Page 8 of Now You See Me
“Thank you. And please call me Elise. Also, I apologize for staring when I walked in. My friend, the man I’m here to surprise, told me there was a chemical incident in town years ago, but I didn’t realize its effects were widespread.”
“A chemical incident.” The man tilts his head, studying me with his unblinking eyes. “That’s as good a description as any, I suppose. And it explains your easy acceptance of my condition. What monster did your friend become?”
My spine stiffens, a reflex response to the wordmonster, despite his casual and nonjudgmental use. Plus, to call Roan a monster when this man himself is part snake…
“I don’t know what he looks like,” I say. “We haven’t exchanged pictures.”
“But you knew he had changed, and sought him out, sight unseen.” The tip of his black, forked tongue slips out, then what must be the snake equivalent of a smile shifts the line of his mouth. “That takes a special person. Now I understand how you found us.” He retrieves a key from a cabinet behind the desk, then dangles it in front of me. “Room five is ready for you. If you have questions or concerns about anything, don’t be afraid to call the desk. I’m happy to be at your service, anytime.”
“Thank you,” I say, focusing on his face, rather than the coolness of his snakeskin-covered hand when our fingers graze. “Would you like me to pay for the room now, or give you my credit card for a deposit, at least, since I’m not sure how many nights I’ll be staying?”
He shakes his head, a hissing laugh rising from an open mouth that reveals his snake-fang teeth. “We’ll sort that out later. Welcome to the neighborhood, Elise.”
* * *
ROAN
Even in the off-peak hours, Lucky Beans is rarely empty. The coffee shop has been a town staple since my parents opened it, and that didn’t change when a chunk of the local population became monsters. Survival is engrained in the Byrne family. My parents didn’t morph into monsters twenty years ago, but they pivoted regardless. A week after the Halloween festival that changed everything, Lucky Beans had a new menu board with beverages to suit every newly acquired taste in town—and I do meanevery.
Brewed drinks made from ground birdseed instead of coffee beans or tea leaves. Espresso with a shot of ethically obtained blood. Slushy drinks made from frozen, puréed slugs and earthworms. And so on.
A big chunk of the human population abandoned town after the mass transformation. Not my parents. They stayed to support me while I found my footing in a life where I’d never see my feet again. Then continued catering to every customer without bias. Just the same neighborly, honest service they’d always provided.
That’s how I operate Lucky Beans, too. Taking care of my clientele is why I’m in the stockroom unboxing a shipment that literally just arrived. Either my zombie customer up front has incredibly coincidental timing, or he could sniff out the delivery of locally sourced, fresh cow brains as the truck drove through town.
I’m on my way to the front of the shop with a shrink-wrapped package of spongy pink brain meat when I hear the voice I’d recognize anywhere. The voice that’s been in my ear every night since our first phone call. The voice that makes my pulse kick up a couple notches, and diverts all available blood to my cock.
“Hi… I’m looking for Roan,” Elise says to Melinda, my full-time employee. “Can I see him?”
“Can you see him?” Melinda is an amazing employee. She’s also an overprotective friend. “Are you kidding?”
“No, or I wouldn’t have asked.” Elise’s voice is surprisingly calm and steady considering she’s face to face with an agitated monster.
From my hiding place on the opposite side of the doorway, I hear Mel’s teeth chatter. Not a good sign.
When Melinda unknowingly drank the monster-making punch, short quills sprouted from her skin. When she’s calm, they lay relatively flat, like short fur. But when her emotions are heightened, those quills bristle up like a battle-ready porcupine. The chattering sound is part of the physical response.
I don’t know why Elise is in my shop, but I can’t go out there. Retreating deeper into the stockroom, I carefully close the office door, pull my phone from my pocket and call Lucky Beans’ number. The line rings out front—once, twice, three times. Shit.
Finally, Mel answers. Since we have caller I.D., she knows it’s me. “Lucky Beans,” she says in a tight tone. “How can I help you?”
“Hey. Sorry to abandon you out there. I’m in the office. The woman who’s looking for me is a friend. Actually—” I blow out a breath. “She’s a lot more than a friend. But it’s been online, and completely non-visual. She doesn’t know I’m invisible, or about monsters.”
“Hmm… Yes, that used to be the case, but the latter portion of the menu has changed,” Mel says. “You should come and check it out in person. I think you’d be surprised at the options available to you now.”
I grunt at the coded message. “Not happening. Tell her I’m not here. That you’re not sure when I’ll be back, or if it will be today. Get rid of her, but be nice about it, please. She’s a good person, and she’s important.”
Mel makes a purely human, clearly disapproving tongue-clicking sound. “Well, I hope you change your mind and come by before we sell out of somethingimportantyou’d clearly love.”
I cringe as dead air replaces Mel’s disappointed voice. I silence my phone and leave it on the desk, then remove the metal-mesh barista apron and gloves I wear. Going out the rear door would be safer, but I walk into the front of the shop instead. I never would’ve asked Elise for a picture. Now that she’s here, I can’t resist seeing her. And the moment I do, I feel as if I’ve been sucker punched.
She’s beautiful. So damn beautiful.
“I wish I could tell you,” Mel says to her. “Roan had to chicken out. Wait, that’s not the saying.Duck out.He had to duck out. I’m not even sure if he’ll be back.”
“He was here a few minutes ago,” my oh so helpful zombie customer offers. “He went in the back to unpack a shipment of brains that just came in. And I know they were delivered. I can smell them.”
Elise’s gaze widens as she turns to look at the gray-skinned man.
