Page 40 of Welcome to Fae Cafe
Kate could feel the Prince’s burning rage rippling over her skin on the walk back to the café. But every time she looked behind her, only regular Toronto citizens were going about their business. She took the longest route possible coming home, worried about what might be waiting there.
Lightning burned over the sky, and the air smelled of dampness and chill when she reached her road. Wind ripped down the street, turning the late morning dark and roaring like wailing monsters through the alleys. Normally Kate would have cowered and curled into a ball in such weather, but all she could think about was getting home and locking everything.
The café bell jingled when she entered. She shut the door, imagining a hand smacking the glass on the other side and enraged turquoise eyes glaring through the window.
She took in a deep breath and let it out as she turned the lock.
“Why did I say that to him?” she whispered to herself into the silence. “And why did I laugh?”
“I don’t think you can.”
She moaned and fell into the seat of the closest bistro table. She might as well have invited the Prince to chase her into a dark corner of the city and get his revenge.
Kate hated her impulse to giggle when she was nervous—it made her feel like a child. It was a thing she’d spent years trying to overcome to no avail. Katherine Lewis laughed at inappropriate times—that was the gossip that had followed her all through her early teen years. She’d been told she was rude more times than she could count. She’d been told she was heartless, too. All because she couldn’t keep it together in those terrible moments when she was the most nervous of all.
The scent of old coffee came from where her laptop still sat open with the half-filled mug beside it. She never had a chance to put her things away. She hadn’t even locked the café door—it was a miracle no one had wandered in off the street and stolen her computer.
She left her laptop behind and headed for the stairs, brushing her fingers over her chilly arms.
The lights in her apartment were out and her drapes were drawn, leaving the space in shadow. She headed to her bedroom first. The bony silhouette of the tree outside her window filled the backside of her curtains when lightning flashed over the street.
Kate realized her hands were shaking when she yanked open her dresser drawer. Only one folded sweater rested inside—an oversized hoodie that used to be Greyson’s. She usually only wore it on Saturdays when no one was around to see it.
She sighed, thinking about the yellow knit she’d never see again, and dragged the hoodie out. Her head was still inside it when a loud knock echoed from downstairs, and she froze.
The knock sounded again. Kate fought with the sleeves to get her arms through, and she crept back down to the café, grabbing the broom on her way. She held it above her head and peered around the staircase wall.
No one was at the door. The windows were being splattered with the icy tears of the sky, sending a clapping sound through the hollow café. Kate inched toward them and looked both ways down the sidewalk. She turned the lock and cracked the door open an inch, letting a breath of the storm’s rage rush inside.
Only the violent wind was out there making a ruckus. Not a single pedestrian was in the street, and even the storefronts seemed to be shutting down because of the weather. The lights flickered at the breakfast diner across the road. A second later they went out, along with the streetlamps lining the road, and the buildings in both directions were encompassed in blackness.
Kate flicked the switch for the outside lights, but they remained unlit. She released a heavy breath and started closing the door, wondering where she’d stored the candles. Storms were a thousand times worse when the power was out.
As she turned, someone materialized out of thin air, filling the darkness with a body that wasn’t there a second ago.
Kate stifled a scream as a bronze hand flashed past her and shoved the door the rest of the way shut. She swung the broom, but he smacked it out of her grip, and it tumbled to the floor. The fae grabbed a fistful of Kate’s shirt and nudged her away from the windows and against the wall.
Dark eyes laced with silver took her in. The fae’s skin was as smooth as an acorn shell, his eyes as rich as cocoa and stars. He was as strikingly beautiful as the Prince. Only this close did Kate realize his jean jacket was too snug for his broad muscles and tattoos covered his neck.
“Don’t hurt me,” Kate whispered, and his mouth twitched. “Don’t hurt me, and tell your friends not to hurt me, too. That’s a command.”
The fae’s jaw tightened. “I’ll admit, you think rather fast for a human,” he said darkly. “But this enslavement trick will not save you fromhim. Prince Cressica has never failed to kill his target. Not once. And the longer his target evades him, Human, the worse their death becomes when he finds them.”
Kate swallowed the lump in her throat, her lips shaking over her words. “He sounds like a monster.”
A vicious smile brushed over the fae’smouth. “That’s precisely what he is. The most terrifying beast of the North.”
Thunder boomed outside, and Kate’s skin tightened.
She shook her head to clear it. “I didn’t mean to kill that golden-eyed guy. You’re all after me for something that was an accident.” She pushed against his arms as she spoke, but he was a solid mountain of muscle.
“Perhaps I believe that, Human.” The fae leaned in, dark eyes swimming. “But that doesn’t matter. A fairy law is a fairy law. A broken one is always broken. A killed fairy is a dead fairy any way you look at it,” he said, his fist tightening on Kate’s shirt.
A click filled the café.
From around the large fae body, Lily emerged with her gun pointed at the back of his head. “Get your hands off her,” she said to him. “Now!”
The fae didn’t move.
