“Is that your name or a nickname?”
“Nickname. Our boss is cool, he allows us to use nicknames.”
“So, what’s your real name? Dick?”
“Ha ha, you’re funny. I use a nickname because I don’t like my real name.”
“What is it, like William Charles Carlton III?” I asked, throwing out the most dickish name I could come up with on the spot.
“You a biker? We don’t get many bikers in here.” He changed the subject.
“Yeah, I’m a biker,” I said with pride, puffing my chest. It had taken a long time for me to get comfortable riding a bike again on my own, so afraid an MC would recognize me and come after me, but the Crypt Keepers had done their job well way back when. More than three years had given me back that edge I once had.
“Yeah? Which club do you belong to?”
“What the hell does that matter?” I snapped.
“No reason, just making small talk,” he added. He didn’t show fear, just curiosity.
“If you must know, I’m the new leader of the Midnight Saints, and this coffeehouse happens to be in our territory.”
“Oh, those are good guys. You guys do lots of charity work for the children’s hospital, right? So, do you just look badass, or are you really badass and covering your shit by doing charity work?”
I glared at him. “You’re an asshole.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He didn’t skip a beat and suddenly I was intrigued by this black-wearing freak.
“I don’t answer assholes. So, what about you? What are you? Emo? Goth?”
“Answer my question, I’ll answer yours,” he said as he prepared the hot chocolate.
“Give me the fucking hot chocolate, asshole.”
He laughed.
“Wow, you’re kind of a bitch.”
“You have no idea.” I smirked.
“Bet you’re fun in bed, though.” He took me off guard. “You look like the kind of girl who could rock a man’s world,” he said as he poured the hot chocolate into the cup and added the whipped cream. “I get off at ten, if you ever get lonely.” He winked.
“I only fuck bikers,” I said, disgusted that he would offer me sex. “But let me know if you ever want to become a prospect. Plenty of room for more asshole bikers.”
“Too bad, you don’t know what you’re missing.” He capped the hot chocolate and pushed it forward. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“You’re full of yourself, Draco.”
“Neither.”
“What?”
“I’m neither emo nor goth.”
“Then what the fuck are you?”
“I would think the pentagram would give it away.”
“Do you worship the devil?”
“That’s offensive,” he snapped as he prepared the next drink for the customer behind me.
“Well, I don’t know what the fuck a pentagram is for.” I grabbed Reagen’s drink and turned to leave.
“Nice chatting with you, President Reagen.” He winked.
“Oh, I’m not Reagen. I’m someone else.” I smiled and then walked back to Reagen. “Here.”
“Thanks! Were you flirting with that hottie at the counter?”
“I guess that’s what was happening. He offered to fuck me after work.”
“Oh my gosh! What did you say?” Reagen laughed.
“I only fuck bikers.” I laughed.
“You wouldn’t make an exception for that hottie?” she asked, glancing back at him.
“I don’t know. Do you think I should? Do you know what a pentagram is?” I asked before taking a sip of my now cooled coffee.
“Yeah, it’s what devil worshipers wear,” she answered without skipping a beat.
“That’s what I thought too, but he took offense to that.” I stole a glance at Draco. Reagen was right, he was hot.
“Of course, he did, they don’t like to admit it,” Reagen said. “I don’t know, maybe you can Google it.” She laughed.
“So, we were talking about—”
“How I survived. Yeah, I did. Now, I want to live again, but I still feel like someone is going to come after me, and so does Seth—”
“Wait, devil worshipers do curses, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I have an idea.” I got back up and went back to the counter. “Hey, Draco, can you cast a curse?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I can. Why?”
“What would you need?”
“Depends on the curse.”
“Can you curse someone to die?”
“Uh, no.”
“What about cause a serious accident?”
“Yeah, possibly, but that would cost you. You must really hate this person.”
“See that girl over there?”
“I see a woman over there.”
“Shut up. That’s my friend, Reagen.”
“Oh, that’s Reagen.”
I nod, a smug look coming over me. He didn’t believe me. “Yeah, so look, she got beat up really bad by her ex, and I need you to cast a curse on his family and friends. What’s the worst thing you could do to them?”
“I’d have to consult my book of curses.”
“You’re a devil worshiper, I’m sure the devil can help you.”
“Not a devil worshiper.”
“But you said you can cast curses.”
“Yeah, because I’m a warlock.”
“A what now?”
“Male witch.” He said it like it was supposed to be common knowledge and not a fucking weird thing to say at all.
“Okay, whatever, as long as you can cast a curse.”
“Come back tomorrow, I’ll have a list of curses for you to pick from.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll need a hundred bucks to cast it.”
“I can manage that.”
I returned to the table. “He’s not a devil worshiper, he’s a male witch, but whatever, he’s going to curse your dead ex-boyfriend for me for good measure and everyone related to him or supporting him, and then you never have to deal with that asshole again.”
“Thanks, Kara.” She smiled, but I could tell she didn’t believe in all that juju. I didn’t know if I did either, but it was worth a try to have every possible power on our side. I knew all about bad men getting their way no matter how much you tried to bury them.
“Sure thing. If it works, I’ll curse my father. Won’t that be the perfect revenge on The Preacher?”
We fell silent again as we both enjoyed our drinks and got lost in our own
