Page 25 of Death Raiser

“That wasn’t my intention, but yeah. He would’ve seen the footage and figured out I had purposefully stomped on him.”

Estelle lifted her glass and smiled. “I knew I liked you.”

I clinked Estelle’s glass with my own before taking a sip.

“Now. Tell me about this cop.” Estelle leaned back in the booth. “It’s your turn to share a story, after all. Tit for tat, buttercup.”

I choked on my drink. Kang was the last thing I wanted to talk about…even if he was constantly on my mind.

Chapter Eight

With Pierre holding the door open, I stepped into the calm ambience of the dimly lit café that sat across the street from Spiral. The warm air surrounded me, and I paused to deeply inhale the scents of rich, freshly brewed coffee and baked goods. When I opened my eyes, I found Pierre looking at me oddly.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I love coffee,” I said.

He pursed his lips and glanced at the menu. “Things have changed an awful lot since I went in the ground.”

I frowned. Pierre might be French, but he went into the ground in Victoria, BC, not France, so he unlikely predated the introduction of coffee to Western Europe. I had a hard time imagining Gregor and his posse being a part of the fur trade. But Pierre definitely predated cafés on every corner and cell phones in everyone’s hands. He certainly held the phone Gregor had gifted him oddly and still texted with as many fingers as possible.

A barista stepped up to the counter and reached over with a white cloth to wipe the surface. He had a familiar face. “What can I get you guys?”

Where did I know this guy from?

The memory clicked in place.

Right. The same barista had served me and Kang when we were busy chasing that angry, murdering spirit. We ended up catching the spirit, but the necromancer who raised him was still a mystery.

What was the barista’s name again? He’d made a point of telling me when we were here, and Kang had accused me of breaking hearts wherever I went.

The barista waited. He had a lean, wiry build and stood around six feet tall. Brown hair curled around his ears, and he wore a black collared shirt with the top two buttons unfastened to show off a chest tattoo and gold chain. He was pleasant enough to look at, but right now, the only one stirring any kind of heat in my blood was a grumpy detective.

God, I was pathetic.

“It’s a latté, right?” the barista asked.

I rocked back on my heels. I mean, he was right…

“I never forget a pretty face.” He flashed me a wide smile.

Estelle elbowed me in the side and lifted her eyebrows. Yeah, I wasn’t picking up a barista tonight, even if it meant he probably loved coffee as much as I did.

“You have a great memory. I’d love a latté, thank you,” I said. “And before my friends try to pay, this is on me.”

Estelle tsked and Pierre frowned. The other guard—name still unknown—just grunted. She probably wasn’t going to drink any coffee anyway.

“Of course,” the barista said before turning to Estelle. “And what can I get you?”

“I’ll have the same, please.” Estelle glanced at the two vampires who promptly shook their heads. “And that will be all.”

The barista nodded and told me the total. I paid by slapping my credit card against a machine a couple of times before it dinged to let me know it had successfully taken my money.

“I’ll bring the drinks out to you,” the barista said.

“Thanks.” I turned to discover Estelle and the female vampire guard had gone ahead to find seats while Pierre had stayed behind with me.

“You go ahead, ma belle,” Pierre said. “I’ll bring the drinks out.”

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