Page 12 of Blind Bite
The campus coffee shop buzzed with the usual morning crowd, but the line moved quickly. Behind the counter, a new barista caught my eye. Tall, dark hair, a jawline that could cut ice, and hazel eyes that looked like molten gold.
“Welcome to Spill The Beans. What can I get you?” His smile revealed dimples. Ugh, DIMPLES!
“Large caramel latte please, with an extra shot.” I fumbled with my wallet, suddenly feeling nervous that those hazel eyes were locked onto me.
“Name for the order?”
“Lilith.”
“I like that.” He wrote on the cup with a flourish. “Like the demon queen?”
My heart skipped. Was I really having a conversation with the hot as hell barista? “That’s the one. Though, I promise I’m less into stealing souls once I’ve had my caffeine for the day.”
His deep chuckle filled the space. “Good to know. I’m safe then?”
“Mostly.” I handed over my card, telling myself this was not flirty banter. He was just being nice, but maybe there was something there…
Then Beckett’s stupid face flashed through my mind. The way he’d smiled at me across the restaurant table. The utter silence that followed what I thought had been a great night.
The barista—his name tag read “Evan”—handed back my card, fingers brushing mine. “One demon queen special coming up.”
I stepped aside to wait, my mood crashing faster than a sugar rush. What was I doing? Getting excited over someone taking my order when I clearly had no sense of when a guy was actually interested in me?
My phone buzzed. Another class reminder. I grabbed my drink, muttering a quick thanks without meeting Evan’s eyes. The cup had a little devil doodle next to my name, but I couldn’t appreciate the artistry anymore.
Back outside, I took a sip and grimaced. The coffee was perfect—which somehow made everything worse. I hightailed it out of there before I was late to my favorite teacher’s lecture.
After crossing the courtyard and making it to the English lecture hall, I prayed I’d get lucky and Professor Holloway wouldn’t have it out for me today. I mean, I was on time, after all.
I slid into my seat just as the professor closed the classroom door with a resounding click. My heart still raced from sprinting across campus, but at least I’d made it.
Opening my laptop, I couldn’t help but smirk at the memory of the paper I had submitted last night. The assignment was on ancient Mesopotamian blood demons aka Lilith, who supposedly drank the blood of children. Real subtle, Holloway. I’d made sure to add a note thanking him for the personalized reading material.
“Before we begin today’s lecture on Romanian folklore,” Holloway’s voice disrupted the classroom chatter, “I need to address recent events.” He perched on the edge of his desk, his usual scowl deeper than usual. “Three students were attacked near Wilson Street last night. Two more went missing over the weekend.”
The room fell silent. Even the constant tapping of keyboards stopped.
“I don’t care if you think you’re invincible. I don’t care if you have pepper spray or take self-defense classes.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “No one—and I mean no one—should be out alone after dark. Campus security has increased patrols, but we know they’re nothing more than glorified mall cops. Your penchant for late night socialization should not be an excuse to test your luck.”
A girl near the front raised her hand. “What happened? Were they... you know... killed?”
“They’re in the hospital,” Holloway’s jaw tightened. “The details aren’t clear yet, but they barely survived a brutal attack. What matters most is staying vigilant. Travel in groups. Use the campus escort service. And for god’s sake, stop taking shortcuts through the woods.”
I shifted in my seat, remembering how I’d cut through there just last week to make it to my apprenticeship on time. Sometimes it was a necessity.
“Now,” Holloway clicked to his first slide, “let’s discuss the historical significance of the strigoi in Eastern European mythology.”
I slumped lower in my seat as Professor Holloway droned on about the old tale. My pencil traced idle patterns in my notebook—definitely not the notes I should’ve been taking. My imagination drifted towards a million scenarios I hoped would never occur. Lacey or Amelie being jumped on the way home from a party, me waiting up only for them never to return home. Or the possibility of getting attacked on my way home from work. Holloway’s dry delivery of recent events didn’t help my mood. The way he kept glancing in my direction made my skin crawl. Did he know I’d been one of those shortcut-takers? No, no, that’d be ridiculous. My assignment commentary has probably landed me on his shit list for the day. It was worth it. And it’s the least important thing right now if students were going missing. What was the school doing about it? Why hadn’t Amelie and I heard about it?
“The strigoi were believed to be restless spirits, rising from their graves to drink the blood of the living.” Holloway paced the front of the room. “Unlike modern vampire mythology, they maintained their original appearance?—”
My phone vibrated in my pocket. When I pulled it from my pocket, Amelie’s name flashed across the screen.
* * *
Amelie
Girl, Marcus is on my case over last night.
