Demon Retribution (2 page)

Kyra walked slowly, reluctant to leave her
sanctum. But it would be here tomorrow, and the next day.

After a short jaunt, the scent that was
distinct to every good coffee shop hit her as she entered Little
Jitters. The door chimed. From behind the register, Zoey peeked at
her through a curtain of straight black hair.

“
Morning,” they said in
unison.

Then Zoey did a double take. “Oh, I love
those wicked contacts you wear.”

Kyra smiled, knowing that
her eyes were a unique mix of color: bright green near the pupil,
and fading outward to a deep aqua blue, with faucets of yellow
throughout. It was her natural coloring. She often wore contacts to
disguise them as a very normal brown, which Zoey had mistaken for
her real shade. Today she’d gone
au
naturale
.

Kyra pulled back her hair and slipped on the
tacky, black Little Jitters cap shaped like a coffee bean. Then she
flipped the sign on the door before joining Zoey behind the
counter.

Little Jitters was what some would call a
hole in the wall. The waiting area consisted of a row of bar stools
on one side of the door, and a single small table on the other.
Behind the counter, there was enough room for Kyra and Zoey to work
their stations, but that was it. And behind that, a door led to a
cramped storage room, with a second exit that opened to a dingy
alley, which they shared with other surrounding hole in the wall
businesses.

“
Did you remember to bring
a change of clothes?” Zoey counted the money in the register as she
spoke.

Kyra shoved her satchel, harboring a
scandalous outfit, makeup, brush, and dangerously high heels, into
the small cupboard under the espresso machine. “I did. How about
you?”

“
Yeah.” Zoey’s low tone
made her take notice.

“
What’s up? Do you need a
pick-me-up? You know we work in a coffee shop, right?”

“
Yeah,” she said again.
“It’s not that. I broke up with Kevin last night.” She closed the
register harder than was necessary.

“
Oh.”—
Thank god!
—“I’m sorry.”

Zoey raised a dubious brow.

“
Well, I’m sorry you’re
sad.” Kyra said defensively and turned to check the regular and
decaf coffee pots. “All the more reason to be excited for a full
night of reckless clubbing. We’ll find you a rebound. Hell, we’ll
find you two or three rebounds.”

Zoey smiled at that. They each had the day
off tomorrow, the plan being to change here and go directly to
Element, on the lower east side. Maybe stop in at Mercury Lounge,
dance all night, meet some guys, and get crunked. Not necessarily
in that order.

“
I’ll feel better later,
I’m sure.”

However, through the day, Kyra could see
signs of her inner turmoil. Kevin had been nice to Zoey, at first,
and had even managed to fool Kyra for a time. But the closer Zoey
and Kevin got, the more controlling Kevin became. Without much
doubt, Kyra had predicted what would follow. She had tried to force
herself to butt out. However, even with only two years of working
together, Zoey had become a good friend, despite Kyra’s resistance.
Probably the closest friend she had ever allowed herself to
have.

A few weeks ago, Kevin had started acting
paranoid and accused Zoey of cheating on him. He began calling and
texting her, demanding to know where she was and whom she was with.
He would “surprise” her while she was working and linger in the
shop far too long for comfort.

Finally, Kyra had warned Zoey where the
relationship was headed. But like most people who fancied
themselves in love, she hadn’t listened. There was still a hint of
a shadow under Zoey’s left eye. A large bouquet of flowers had
appeared the same day the mark had.

“
He didn’t hit me again,”
Zoey suddenly blurted as she scrubbed down the counter. Kyra looked
up from filling the sugar bin. At the moment, the shop was empty of
customers.

“
So what
did
happen,
Zo?”

Reluctantly, Zoey lifted her sleeve. An
unmistakable bruise in the shape of a hand peeked out at Kyra. “I
said I needed to run to the store for something, and he yanked me.
He accused me of going to go see another guy.”

Kyra listened quietly, cleaning the same
spot over and over. It would be easy enough to take Kevin out.
Humans were so fragile.

No. Just butt out, she told herself.

“
So,” Zoey continued, “I
asked him to go to the store for me while I fixed dinner, and as
soon as he was out of sight, I packed as much as I could and
bolted.”

“
Good. Wait, does Kevin
know you’re broken up?”

“
I left a note.”

“
Has he contacted you
since?”

“
Some texts. Same stuff as
last time.”

“
I’m sorry,” Kyra repeated,
with nothing better to say.

“
I know I should have
listened to you, but…I liked him so much. And he was helping me pay
Mom’s medical bills.”

Zoey’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer
last year. In the same month, her father had died—whether it was
from natural causes or not, Kyra didn’t know. Zoey wouldn’t speak
of it, and she didn’t push. Now Zo struggled to take care of
everything by herself.

A young couple entered the shop. Zoey
lowered her sleeve, and they both got to work. Kyra prepared the
medium sized, double shot espresso and caramel mocha, while Zoey
tended the register. After taking their drinks, the couple claimed
a seat at the table, chatting quietly between themselves.

Beyond the front glass entrance, across the
street, a man passed by. For some reason, Kyra’s gaze was drawn to
him. She thought she’d seen him before, not too long ago—or at
least, someone in a similar black tank, stylish jeans, and
old-world gangster hat. But then, this was New York. Hundreds of
people passed by every day.

The customers left, giving a brief wave of
thanks as they went. Zoey delved back into private thought. Kyra
wanted to say something comforting, but decided against it.

It was never a good idea for her to get
involved in a particular human’s life. History had proven as
much.

Before modern technological advances, and
the slow disintegration of ancient superstitions, she’d had a hell
of a time staying inconspicuous in the world of man.

In the beginning, she’d tried to integrate
herself into society, masquerading as one of them. The venture had
been next to impossible, at least for any length of time.

For reasons beyond her understanding, people
she’d known for years would develop an irrational desire to remain
close to her, to the point of unhealthy obsession. Not all of them
though. She’d once estimated that it was about one in a hundred.
What’s worse, there was never any warning. No sign above their
heads that said, “Look out Kyra, I’m about to go mad and try to
lock you in my basement.”

When that happened, her magic responded…with
a vengeance. It was the only time she let it free, and she was
reluctant even then. She was never more vulnerable than just after
an episode. As a result, she’d done a lot of running back then, and
even more hiding.

Now, in the twenty-first century, it was
cake to hide in plain sight. There were no societal expectations to
mingle with your neighbors, or make conversation in the street. She
could keep to herself and no one would gossip about the odd lonely
girl with the strange eyes—a birth defect, she would say.

And if a human got any strange impulses
toward her, they were rarely acted upon. If someone saw the rounded
points of her ears, they’d just ask when she’d had it done, and if
it had hurt. Though, most of the time she kept them hidden by her
thick hair to avoid conversations like that. She hated lying. Yet,
it was the only way she could live.

No doubt, if the government found out there
was an honest-to-god alien living among them, she would be strapped
to a gurney for the rest of her life while they dissected every
inch of her.

But despite all this, Kyra had allowed
herself to form an attachment to Zoey that she knew would only end
in a sorrowful departure. She’d been living in New York for far too
long now. Soon it would be time to move, change her last name, and
become someone else. L.A., London, Paris. She had domiciles all
over the world.

The door chimed. Angelo had arrived for his
shift. Kyra looked at the clock, amazed at how quickly the day
passed.

“
Gurl, did you see Project
Runway last night? Those outfits were hideous! I’d be sendin’ all
those mofo’s home.”

Kyra couldn’t help but chuckle. Angelo had
on a pair of bright green skinny jeans and a black and white
patterned top that was painful to look at.

Zoey laughed. “You’re just mad ‘cause you
applied and they rejected you.”

“
Hello, they called me
vanilla!” He motioned from his stylish, burgundy Mohawk to his
brightly decorated combat boots. “Is thisss…vanilla? I don’t think
so.” Chin lifted, he sauntered past them into the back room, to
change into the standard black on black work attire.

Zoey called after him, “Just so you don’t
hear it from somebody else, and get mad at me for not telling you,
I dumped Kevin.”

Dramatically, Angelo poked his head out.
“Whaaat?”

She rolled her eyes and showed him the mark.
The previous incident hadn’t exactly been a secret.

“
Gurl, you just send
him
my
way. I’ll
strap him to my bed and teach him a thing or two about how to treat
a lady.
Okay
?” He
snapped his fingers.

When Angelo disappeared again, Kyra asked,
“So where are you staying?”

“
Well, I was wise enough,
at least, to keep my old apartment.”

“
Okay, good.” She
hesitated. “But if you needed…you know, for a couple of nights or
something…you don’t even have to ask.”

Zo’s head snapped up, and her lips pressed
into a grateful smile. “Thanks.” She looked at the clock. “Where is
Joe?”

“
You know he’s always
late.”

“
Grrr. Well, do you mind if
I go get changed now?”

“
Go ahead. I think I can
handle making a cup of coffee by myself if I need to.”

Twenty minutes later, Joe was tapping his
code into the register. He had his usual California surfer haircut
in perfect disarray.

“
Hey Jo-jo-cup-a-joe,” Zoey
greeted as she traipsed out of the women’s restroom. Her straight
black hair fell over a tight, strapless, glittery dress.

A gurgling sound bubbled out of Joe’s gaping
mouth.

“
Aw, thanks,
Joey.”

Kyra clocked out and retrieved her satchel.
The bathroom light flickered a dull blue.

She pulled out her black heels and set them
aside, then traded her plain black T for a gauzy top that stayed
with nothing but a thin tie in the back and happy thoughts. Her
jeans sat low on her hips and were factory torn in all the right
places, making them look effortlessly sexy. After strapping her
shoes in place, she fluffed her long hair and applied a touch of
make-up.

“
Voilà,” she said to the
mirror.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she found Zoey
on her cell phone, frown in place. She was muttering so no one else
could hear—or so she thought. Joe and Angelo were scowling.

“
No…I don’t want to see you
again…I’ll manage…I don’t care if you’re…just stop…I won’t be
treated like that…it’s over…No…”

Kyra stopped listening. When Zoey finally
hung up, she asked, “Everything okay?”

“
Yeah. If I didn’t answer
he would have just kept calling all night.”

“
Zo, you could just turn
the phone off.”

Zoey frowned. “The hospital might call.”

“
Hospital?”

“
Yeah, I haven’t told
anyone yet. Mom went into surgery yesterday.”

“
Why?”

“
They said the tumor was
spreading so rapidly that if they didn’t try to get it now, it
would be too late.”

“
And she’s still in the
hospital?”

“
She hasn’t woken up yet.
They found a second tumor, wrapped around her spine. They said it
was too advanced to…” Zoey’s jaw clenched, her eyes
glistening.

Kyra put her arms around her while Zoey
silently shook. “We don’t have to go out if—”

“
No, please. If I don’t get
out, I’ll just sit at the hospital and lose it.” She wiped her
eyes. “They said they’d call as soon as she woke up.”

Kyra nodded, knowing what it was like to
want to forget your problems for a night.

Outside, they scarfed down a couple of fully
loaded dirty-water dogs from a nearby vendor and then hailed a
cab.

The club was already packed when they
arrived. Zoey headed for the bar to order their first round of
drinks, while Kyra found the dance floor. Music blasted from the
surrounding speakers. Each harsh beat vibrated through her feet,
making it impossible not to move.

It wasn’t long before a small group of guys
were inching closer, testing the water. Others looked on to see how
they fared. All she’d need to do was smile, and they would be
putty.

She didn’t smile.

Not that she wasn’t interested. She’d had
her share of temporary relationships. A couple of guys had caught
and held her interest for a time. She thought of them fondly now,
but she had never found a deep connection with any of them.