim as theirs. And there Manny Weston was, clearly asking me out in front of a bunch of bystanders. Whether or not the context made it remotely true, it’d be all over town in a few hours that Emmanuel Weston was sweet on the town kook. I couldn’t help but smile.

  I finished the croissant and went out to the trash can. Once I threw the wrapper away, I caught sight of a guy. He was definitely not from around Mayday. Perfectly hair sprayed blonde mullets and tailored back suits with cufflinks was way too flashy for the locals. His gold watch was so big it looked like a fake Rolex. I wouldn’t have given him more than a glance, except he was staring at me with a crooked smile. I frowned at him.

  “Can I help you, mister?”

  The man shook his head, keeping that same grin as he bowed to me. Then he turned and walked away.

  I let out the tense breath I was holding. Mayday didn’t get a lot of tourists in general, and even fewer who walked onto open college campuses to leer at barely legal girls, but general lecherousness wasn’t exactly a shock. I’d had pepper spray in my purse since I was eleven, and I’d had to use it a few times. I shrugged off the discomfort as I went back inside. I had better things to look forward to than some creep. I had a past to discover and
someone I was beginning to like way too much to find things out with.

  Chapter 8

  MANNY

  There was some eager, childish part of me that wanted to skip, run, and spin in a circle until I got so dizzy I’d collapse on the grass and laugh. But I couldn’t bring myself to act out like that, so I settled on whistling to myself.

  I felt…whole, complete. I rarely experienced this sensation. Throughout my life I’d tried to be what Emmanuel Weston was for everyone else. At first I was the small, dutiful child who tried to be the perfect little white boy for his mother, and I failed miserably, too brown to ever be what she craved. So I spent most of it lost, grasping at straws of joy when they flitted across my path. Twelve was the one year where I’d ever tried to find myself. I’d started relearning Spanish, listening to Latin radio, and watching telenovelas on YouTube. I saw myself, for once, and it gave me something.

  Spade took me to the Spanish movie theater across town a few times. That was where I met the first loves of my life, Diego and Carmen. Their parents worked at the mall across from the theater. There were several days that I would buy us tickets to go see a film and instead we would take turns kissing each other in the trees behind the highway. It was just practice, we all swore. And I think there was a part of me that believed that, at the time. I even thought it was a reasonable explanation when my father found out.

  I remember him dragging me up the stairs to his office and shoving me into a chair. He’d grabbed my shoulders, squeezing them until I cried from the pain. Then he stared down at me with eyes filled with ice and said, “You are nothing. This family made you something. A golden spoon was placed in your pathetic little mouth, and what do you do with it? Fuck. Up. Humiliate me. Go fuck a little boy and girl with dirt in their hair. Put on that stupid little accent like you’re from avocado fields.” He pushed me back into the chair and stood, breathing to calm down. Then he said, “You are here on your mother’s whims and my grace. Do not ever test me like this again.”

  I shut myself off after that. Rage and disdain gave me the desire to rail against him. I became the embodiment of disappointment. I think I wanted to see if I could actually get him to disown me. He never did, but I had enough bruises from “accidents” to make me feel like I was less than nothing.

  In hindsight, my father avoided me when Spade was around, which was probably why she didn’t notice. The closest she’d come to intervening with me and my family was after the accident. She’d called my mother to the safe house I was staying at, resting up from my concussion. She’d pointed to me laying on the bed and told my mother, “Therapy. Now.”

  She was right, as per usual. Therapy had helped me quite a bit. Every step I took was not filled with self-loathing, only half of them. I was no longer slapping on personalities to fit what everyone else thought of me. Well, sometimes I slipped into that. Toxic habits were difficult to break. But I was better at being myself.

  Now came the issue of knowing who I was. I’d spent so long dismissing it, I didn’t have a great grasp of myself. That was a work in progress, but since I’d come to Mayday, I’d decided to go with what I felt made me feel alive. Photography did that. Vincent’s complete lack of social grace did that. And now, Kat. Kat with her perfect lopsided smile and eyes that betrayed every thought in her head. And she had embraced this embarrassing, incredibly silly hobby that the real me loved. That was a gift she’d never understand the significance of. But I loved her for it.

  I was so content to steep in the emotional high of feeling completely whole for once that I almost missed the man tailing me. He was deeply nondescript, with brown, army cut hair and equally uninspired suit. I might not have noticed him if it weren’t for his hideous gold watch that kept catching the light. I considered confronting him, but then thought of Spade’s glare and decided against it. Instead, I used her training and lost him. It took a bit longer than I expected, but, eventually, I evaded him. Once I’d slipped away, I called Spade.

  “Yes, Mr. Weston?”

  “Someone was tailing me this afternoon. I lost him, but I need to know who he was and why he was after me.”

  “Anything particularly identifying about the pursuer?”

  “White. A few inches shorter than me, so six feet or so. Brown hair, blue eyes. Boxy glasses. Oh, and a hideous gold watch. Far too big.”

  A brief pause and then, “Oh, shit. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I frowned. “Why? Who is he?”

  “A Luxurer. Look, these people are incredibly dangerous. Do not engage with them. I’ll be there to pull you out in a few hours.”

  “Why are they here?”

  “That report must have tipped them off. They’re probably chasing some artifact. And they won’t let anyone get in their way, so do. Not. Engage with them.”

  My heart jumped. Kat.

  “I have to go.” I started running toward the STEM building.

  “Wait, no!”

  “I put Kat in danger, Spade! I can’t just leave her!” I reached the building and found it locked. “Fuck.” I turned, scanning the students for Kat’s form and coming up blank.

  “Damn it, Manny! Just…fine, if you have to go after her, that’s fine. But wear that bracelet I gave you. All right?”

  “Fine.” I hung up and fished the small, black band out of my pocket. I didn’t like wearing it because it was always cold, but Spade and mother had insisted I keep it with me at all times. I rolled it on, shivering at the icy threads that shot up and down my arm.

  It was pure luck I saw Jeanine from across the quad. I ran over to her, slowing slightly when I saw her backing away from me with wide eyes.

  “Jeanine.”

  “Y-yes.” She was staring at me like I was death. “W-what is it?”

  “You know Kat, right?”

  “Oh, um, yea. We’ve been friends for a long time, and we’re roommates, and we work together…” she was staring at the ground, blushing furiously. I did not have time for stumbling words.

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “Y-yea. She’s gonna take the bus home.”

  I shot her my best smile. “Thank you.” I bolted to my car, got in, and hoped to god I got to the bus stop in time.

  Chapter 9

  THE SEEN ONE

  Straw Hair and Oak Hair split up, following Katiana and the man who is with her as they part. I stay behind Straw Hair as he pursues Katiana. He lets her see him and bows to her, like a jackal acknowledging its prey, then goes near the bus stop to wait. He is rejoined by Oak Hair.

  “Lost him. Who would have thought that Emmanuel Weston would be so slippery?” He sighs. “We might need to call the whole thing off.”

  “Oh, stop being such a baby,” Straw Hair says. “She’s defenseless. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  “But the Westons are connected. What if he brings in Spade? We can’t take her.”

  “All the more reason to do this quickly,” Straw Hair says.

  Oak Hair wipes sweat from his brow. “I called Saul, just in case. He’s in the area.”

  “Oh, come on!” Straw Hair stands and stomps away. Oak Hair follows him and spins him around.

  “A time freeze will be more efficient.”

  “But it’s no fun!”

  “I am not here to have fun.”

  Straw Hair crosses his arms. “Fine. You’re such a fuckin’ killjoy.”

  Oak Hair turns and hisses, “Shit.”

  The man from before—Emmanuel Weston—drives up to the bus station as Kat is about to enter. He calls out to her, his voice warm and smooth. She stares at him, her dark eyes confused. He pulls her close and speaks to her so quietly I can’t hear. Then she nods and goes to his car. He opens the door for her and closes it before driving off.

  “Shit, shit!” Oak Hair says, yanking out his phone. “I told you this would be a problem! Let’s go! We can’t lose them! I’ll make sure Saul is in position.”

  I stand and flex my wings, preparing for flight. I do
not know this time freeze that they speak of. But I believe it is magic, and I know what magic can do. It could hurt her. I cannot let that happen.

  Chapter 10

  KAT

  I really wanted to enjoy my first ride in a BMW, but, unfortunately, I was distracted by the increasing stress of mortal peril. My hands kept gripping the seat, which was made of really soft, brown leather. God, this car was comfortable. And the ride was so smooth. Did Manny even notice how nice this car was? I glanced over at him. Definitely not. He did look great in a tight, golden orange turtleneck, though, gripping the wheel confidently, his molten chocolate eyes focused on the road.

  Fuck, brain. Really? Now? Important shit was happening. I forcibly dragged my eyes from his face. “I should tell Ma we’re coming.” I fished my phone out of my purse, took a deep breath, and called.

  She picked up after the first ring. “What happened? Did someone see your necklace?”

  “No. But something happened. We need to get out of town for a while. I’m on my way. Can you pack what you need? I promise I’ll explain everything on the drive out.” There was such a long pause I thought something had happened. “Ma? Ma are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” She hung up.

  Her voice was so quiet, so defeated. I felt like absolute shit. I leaned back into the very comfy seat and sighed.

  “Is she all right?”

  “Yeah. She’s fine. Can I just ask…why did you get Spade to take my case up the ladder?

  Manny bit his lip before glancing over at me. “I wanted to show you that I believed you. And I had the resources, so…why not? Well, now I know that was a mistake. I did not think it would lead to…this. I’m sorry.”

  For fuck’s sake. Did he have to be so endearing? I really, really wanted to have some righteous anger, but no. He was too tall and bulky and pretty and sincere and dorky for any of that to well up in me. I started rubbing my temples.