Page 11 of Nora's Kraken

“Touched? Or grabbed?” Kenna asks, also going into protective mode.

Shorter than me or Holly, with a pinup figure and long, curly auburn hair, Kenna is chaos to Holly’s cool control.

“Touched,” I say. “Definitely touched. And he backed right off when he saw how much it upset me.”

Neither of them looks like they’re fully buying it.

“Do you think he’s like Daniel?” Kenna asks.

Just the sound of my ex’s name is like a bucket of cold water poured over my head. I’ve been asking myself that same question for the last three days, and I don’t think I’m anywhere close to having an answer.

“I don’t know,” I say, taking a long sip of my wine. “I really don’t know anything about him.”

Kenna studies me thoughtfully, green eyes narrowed and hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head. She was the first friend I made after moving to the city, when she was also working at Tandbroz.

Her brash, confident attitude, endlessly extroverted personality, and warm kindness all but guaranteed she’d get her way in making the two of us friends once she’d decided it was something she wanted to do. Even after she left that job, she didn’t leave me behind, bringing me into a fold of new friends that made being here in Seattle so, so much easier.

I eventually trusted her, and Holly, with the details about what actually brought me here, even if it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

Well, maybe second hardest.

The hands-down hardest thing was my decision to flee DC. There really wasn’t another option, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t lived with the consequences of it every single day since.

It would be too easy to let myself be sucked back into that place, like I always seem to when the subject comes up. Fear, paranoia, the knowledge I lost nearly every part of myself in that relationship and the doubt I have that I’ll ever be able to put all those pieces back together.

“What if he’s not?” Kenna prods gently. “What if he’s a good guy? And, I mean, a kraken? You’ve got to be interested in what that would be like.”

Out of the three of us, Kenna’s the eternal optimist. She’s also had the most experience dating paranormals, with the last couple of guys she’s dated being a gargoyle and a demi-fae, respectively.

“Sure,” I relent, cautiously. “Maybe I am a little curious—”

Kenna smirks at that. I ignore her.

“But, the whole ‘you’re my mate’ thing? What am I supposed to do with that? I don’t even know this guy, and he’s probably already looking for a lifelong commitment.”

Kenna makes a small, thoughtful noise as she considers that. “What do you think, Hol?”

Holly’s been silent for the last few minutes, but pipes up when Kenna asks, holding her hands up in mock-surrender. “I don’t think I’m the best person to be giving relationship advice right now, given how much of a cluster my own love life is.”

“Sorry,” I say, feeling horribly insensitive. “I don’t mean to be such a downer. You don’t need to be dealing with all my drama, too.”

“It’s alright,” Holly says. “Just because I got dumped doesn’t mean I’m the only person in the world with problems.”

Dumped is an understatement. Her boyfriend of four years up and left out of the blue a couple of months ago, and I know she’s still struggling to find her balance.

“And anyway,” Holly continues. “Maybe Kenna’s got the right idea about dating paranormals. I mean, they can’t be worse than human guys, right?”

“Right,” Kenna agrees. “And you would not believe some of the—”

“Hnng,” I grunt, covering my ears. “Please. Nothing about your boyfriends’ monster penises.”

“Hey now, you might be dealing with a monster penis of your own pretty soon. It’s only fair I get to share.”

I can’t help it, I laugh. It’s the first genuine laugh I’ve had in a week and I’m grateful to know I’ve still got it in me. This week has been long and endless, and by some miracle I have a half-day shift tomorrow, and then a whole two days off before I start a few days of long shifts on Monday. Unfortunately, that will also probably give me a whole lot more free time to obsess about the kraken.

Leaning back against Holly’s couch from where I’m seated on the floor, I close my eyes and let out a long breath, thinking.

“What if Daniel somehow finds out?” I ask. “Elias seems… connected. High profile. Why do I feel like dating him would just be asking for trouble?”

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