Page 19 of Coven of Corpses

“Demetrius!” Margie stood behind the counter that ran along the wall separating the dining area from the kitchen. Locals occupied a few of the stools bolted to the floor along the counter, and Demetrius exchanged nods with them. Margie had her dark hair up in a bun on the back of her head covered by a hairnet. She looked like she was ready for the approaching spring season with green and yellow eye shadow and bright red lipstick. “I haven’t seen you boys for a while. Cody’s family still in town?”

“Yeah, through the weekend, most likely,” Demetrius said.

“Well I’m glad you were able to break away and come in today. Anyone joining you?”

“Cody should be.”

She nodded as she wrapped another set of silverware inside paper napkins. “Go ahead and sit wherever you want. I’ll come over in a minute. Iced tea?”

“Yes, please. Thanks.”

The dining area was longer than it was wide. Square tables surrounded by chairs populated the middle of the space, and booths were positioned in front of the big glass window in front and along the side wall. Demetrius threaded his way through the tables to a booth near the back. This had become their usual spot, and he savored the familiarity as he slid onto the vinyl seat facing the door.

Maybe he could get a job at Margie’s. Start off as a busboy and work his way up.

He made a face and shook his head. That wouldn’t be a good fit for him.

Unrolling a set of silverware, he folded the paper wrapper into a small, compressed square. That was not at all symbolic to the crushing weight of guilt he felt over being unemployed. Nope.

To keep his thoughts from spiraling, he instead considered Cody’s text. He hadn’t provided any details, just asked if Demetrius could get away and meet for a late lunch at Margie’s to talk. There’d been so much going on recently, their topic of conversation could cover pretty much anything.

Margie brought a couple of iced teas in the familiar plastic tumblers. She slid into the booth across from him with a grunt, then smiled.

“How’s Cody holding up?”

“He’s doing okay.” Demetrius smiled and shrugged. “I don’t think either of us will be sad when everyone goes back home.”

“Family can be a difficult gift sometimes. With no receipt.”

They both laughed at that.

“How about you?” Demetrius asked. “How are you doing?”

She looked around the diner. “Business has been steady. Back to making a bit of a profit again now that all that werewolf and vampire nonsense is over.” She turned back. “Anything new going on I should know about?”

Demetrius scrunched up his face. “I really don’t know, to be honest.”

“Oh, dear.” The bell above the door jingled, and Margie got up, calling to the new arrivals—a young couple, smiling and appearing cloyingly happy—to sit wherever they liked before looking back at Demetrius. “I thought when you boys stopped catching critters that would be the end of this stuff.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too,” Demetrius said. “But I guess the town has other plans.”

She lowered her voice and leaned in slightly. “What is it this time?”

“Not quite sure. I’ll let you know when we have more information.”

Margie nodded once and took hold of the silver St. Christopher’s medal she wore around her neck. She had given it to Demetrius years ago, after they’d escaped capture together, and it had saved his life in one of his fights against Nicolae, the alpha werewolf. After they’d defeated Nicolae, Demetrius had returned it. Now, she rubbed her thumb across the medal as she headed off to the happy young couple.

Demetrius sipped his iced tea and looked at social media, then checked a couple of headlines on some of the major news apps. He instantly regretted it and closed everything down. Was any good news to be found anywhere?

The bell jangled again and Demetrius looked up. A familiar spike of emotions sizzled through him, twisted together like the wires connecting a switch to a light. It was want and need, and they always arrived together when he saw Cody.

The other diners watched Cody move through the tables, because of course they did. He moved with a grace that came naturally to a long-time athlete: hips moving, shoulders rolling, legs strong and head up. Demetrius wondered—not for the first or last time—what it would feel like to be Cody. To move with that confidence, to take up that solid space in the world and have people look at him with something other than dismissal, if they took any notice at all.

Cody looked good, of course, because he always did. But the last few weeks had been hard, and Demetrius could see the toll it had taken. It was visible in the lines of his face and the bruised skin beneath his eyes. Neither of them were sleeping well on that torturous sofa hide-a-bed, but Cody was having an especially difficult time because he was so tall.

So tall, and so grouchy, and so undeniably his, all Demetrius could do was smile.

Cody dropped into the booth across from him. The table rocked slightly, the iced teas threatening to overflow. Demetrius could relate to both.