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Uneasiness prickles my skin. “It’s midnight. You’re lucky you even caught me.” I pause, feeling brave. “Was that you following me earlier? In Upper Haight?”
He frowns. “Someone was following you?”
I study him for a moment. I don’t think he’s pretending.
“Yeah. Or maybe not,” I tell him. I sigh. The guy is still creeping me out, but I feel a smidge better knowing it wasn’t him. His shoulders are broad but not quite broad enough to match what I saw. “So, what do you want with us?”
He stares at me for a moment, then glances up at my parents’ house. “I’m an associate of your parents.”
“What kind of associate?” My parents work for the California and San Francisco Historical Societies. All their co-workers are hella boring.
He brings his gaze back to mine. “I represent a section of the guild that they belong to.”
“There’s a guild of historians?”
“Something like that.”
“So just call them like a normal person. Send an email. Don’t accost their daughter outside her place at midnight.”
“My apologies,” he says. “I just…” He peers at my chest, and for a moment I think he’s checking out my boobs, but then I remember I buttoned my plaid shirt all the way up. He’s staring at the black skull pendant on the end of one of my many necklaces.
“Black tourmaline,” he says softly, glancing up to meet my eyes.
I frown. “What?”
“Your necklace. It’s black tourmaline.”
I glance down at it, letting the black skull dangle from my fingers. I always assumed it was onyx or something.
“Did your mother give that to you?” he asks.
I make a fist around the skull. “Yeah…”
“Interesting,” he says. Then he offers me a quick smile. “Well, I’m sorry to disturb you so late at night, Lenore. I’ll be sure to drop your parents an email. Again.”
And at that, he turns and walks down the street, his black trench coat flapping behind him until they both merge into the darkness.
I watch the empty space, the street seeming to turn into a black hole, and then I quickly turn, shoving my keys into the door and stepping inside my apartment.
Sanctuary.
I lock the door, checking several times to make sure it’s secure, then go around to the windows in the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom, and bathroom and make sure they’re locked too. Even though I don’t normally go to sleep until 2 a.m., I quickly get into my nightgown, then go into the bathroom to take off my makeup. I look in the mirror.
Ugh.
I forgot that Matt had kissed me, so I was talking to Atlas that whole time with red lipstick smeared over my lips. Combine that with the fact that my hair is looking unruly and my mascara is smudged under my eyes, it’s no wonder Atlas seemed a little apprehensive about me.
Then again, I’m the one who had every reason to be apprehensive.
I quickly wash my face and crawl into bed, hoping sleep will come for me earlier than usual.
Thankfully, it does.
* * *
The next morning, I wake up tangled in my necklaces. I guess I forgot to take them off last night.
I delicately wrap my fingers around them, careful not to break the thin chains as I pull them away from my neck, briskly rubbing my fingers over the indents left in my neck.
And then everything about last night comes flooding back to me.
The man under the streetlamp.
The man in the suit.
Matt kissing me.
A man named Atlas Poe at the door.
I pull back the skull, staring at the stone. Black tourmaline? I’ll have to ask my mom. I have a lot of questions for her now.
I roll out of bed and blink at the light streaming in through my bedroom window, my eyes straining. They’re especially sensitive this morning, probably from all the drinks I had. I’m glad I don’t have a hangover though. I must have fallen asleep right away, so that helped.
I stagger to the bathroom, filling a glass with water and downing it, repeating the motions a few times, before I get into the shower, trying to wash away the night before.
When I feel clean enough, my head a little brighter, I get dressed in my studying clothes, leggings and a long burgundy sweater, putting my rings, bracelets, and necklaces back on, wrapping my hair into a towel. I have long light-brown hair, but I get blonde highlights done every so often, so I should probably take better care of them and do hair masks and the like, but my beauty practices always fall to the wayside when it comes to school.
I put on my slippers and pad over to the kitchen, searching for coffee for my French press. I should have got more Blue Bottle last night, but I know my parents have a ton of Peets upstairs, so I send my mom a quick text: COMING UP FOR COFFEE and then I grab my keys and head out the door. It doesn’t matter that I have a towel on my head, I’m only outside for a second, using the key to their house and unlocking their door.
