Page 11 of Little Music of Night

Lisa winced, refocusing on me. “Well, that sucks, but it’s not your fault. Really it’s on the Barista. He reached out to me, you know. Asked for you specifically. Said there were two monsters who wanted you.”

My ears rang as I stared at her. “What . . . what kind of monster?”

“Phantoms.”

Oh.

Wait.

The ghosts in my dreams. Or, phantoms. “Is there a difference between ghosts and phantoms?”

“Yes. Ghosts are the remnants of human souls who have passed. A little uncommon. Phantoms are monsters. They are like ghosts in many ways, but they are their own creature. Many have multiple forms, too.” She smirked. I had no idea what she meant by that, though.Multipleforms?

Phantoms. Phantoms had asked for me. Could that mean . . .

No, there was no way. Also that would mean they were stalking me, right? Which would be creepy. My throat tightened as I remembered my dream last night, cheeks flushing hot.

What if those hadn’t been dreams?

“I’m sure their feelings were hurt, but I don’t think it would affect anything if you wanted to try again. You don’t have to, of course.”

I frowned, thinking about how awful I’d been. “I’m embarrassed,” I said. “I was also rude to the guy working there. Bell. I feel so bad.”

“Don’t feel too bad about that. Bell could use some ego bruising every now and then. The man is a whore.”

My mouth dropped with a shocked gasp, and Lisa started laughing again, her eyes sparkling with amusement. This was a new side of her, and I loved it.

“What? It’s true. I don’t think his family knows, but he’s slept withso many people.I mean to a point where he’s starting to make a name for himself in kink clubs.”

“I mean . . . is he any good?” I asked.

She smirked. “Oh yeah. He’s got monster stamina and the face of an angel.”

“Lisa.Don’t tell me you’ve slept with him.”

“I have.” She took a demure sip of her drink. “Never mind that I’m fifty years his senior.”

“Lisa!” I squealed, slapping my hand over my mouth as she cackled.

“Oh yes, so that’s the other thing. A lot of monsters are old. Our lifespans are very different.”

“How old are you?”

“Only seventy-seven.”

“Seventy-seven?!”

Lisa laughed and leaned back as the waiter brought our food and a fresh basket of soft rolls with a small plate of butter. Tiny edible flowers decorated the spread, and I shook my head as I used a knife to slather a roll.

“Seventy-seven,” I echoed in disbelief. “I can’t imagine it. Do you ever get bored?”

“No, never. I love life.” She placed her napkin in her lap and shrugged her wings. “I think it is beautiful. I have wonderful friends. This era, despite the tragedies our world endures, has so much charm and ingenuity and hope. Much better than it used to be.”

She had a point. I took a bite of bread and sighed happily, looking down at my pasta and salad. I was going to devour all of it.

“I’m very happy to have you as a friend,” I said.

Lisa’s eyes glistened with tears and she blotted them away before her mascara could run. “I’m very happy to have you as a friend too, Christy.”