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I stare at the man across from me, trying not to feel disappointed that he’s not the sexy suit man I saw at the bar. That said, he’s still pretty handsome. Aquiline nose, black mussed up hair, light eyes that bounce between blue and green. He’s probably in his early thirties, dressed head to toe in black.
Handsome, and a little creepy.
Can’t explain why.
It might be the fact that he just propositioned me at midnight outside my house, and is most likely the guy who’s been following me.
He gives me a quick smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and reaches into his trench coat, swiftly bringing out a business card, sticking it out for me.
I have to take a step closer to him to take it and I don’t let go of my keys. I quickly snatch the card from him and go back to where I was standing, holding it up to the light.
“Atlas Poe,” I read the card. I glance up at him. “That your real name?”
Another quick smile. “I get asked that a lot.”
All the card says is “Atlas Poe” and “The Guild” and a local phone number.
“What do you want?” I ask. “You some Poe fan obsessed with hunting down women named Lenore?”
He shakes his head slightly, eyes looking dark. “Not a fan of Poe, to be honest.” He clears his throat, gaze narrowing as he looks me over, focusing on the tattoos on my legs below my cut-off denim shorts, the ravens that wrap around my calf, the ram on my thigh. “I tried to stop by earlier to speak to your parents.”
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.
