Page 16 of Monster Diner

Steven had never once cooked for her, unless you counted ordering takeout, and he’d certainly never served her. But a lot of her former relationships started out too good to be true. There was Michael, who’d been a total heartthrob but turned out to be a scammer who stole thousands from her, or Derek, who’d planned elaborate dates and texted her every morning and night but turned out to have a wife and kids. Eventually their masks slipped and their true nature came out. She couldn’t let herself be swayed by nice gestures.

“You’re being too nice to me,” she said.

He quirked a brow, pulling the scar above his eye into a wrinkle. “You’re doing something nice for me. It’s the least I could do for you.”

He shook what seemed to be an entire bottle of hot sauce onto his plate. It was more hot sauce than food by the time he took his first bite.

“I forgot how annoying it is that I can’t read your emotions. Do you feel anything at all?” she asked.

Victor laughed. It was a deep, rich sound, like warm coffee. “I feel things, obviously. Frank theorized there’s something about the way I was reanimated that makes me immune to empath magic. He couldn’t sense my feelings either. I think it’s why we worked well together.”

“Wait, Frank was an empath?”

“You didn’t know?”

She shook her head. “I thought he was a kitchen witch?”

“No, his father was a kitchen witch. I know cause Frank said his empath magic is what made him good at his job. He knew exactly what people needed and how to comfort them with food. It charmed customers as good as a magical ability with food.”

Frank, charming? That was not how she would have described him. He was cold, distant, and emotionally shut off. Unlike her mother, who’d been a riot of emotions at all times of the day, Frank was a blank wall of gray. But she’d never asked him what his powers were, and he’d never offered. Could it be he was able to block her out because they had the same sort of magic? Then, why not tell her? She didn’t care how Victor spun it, Frank was a bad dad.

“Interesting.” She picked at her food. Suddenly her appetite was gone.

“If you don’t like that, I can make you something else?” Victor offered.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I should get ready for my shift.” She pushed away from the table and took her mostly full plate to place the food in a container for later. She didn’t want to waste all his hard work.

“Call me if you need anything!” he said as she walked out the door.

The diner was at the end of the house’s driveway. Not a bad commute at all. Now that the sun had set, the red neon glow of the diner’s sign cast crimson light over her as she stepped inside. There was one table occupied by a moth man, who’d ordered a black coffee and nothing else. She relieved Vivianne and met the overnight fry cook, Jason. Because Frank’s Diner catered to every type of paranormal, no matter their cravings, from bloody steaks to blood shakes, they had to be open twenty-four hours.

It was an easy first shift. A few people came in and out. She found what Victor said about Frank Jr.’s empath powers aiding him in his job to be true. She could feel straight away if a customer wanted her to chat or leave. If they were indecisive, she could gently lead them to a menu choice. It felt nice. She was riding high. The nap must have done wonders because she was sailing through the night, with minimal coffee and subsisting off the fries Jason made for her around two a.m.

He was a nice vampire who didn’t talk much but worked quick and, most importantly, was even-tempered. Everything was going great, until water started backing up in a kitchen sink around four in the morning. She discovered the problem after clearing her last table.

“Crap,” she muttered under her breath.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked.

She could feel the spike of his anxiety. “Nothing, just a clogged sink.”

“Oh no, that sink is always clogging up!” His anxiety prodded at her like a needle.

“It’s no big deal. We can call the handyman.” She went over to a piece of paper pinned on the wall. “I’ll call Lucian,” she said, pointing to the number.

She dialed the number, and she felt Jason’s anxiety stabbing into her skull, like a second heartbeat. It made her chest tighten in response. The phone rang, but there was no answer.

“Nothing?” Jason asked.

“Nope, it is kind of late,” she said. “Can it wait until morning?”

She wasn’t especially handy by any means. When she was a kid, her dad had been the one to fix most everything around the diner.

Jason’s anxiety was peaking. It fizzled over her skin, and at the same time, the urge to crawl back inside herself and retreat into that numb place returned.

“It can’t wait. There are dishes that need washing, and it could be a health code violation!”

She had no choice but to call Victor.