by Amy Hopkins
Glass knelt in front of Penny, his eyes hard and unsympathetic. “Hingston! You weren’t paying attention.”
“Yes, I was!” Penny winced as the words pulled at her sore cheek. Above the swelling bruise, her eye throbbed. “I saw him move, so I blocked it.”
“You didn’t trust your gut.” Glass’s words, coming so soon on the heels of Crenel’s lecture, knocked the wind out of Penny.
“My face hurts.” Penny knew the words were unneeded. Even the grouchy professor’s face was now creased with worry as he gently prodded her cheekbone.
“Non-contact sparring for the rest of class. You can go at eleven,” Glass barked. The instructions made little sense to Penny until he helped her to her feet. “I’ll walk you to the first aid office.”
Oh. She must be hurt badly if he was offering a personal escort.
Glass said little as they traipsed through the academy halls, Penny’s hand cupped on her face as she leaned against him. Her head spun from the blow, and darkness had clouded her vision on one side.
They passed through the foyer just as three special agents in crisp suits and dark glasses strode out of the building. When the door thunked shut behind them, Glass spoke.
“Rumor has it you’re going toe to toe with the liaison.” He released his grip on Penny to lean forward and open a door, then looped her arm over his shoulder. “Something about a werewolf?”
“I had a hunch. He checked it out,” Penny said, careful to speak without moving her jaw or lips. Though the words came out muffled, Glass seemed to understand.
“And?” he prodded.
Penny shrugged. “I was wrong.”
“Were you really?” He leaned her against a wall, letting it prop her up while he fished out a set of keys and unlocked the door to the first aid room. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve got good instincts, Hingston.” He eyed her cheek. “Usually.”
Penny stumbled forward. “Doesn’t matter what anyone believes,” she said. “He checked it out.” Her eyes rolled back as she collapsed into a chair, willing the blinding pain to ease.
“Then you don’t believe it,” Glass persisted.
Something cold and hard prodded Penny's cheek, sending a fresh surge of pain into her skull. Before she could react, a wave of frozen sparks took her breath away. Then the pain was gone.
Penny blinked, forcing her eyes to focus on the object waving in front of her.
Glass held the Asclepius staff in one hand while he filled out the requisition form with the other. “What’s your first name again, Hingston?”
“It’s Penny.” She answered the list of questions he rattled off: her date of birth (twenty-two years and a few months ago), known allergies (none), medical history (boringly healthy).
He shoved the form at her to sign. “Eat within the next twenty minutes, and avoid further use of the staff for the next three days, except in emergencies.”
Next, Glass rattled off the list of instructions attached to a tag dangling from the staff’s snake head. “Students should be aware that overuse of the staff may cause confusion, starvation, lethargy, and death. Staff is restricted for use on life-threatening injuries or injuries that present the possibility of permanent damage. Use on broken bones may cause permanent malformation, and is not recommended except in the direst of circumstances.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Huh. I hope it wasn’t broken. I probably should have read the warnings first.” He shrugged and turned to put the staff away. “That whack to the head would constitute life-threatening, anyway. Your eye looked like it was about to pop out of your head.”
“Gee, thanks,” Penny said dryly. “I could have lived without that image, you know.”
“Better to be aware of what your bad choices could have caused,” Glass said without a hint of humor.
“I blocked,” Penny insisted.
Glass stepped up to her, face stern, posture intimidating. “Your gut is never wrong, Hingston. Learn to trust it before it gets you killed.”
Chapter Ten
Penny touched her healed cheekbone before walking into the bustling coffee shop. Thank God for that staff. Starting her one-day trial with a huge purple bruise on her face wouldn’t have been good.
Inside, three people were queued at the register, which was manned by a girl with violet hair and a nose ring. Two more waited for their orders, and a quick glance showed Penny three tables with numbers and no food. Damn. He had to start me on a day like this?
“Hey! You’re here!” Tony waved her over and pointed to a door behind the counter with one hand, frothing a jug of milk with the other. “Throw your stuff out back, and let’s get started!”
Penny did as directed, pushing through the swinging door to find a small staff room equipped with a sink, kettle, and shelves. Two black aprons hung on hooks by the door, and a small table took up one corner. She slipped her handbag next to a purple tote—it matched the color of the server’s hair, so Penny guessed it was hers—and set Boots’ bag on the floor. “Why don’t you stay out here for a bit, pet?”
Boots sniffed the air and looked around disdainfully. The room was plain and cold, and the two chairs tucked under the table were made of hard plastic. Penny realized the snake wouldn’t be at all comfortable stuck in here for her four-hour shift.
“Fine. Just stay out of the way, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt if it gets any busier out there.” Penny grabbed an apron and slipped it over her head, and pushed the door open.
The smell of coffee and a buzz of chatter hit her like a wall. She took a deep breath and walked over to Tony.
“Looks like you’re set,” he said with a grin. He passed a coffee to a waiting man and began another. “Oh, Snakey came too!” Tony pointed to a small basket in the corner. “I’ve set you up a little hidey-hole over there, beautiful. I’ll bring you some chocolate milk soon, okay?”
Boots twitched her tail happily and scooted over to the basket.
“You’re sure it's okay?” Penny asked.
“Sure.” Tony jerked his head toward the snuggling serpent. “She’s not an animal, more like a person. Like that little green guy that walked past the other day. She’s one of them.”
“She is,” Penny admitted. “But not everyone likes…them. Most people will think she’s just a normal snake.” She didn’t add that she was surprised Tony could see Boots for what she was, let alone a passing leprechaun.
“Anyone who doesn’t like it can get the hell out of my shop.” He grinned and slid another coffee over the counter. “But hey, it’s Portland. She’ll be our main attraction before long, just you wait and see.”
Penny wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She didn’t relish the idea of Boots being turned into the star of a freak show, but perhaps Tony was just trying to make them comfortable. She was saved from responding, however.
“Tony!” The purple-haired girl flicked a tea towel at him and passed over a long receipt. “Man, pay attention. I just got an order for three vanilla caps and a macchiato. Get with it!”
“Do you want me to clear those tables first?” she asked.
Tony gave a grateful nod. “Bart will show you where to put them.”
Bart? Shrugging it off, Penny scooted out to gather the scattered cups and plates left by diners. She stacked them as high as she felt comfortable—which wasn’t very—and made her way to the kitchen.
“Hey, new girl!” The chef waved her down. “Throw those in there.” He gestured to a big industrial dishwasher.
Penny followed his instructions, slotting the plates and cups in as he directed. “You must be Bart,” she guessed.
“The one and only. Can you shoot that out to number thirteen?” He thrust a tray at her, two plates with toasted sandwiches and a side of fries.
“Sure.” Penny rested the tray on one arm and awkwardly pushed the kitchen door open.
“Hit it with your ass,” Bart called.
Startled, Penny almost upset her tray.
“Go throug
h the door backward,” Bart clarified. “So you don’t drop anything.”
“Oh!” Penny grinned and swung her hip to shove the door open. “That’s easier.”
She delivered the tray, and on her way back to the kitchen, Tony snagged her.
“Here,” he said. “Can you hold this?” He grabbed her hand and wrapped it around the handle of a bubbling jug of milk. “Just keep the nozzle about…yep, there.”
He darted off to throw lids on two waiting coffees and hand them to an impatient woman nearby.
“About time,” she snapped. “What took you so long?”
“It was all the love I put in the cups.” Tony smiled sweetly, but although it made Penny laugh, the woman didn’t seem to be mollified.
“Heathen boy. Tell Bart his lasagna was wonderful yesterday.” She walked out, shoulders still set with righteous irritation despite the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Violet, dear. Don’t you let that horrible man boss you around too much!”
“I won’t, Mrs. B. Catch you tomorrow!” Violet waved with one hand while the other punched a new order into the register.
Penny’s milk was bubbling and foaming almost to the top of the jug when Tony rescued her.
He eyed the pot. “Damn.” He spun and tossed it down a nearby sink, then poured a fresh batch. “Maybe stick with the tables for now. I’ll show you how to make the world’s best coffee when it gets a bit quieter, okay?”
Relieved to have something to do she felt capable of, Penny nodded. She grabbed an empty tray and started loading it with plates.
A well-dressed woman wearing too much jewelry and enough perfume to choke an elephant grabbed her wrist. “Here. Take this. You’re too slow, girl, so don’t expect a tip.”
“I don’t?” Penny blushed, realizing this was a customer, and she was here to get a job. “I’m sorry. I’m just here on a trial. It’s my first day. I’m sure I’ll get faster.”
“You can’t train stupid.” The woman turned back to her coffee with a sneer.
Penny hurriedly took her empty plates and stacked them on her tray.
“Nasty old cow,” Penny muttered under her breath. As if sensing her discomfort, Boots peeked out from her basket. Penny set her tray down on an empty table and ducked down to give her a scratch. “It’s okay, mate. You go back to sleep.” She stood and picked the tray back up.
“What is that?”
Penny swung around, only to find the asshole woman who’d snarked at her staring Boots down.
Boots raised her head and hissed at the woman
“It’s one of…of those things, isn’t it? No normal animal would show that sort of aggression.” Spittle flew from the woman’s mouth as she ranted.
The rest of the shop had fallen quiet.
“You’ve got demons here! I won’t abide it. Those things will bring about the end of the world!” She shoved a finger toward Penny’s face. “And you! You’re friends with it, so you’re probably one yourself!”
The woman shoved Penny’s arm, sending her staggering back in shock. Plates slid to the ground, shattering in a cascade of tinkling crashes.
Penny crouched among the wreckage, fists clenched and shaking. You can’t hit her back. You can’t. Her instincts, always on the defensive side, urged her otherwise, but she clamped down on her rage, swallowing it like a lumpy, bitter ball. She looked around, floundering in a situation she couldn’t control.
“See!” The woman turned to her audience, proud. “She’s cursed! This…this witch touched my food. I want my money back! I’m not eating in a place that curses its patrons!”
“Get the hell out of my shop.” Breaking the spell, Tony strode over and grabbed the woman’s arm. “Get out before I call the cops and press assault charges.”
“Assault?” the woman yelled. She tried to pull away, but his grip was tight. “You’ve got your hands on me. That’s assault! Assault!” She screamed the word dramatically, eyes wide as she looked for support among the small number of customers waiting nearby. Each stepped back, unwilling to stand up for the woman.
“You assaulted my worker,” Tony spat. “Now get the fuck out of here before you make it worse for yourself.” He steered her for the door. “Don’t come back here again.”
Seeing the woman retreat brought Penny back to the moment. The adrenaline fled from her body, and she sank to the ground. Hands trembling, she began to stack the broken china onto the tray, and she blinked away the traitorous sting in her eyes.
“Jesus.” Tony bent down and grabbed her hand. Penny flinched backward. “Go take a break. That woman won’t be coming back.”
“No, I’m—" A jagged edge sliced Penny’s hand, and she groaned. “Shit. Okay.” She lifted her eyes to meet her would-be employer’s. “Sorry, Tony.”
“Hey, you didn’t make her a bitch.” He clapped her shoulder reassuringly and steered her toward a free table.
Behind him, Violet swept up the mess with a dustpan and broom.
Penny sank onto the chair, clutching a paper napkin to her cut. She’d waved off Tony’s attention, assuring him she’d be fine. She would be; it wasn’t too deep, and the blood would stop flowing soon, surely.
Something soft nudged her ankle, then wrapped around it, climbing up to the table.
“Hey, girl.” Penny dropped her head so Boots could lick her cheek. “It’s not so bad. Just give me a minute and—"
“Hey.” Tony pulled a chair out and sat beside her. “Let me see that hand.”
Penny let him examine it. “It doesn’t hurt too much. If I can wrap it up, I can—"
“Don’t you even say it.” Tony let go and sighed. “It’s gonna need stitches. I can drive you to a clinic or get Violet to do it. Her shift is over soon anyway.”
“No!” Penny waved off the offer of help. “There’s a nurse at the Academy. It’s fine, really.” Her shoulder slumped as reality hit. “I guess my trial’s over?”
“You can’t make coffee like that. Unless it’s for a vampire...” He leaned closer. “Are vampires real? I keep seeing new reports from New York.”
Penny nodded, a smile finally growing. “Yeah, but you don’t wanna mess with those.”
“Look, we’ll call an end to today. I think you’re well and truly ready to go home. But come back Monday, and we’ll talk about your roster, okay?”
Disbelief fell away to shock, then excitement. “Really? You’re still giving me the job?”
“Yeah.” Tony grinned. “You did great.”
“He’s just glad he found someone who doesn’t whine about clearing tables.” Violet slid a coffee in front of Penny. “Here. You look like you need this.”
“Thanks.” Penny dropped her eyes so Violet wouldn’t see them glitter. What the hell, Penny? You’re not a crier! The day had exhausted her, though, first with the anxiety and excitement of something new, then the rush of being attacked in a way she hadn’t expected. All her training had focused on how to fight back with fists and weapons, how to hurt and disable her opponent. None of it had covered what to do in a situation like that.
I suppose I’m just lucky I didn’t do anything that could get me arrested. She wasn’t sure if the Academy would have been able to bail her out for hurting a civilian. The last thing she needed was a record or worse, to be deported.
Tony and Violet let her be, returning to the job of running the busy coffee shop. Bart came out once to check on her and once to offer her a meal, but easily accepted her claim that she wasn’t hungry. Penny just wanted to finish her coffee and be alone.
Chapter Eleven
“Thank you, Tony. No, really, don’t apologize. I completely understand. You, too. Bye.” Penny clicked the end call button on her phone and took a deep, steadying breath. Then, she pegged it across the dining hall. It bounced off a table and onto the floor, and Penny immediately winced. I know the case said shock-proof, but that might have been a little much.
“Hey!” One of the guys from the new intake sat up in shock. “
That nearly hit me!”
“It was nine feet away!” Penny growled back. She slid deeper into her chair, scowling.
“Penny?” Amelia said gently. “You wanna talk about it?”
“No,” Penny huffed. It was a lie. “She called the health department! Can you believe it? Of all the scummy, bullshit things to do, and they believed her! Now Tony has to close for a week, and I don’t have a job. I swear, if I ever run into that horrible cow again, I’ll—"
“Woah.” Cisco grabbed Penny’s arm firmly enough that she realized her hands were clenched into fists. “Slow down. Who called the health department?”
“That nasty bigot, the one who called Boots a demon.” She’d told her friends about the horrendous job trial two days ago.
"Yikes." Cisco pulled back to give Penny her space. "So, um. Does that mean you didn't get the job after all?"
Penny nodded, not quite trusting her voice.
"We should hunt her down," Red growled. Penny's head jerked up to look at him. "Rip her throat out." His eyes glittered darkly but cleared when he shook his head and grinned. Red gave a nervous laugh.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Amelia asked. Her tone was light, but a worried frown creased her brow. "You've been off for days. Your skin is hot. Do you have a fever?" She pressed the back of her hand to his cheek.
Red gave a nervous laugh and brushed her away. "I told you, I’m fine. I just need a decent night's sleep."
"Are you still having the dreams?" Amelia pressed.
"What dreams?" Penny looked from one to the other. "Is something going on, Red?"
"No!" Red brushed the question off. "I've just had a few restless nights, that's all. I'll be right as rain in no time."
"Restless doesn't begin to describe it," Cisco muttered in Penny's ear. "Last night, he was yapping like a dog in his sleep."
He'd spoken quietly, but not quietly enough to evade Red’s hearing. The Irishman glowered at his friend. "Maybe I should let out whose name you were moaning in your sleep the other night?"
