Page 27 of The Cursed Chalice
Deimos leans back in the chair and widens his legs. “Your heart is hammering. Why is that?” He smiles, and his dimples deepen. “Wait, you are afraid. The god of fucking war is afraid…of what exactly?”
“Stay out of my head, Deimos!” I grunt, and my fist tightens on the armrest of the chair.
“Hmm.” His gaze moves to my hands. “I don’t have to read your mind. I am just listening to the parts of you that are screaming for help.”
He reaches forward and holds the chalice in his hand. It takes all of me not to grab it from him.
Deimos closes his eyes and inhales. “You’re afraid of failing again. Of loving again.”
“Deimos,” I warn.
Deimos throws back his head and cackles, his chains jingling around his neck. “This is fucking rich. So, if you fall for the new girl, you have to kill her to save your old one.”
When he says it that way… “It’s not that.”
Deimos brings the chalice to his nose and inhales. “It is. Love lies; faith lies. But fear, I can smell fear, and it always tells me the truth.”
With that, he puts the chalice back on the table and disappears.
SORAYA
Shit, my head hurts, and my stomach is not happy with my life’s decisions. This morning, I woke up to a sweet scent that I couldn’t identify mixed with cigarette smoke. I couldn’t find the chalice. I looked everywhere. I couldn’t make a police report because I was still “missing.” I think someone may have stolen it while I was sleeping. That means someone was in my room while I was out. That is dangerous.
I think that tonight may be the last night that I stay at this motel.
“Order up!” the cook shouts out, breaking me away from my thoughts. I found a newspaper on my way to Gina’s Diner. I didn’t know if people still read newspapers since our phones have replaced every aspect of our lives. Nevertheless, I was thankful because the classified section was the only way I could look for a job right now.
I tug my cap lower on my head, keeping my face over the newspaper. I picked a booth in the far corner of the diner. It feels safer. I may be free of my marriage, but I am not free from discovery. Now to find a job. I begin to circle some jobs. I circle a dog-sitter job and a housekeeping position at a hotel.
What am I even doing? I don’t even know if I should go to the police. Should I go to a news station? I ran away with no plan. I have my cousin’s card and some money left from selling my dress. Eventually, it will all run out. What do I do?
“I love your tote.” I hear a sultry voice beside me. I look up, and a woman leans casually against my booth. She’s wearing black jeans and a grey T-shirt with the word “Rival” on it. I guess it’s a rock band from the design of the font. Her dark hair falls in a perfect middle part. It stands out against her pale skin. But it was more than just her clothing and hair. She has a presence that demands your attention…like a goddess.
Shit. I’m staring, so I smile awkwardly, touching the black and grey tote. “Thank you.”
The waitress hurries towards me with a black tray. “Sorry to keep you waiting, darling.”
She stops at my table and places a cup of my black coffee and buttered toast.
“What, are you allergic to meat or something?” the goddess-looking lady asks.
I chuckle. “No, I, um, I just—” My eyes drift to the grease-sweating cook through the window.
“Cautious because the cook is sweating over your food, and it might drop into your bacon?”
I snort. “Exactly.”
The woman turns to the counter as the cashier asks for her order.
I take a bite of my toast and continue to circle jobs in the newspaper.
“Anyone sitting here?”
I look up, and it’s the gorgeous lady again. “No,” I say.
She blinks at me and raises her eyebrows. “Sooo can I sit here?”
“Sure,” I reply. God, I hope she doesn’t ask too many questions. I should have told her no. My head is still pounding slightly. She could be working for Elias. Shit, I didn’t think of that. The runaway bride thing is not my forte.
