Page 2 of Icy Heart, Empty Chest
Her face darkened in a deep blush and Damien stepped out of line, putting his change in the tip jar. It was more than the cost of the drink.
“See you guys tomorrow.”
After Mr Katos walked away with his food, Marie whirled on me. “Not nice, Cora! He doesn’t seem like some evil mastermind, just a sweet and handsome guy.”
“There are a thousand faerie tales about not being fooled by a nice face.”
She sighed. “At least don’t be rude to him, OK?”
I shot her a withering look. “Alright.”
“One of these days I might actually get the courage to ask him out.” She turned her attention to the register, suddenly interested in the buttons.
I rubbed my forehead. This headache was coming on fast today.
“You know I can’t stop you either way. Just be careful.” I made my way to refill the ice containers. Marie skipped after me, blonde hair flouncing. “You’re sure?”
“Look, if I haven’t been able to dissuade you by now, I’ll never be able to. I don’t even know why he bothers to greet me. Probably ’cause we went to school together.”
She beamed and threw her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you!” The door pinged again and she ran out to the front with a smile that could stun any living creature. I picked up the ice and felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. Putting down the ice, my own face lit up when I saw the message Finneas sent.
“Oh, it’s real alright. Be around soon with details and the offer.”
Letting out my own little squeal, I charged back out with the ice, looking forward to when I’d see my goblin fence. We had a simple arrangement: I smuggle the goods to him, he puts his feelers out for a buyer, we split the profit. So far, I had a nice tidy sum sitting in a bank account for later use. I never touched that account. If I needed more, I’d pick up more shifts but I’d never touch it while I could help it.
As much as Dad was a fan of hard work and dedication to craft, I know he wouldn’t want his only child to be a smuggler. I just happened to be very good at it. All the time in his shadow, traveling with him dealing art and antiquities, gave me a lust for the hunt. I just happened to find out early on that legal wasn’t always the most profitable. It was just a matter of time. A few more scores and I could go somewhere, start over, and be whomever I wanted to be.
I didn’t hate this job. Once Amy disappeared home past two, it was a lot easier. Some college kids would come in and study in the booths with frequent refills. The second shifters would come in, the people needing a pick me up after work.
The bell rang and I looked up. Finneas’s grey skin looked extra shiny today and his four-foot stature strolled in, confident and secure. Marie knew that he was a friend of my father’s, just not that he was my colleague in less than savory things.
“Hey kid.” Marie stood aside and waved. “Hi Marie,” he said, more dreamily.
I put down his large hot coffee with a knowing look. “She’s way too young for you, old man.”
He raised his eyebrow as I took his money. “A guy can dream,” he said with a shrug.
“That’s something you can keep to yourself.”
He pretended to scroll through his phone but tipped it down so that I could see over the counter. There it was, dark red, the size of both of my small hands combined.
“How good is your source?” I pretended to be busy with the register, speaking in low tones.
“Known the witch for years. I trust her.”
“Any idea why?”
“Why what?”
“Why a person would yank out their heart like that.” I pushed the register drawer closed.
He threw me a mocking look. “Have we ever cared why? Or just that it happens?”
It was my turn to shrug. “Just curious.”
“Keep those pointy ears open for anything.” I nodded. “I don’t think I need to tell you the take on this one.”
“More than enough, my friend,” I muttered as Marie came closer.
