by Amy Cook
“Who was that?” Stint interrogated, the moment she moved behind the counter.
“Who?” She feigned disinterest.
“The Halfer freak,” Stint ground out. Amiel’s temper flared at the derogative term, but she carefully kept her face passive.
“Halfer? What is that?”
Stint’s own temper rose with her feigned ignorance. “The one with the tattoo. You know him?”
“Nope. Just another patron.”
“Why did he leave so quickly? I saw you talking.”
“He asked if we had a bathroom. I told him only if he didn’t mind wading through trash to get to it. Apparently he didn’t like that idea. Can’t say I blame him. It is pretty gross in there.”
Stint’s eyes narrowed. “You’re walking on thin ice, woman.”
“It is winter.” She kept her face completely blank, though oddly she wanted to grin. There was nothing funny about this situation, or the fact that she was talking back to the man who could end her career. Yet somehow she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t like his expression, his tone, and she certainly didn’t like the way he spoke about Cajun. Maybe they hadn’t had the most pleasant meetings in the past, but he was still Harley’s brother. And that made him her friend, no matter what their difference of opinion. Especially if he was serious about wanting to put the past behind them, as he had intimated before leaving.
“Watch your dirty whore mouth,” Stint growled, leaning closer. “And mind you, next time that man comes in here, we don’t serve him. We don’t welcome his kind here, or those who socialize with them. So tell his friend to scram, too.”
“His kind?” Amiel asked, sarcasm and anger heavily lacing her words. “Exactly what kind is that?”
“The Halfer freaks. They roam about at night, causing all sorts of trouble, sticking their noses where they don’t belong. Rumor has it that they’re tainted, their disease perpetuating this cursed plague.”
“That’s ridiculous. I haven’t heard any such rumors,” Amiel argued.
“That’s because you’re too busy on the street corner to hear them. Now shut up and send his friend packing.”
Amiel went stiff, defiantly facing the portly man.
He scoffed. “You’re useless. Get in the kitchen. Your pay is docked for two days.”
Amiel snapped out of her anger as he shoved past her, the fact that she was on the verge of losing her job finally sinking in. Stint wasn’t one for empty promises when it came to firing people. She turned on her heel, slammed through the doors into the kitchen, and leaned against the counter in frustration.
In the other room, she could hear Stint shouting at Pell to get out. Amiel hurried to the service window. Pell looked toward the kitchen with a harried expression on his way out the door. Amiel nodded stiffly toward him, pointing at her watch. He seemed to get her meaning and headed out the door without a word. Amiel quickly slipped out of view before Stint could turn around and realize that she’d been lying about her acquaintance with the men. She turned, feeling the gaze of all those in the kitchen on her back.
“Yes, I’m crazy, thank you. Grr rawrr.” Their gazes quickly shied away, hurrying back to their work as though afraid to catch her particular brand of crazy. Only one pair of eyes stayed glued to her, and didn’t shift away when she met their gaze: Cookie, the one part of her work shift that stayed the same despite the time change. She wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to work both day and night shifts without keeling over in exhaustion or boredom, but somehow the guy was always there. From his position at the stove, he could see everything that happened in the diner, the open serving window affording a clear view. And that meant he’d likely seen the whole thing play out. His eyes held hers for a long moment, before he turned back to the stove. Sighing heavily, Amiel approached him.
“Cookie, I need an intervention. This lack of sleep is making me crazy. I could have just lost my job back there. What is wrong with me? Why did I have to push it? I need help.” He gave her a simple glance before moving back to his cooking. “No? No help on that front?” No answer. She sighed again, bending to press her head against the cool surface of the metal counters.
“Okay then, I’ll just take two orders of our donut dips to go, thanks,” she mumbled. He nodded and went to work on them, bagging them up and handing them off to her in his no-nonsense, record-breaking speed.
Offering him a wave, Amiel clocked out for lunch and headed for the back door. Peeking out to ensure there were no unsavory lurkers hiding in the back alley, she exited the restaurant and made her way around to the street. She froze, stepping back around the corner of the alley when she saw Stint. He was standing on a small stepladder, pinning up a large sign on the barred windows of the restaurant. The sign was written in big, ugly, scribbled sharpie words. With a grunt of satisfaction, Stint grabbed his stepladder and headed back inside. After waiting a few moments, Amiel walked up to the window.
“Rabids, Halfers, and sympathizers not welcome!”
Her anger bubbled under the surface once more. It almost made her waltz back into the building and quit on the spot. Instead, she turned on her heel and strode away quickly, before her temper could get her into more trouble. If she lost this job, there was no guarantee she could find another. It had taken forever to find this one. And in today’s world, you needed a reliable job to survive.
She’d heard stories from Joyce about what happened to people on the street in this city, none of which was appealing to Amiel in the least. From her own experiences on the streets, she was more than eager to avoid that if possible. Still, it grated on her nerves to work for someone who so easily hated those that he knew nothing about — especially when her best friend and his family were part of that hated group.
She was grateful when she saw Pell was indeed waiting outside, leaning against the wall of a shop across the street. It was a much-needed distraction from her current, angry rampage. When he saw her, a huge smile broke across his face and he moved quickly to join her, tripping on the curb as he went. They walked in silence for a few moments, though she could tell he was eager to say something. When she handed him one of the bags of donut dips, he couldn’t hold it back any longer.
“I am not the best when it comes to actually talking to people,” he apologized with a blush. “I tend to babble about history, and really anything of interest to me, thus the stammerings about my heritage the first time we met.”
Amiel frowned in confusion. “The first time we met? I only remember a cow…”
His skin flushed. “Uh, yeah, that one didn’t come out the way I intended it to, either.” He held out his hands, as though to bow. “Mr. Awkward, that’s me.”
Amiel smiled softly. “You’re fine, Pell, no worries.”
“Well, that’s really nice of you.” He winced. “But see, I may have lied when I said we hadn’t met before. Pellerton the third, possibly from Viking namesakes, at your service.” This time he did bow, and Amiel’s eyes immediately brightened.
“Oh! I remember! You were there my first night working at the restaurant. I thought I recognized you!”
He nodded sheepishly.
“But why did you lie?”
“Honestly? I was embarrassed. As I said, I’m socially awkward. What I say and what I mean are often misconstrued. For example, my story about the cow whilst backpacking? That came out sounding entirely devious. Really, I was just thirsty… sadly, I don’t even like milk that much.”
Amiel couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Pell was definitely awkward, yet you couldn’t help but like him.
“I just wanted to apologize, first for lying, and second for the awkwardness I exude. Yeah, yup… that’s about it.”
Amiel placed a hand on his shoulder in consolation, earning a deeper blush out of him.
“Pell, you should never have to apologize for being who you are. In fact, it should be celebrated. So many people have an impossible time being who they really are. They’re too afraid to let people see
their real selves. You, on the other hand, have enough courage to own who you are.”
Pell’s face erupted in a smile so brilliant it was nearly blinding. “Thank you, Amiel! I never thought of it that way before.”
“You’re welcome, Pell. And thank you for all the help you’ve given me. You are a true friend, slaps and all.” She winked, and his face grew impossibly redder.
“Yes, well. I am definitely a trend setter in medical advances and bedside manner,” he offered, to which Amiel giggled.
“There you go!” She stopped laughing as her eyes were suddenly drawn ahead to where Cajun stood at the bus stop bench. He watched them carefully, clearly wondering about their jovial conversation. Pell eagerly dove into his donut bag, offering a goofy grin to Cajun before walking off to sit on a park bench, allowing them privacy. Amiel took a deep breath, then handed the second bag of donut dips over to Cajun.
“Truce?”
His face immediately softened. “I’m sorry, bird. I behaved badly. I never should have spoken to you that way about your brother. I was a real no-hopper.”
“I… wait, a what?”
“My apologies. Lost in translation.” He grinned. “A no-hopper. It means a fool, or a loser.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, no! No, you weren’t. I understand. You were only thinking of protecting your family. And I was protecting the only thing I have left of mine.” She bit her lips against the threat of tears. There was no time or place for that right now. Squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes. “And you were right. I am an unknown factor. I put others at risk. Apparently I’ve added you guys to the list. So, I’m sorry too. You know, for existing and all that.” She chuckled self-deprecatingly.
Cajun’s eyes immediately turned serious. “No, bird, never say that. Maybe you are traveling a dangerous and lonely path, but so are we. You…” He ran a hand over his short haircut, the movement striking her in that moment as the closest she had ever seen Cajun and Harley resembling one another. It was endearing. She felt some of her muscles loosening, relaxing.
“You’re the first real friend my little brother has ever had, bird. You’ve given him an anchor in life. You ground him and steady him in a way no one ever has before, more so than even Tandy or I can,” he admitted humbly. “Listen. You showing up in our lives, it may be a bit hectic and dangerous. But it couldn’t have come at a better time for Harley. He needs you.”
“Needs me?” she whispered.
“More than you know,” Cajun replied solemnly. “You offer him what no one else can. You pull him away from the brink. And for that, I owe you more than an apology. I’m truly grateful for your existence, Amiel, no matter how bumpy the road may be.”
Amiel bit her lip, not knowing what to say to such a heartfelt and earnest reply from Cajun. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He shrugged, boyish grin back in place. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to find a way to apologize since I screwed up, but Harley makes an impressive babysitter when he puts his mind to it. I thought it best to avoid another confrontation, and have been biding my time. He’s on a mission for Foundation right now, so I knew it was now or never.”
“Are you two fighting, then?” Amiel asked, mouth turning down in a guilty frown. “I am so sorry. The last thing I wanted was to come between the two of you. You’ve been through so much together; it isn’t fair for me to waltz in and make trouble.”
Cajun’s eyes became wary, carefully watching some random citizens as they gave him distrustful glances of their own, walking by on their way through the park. Amiel watched, sending her own scowl back at the passersby. People could be so closed-minded at times. They always had been, throughout history. But today it seemed rather abundant.
Shrugging the tension from his shoulders, he looked back to Amiel. “No worries, bird. It’ll be right eventually. It always is.”
“No, really, I’m so sorry. I don’t want there to be contention between the two of you, especially because of me. It’s just not right.”
Cajun waved her off. “Don’t worry yourself. It’s in the past. You stuck up for yourself, and I respect that. Harley will be right soon enough. He’s mostly just been set on me keeping my distance because he’s worried I’ll say something stupid again. He’s awful protective of his little friend.” He winked, finally digging into the bag of donut dips. Eyes brightening with the discovery of what lay inside, he grinned up at her. “I’m just happy that he has a friend to protect. That’s enough for me.”
But that wasn’t enough for Amiel. She knew the pain of losing her brother. She knew that Harley had nearly lost Cajun in the past. She wouldn’t let there be any more pain or lost time between the two brothers. She was going to fix this if it was the last thing she did.
“Cajun?”
He looked up from his sugary treats.
“Could I maybe have Charleen’s phone number?”
Cajun stared at her, nervously wide-eyed, donut halfway in his mouth. Amiel grinned.
Chapter 4
Tandy
“Mud Hogs Travel Agency. What a horrid little cesspool. Couldn’t you have thought of a better name for it? Something more civilized?” Malinda Hilden strolled about Tandy’s shop, running a polished finger over the odds and ends on his shelves. She turned with a vicious grin. “Of course, no matter the name, those among civilized society still would never step foot inside.”
“I suppose y’all consider yourself among the civilized?”
“Of course.”
“In that case, I’m glad to not have the civilized comin’ ’round for regular visits.”
Malinda’s eyes narrowed in what he supposed to be her usual intimidating glare. He easily ignored it, content to merely watch her with a silent, steady gaze of his own. Huffing, she strode to the chair and made a show of wiping the leather with a napkin from her purse before sitting. “I imagine you are curious as to why I am here.”
“The notorious Malinda Hilden in my establishment, where no civilized person would enter?” He shrugged, unconcerned. “Can’t say as I’m all that excited ’bout it. To what do I owe the displeasure of your civilized company?”
“That accent. It sets my nerves on edge every time I hear it.” Malinda sneered, shuddering in disdain. “I think we both know the reason I am forced to endure your presence today.”
“’Fraid I can’t think of any instance as horrifyin’ as what it would take to bring the likes of you to my shop.”
“Let us skip the pleasantries, Mr. Coaver. I have reason to believe that you had a visit from my daughter shortly before her disappearance. I want to know why.”
“And I wanna know why your nose is upturned like a rhinoceros. But I’m afraid ain’t neither of us gonna find our answers today. Y’all were just leavin’, after all. Can’t have anybody seein’ ya here and thinkin’ you ain’t civilized, can we?” Tandy offered a smirk that obviously set Malinda’s insides on fire.
“You presume to dismiss me before my inquiries are satisfied?”
“I presume nothin’. Your satisfaction ain’t none of my concern. Or any man’s, I’d wager.”
“I do not care for your tone, Mr. Coaver. I think you forget who I am.”
“How could I forget who you are? Malinda Hilden, the viper of Rockville, destroyer of hopes and dreams, stealer of children’s candy.”
Malinda’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Oh, spit and hiss all ya like, viper. I ain’t afraid of the likes of you. Ya might not like my tone, but there ain’t a damned thing I like ’bout you, neither. You’re a selfish, spoiled brat that thinks she deserves the world just ’cause she was homecomin’ queen, or some such thing. But I got news for ya. I dealt with vipers like you all my life. And the funny thing ’bout vipers? Cut the head off and it tastes just like chicken.”
“Was that a threat, Mr. Coaver?” Malinda whispered darkly.
“Don’t take it too literal, girl. I ain’t really gonna eat ya. My mama taught me better than to put dirty things in
my mouth when I was still in diapers.”
“Given your advanced age, that advice was probably quite recent,” Malinda snarled. Tandy shrugged again. For an insult to bother a person, they first had to care what the other had to say. He didn’t. The woman fumed, annoyed her barb hadn’t had the intended effect. “Is this the only answer I can expect from you, then?”
“Think it’s ’bout time y’all got used to disappointment. It certainly ain’t the first one you’ve had today.”
Malinda’s eyes widened slightly before she regained control. Tandy kept the grin from his face. “Yeah, I heard. You had a meetin’ with Berlintine Bank today. It didn’t go so well there, neither, did it?” That was an understatement. Coffee shop rumor had it that Malinda had stormed out of the bank in a full-on huff. Someone inside the bank had leaked the gossip about it within moments of the occurrence.
Apparently Malinda had caught wind of Amiel having been there before her disappearance, too. The witch was roasting the entire town over it. She went to Berlintine demanding answers as to what the girl had been doing in their establishment. The bank replied that there was no record of Amiel having ever been there and even went so far as to have Malinda escorted to the door. Fire burned in the woman’s eyes now, the slight of the matter clearly still fresh in her mind. Promptly standing from her chair, Malinda glowered.
“You’ve just made a very powerful enemy, Mr. Coaver.” She offered the vengeful promise as she strode toward the door.
“Made one of them the moment I moved into this Hell-bound town, I’d reckon,” Tandy acknowledged.
“I will have my answers, one way or another,” she threatened. Tandy leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, entirely unconcerned.
“Another thing ’bout them vipers: once you’ve been bit often enough, ya tend to build up an immunity of sorts. Ain’t much venom that can bother me these days.”
