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“Your what?”
“You know,” Sienna said, “my last resort.”
Sherri took a moment to gulp down a surely scalding swallow of her coffee and said, “That wraps me around to dates One and Two. What was so wrong with them that they didn’t work for a fling? You couldn’t try that fake relationship thing you pulled in college?”
Sienna laughed briefly. “Do you remember how mad Maya was?”
Sherri grinned. “Livid. I’ve never been so scared of her.”
That was precisely why Sienna would never go for the fake relationship stunt again. But an agreed temporary fling? That was on the table. With the right guy. She drew a breath and launched into explaining why her first date, who had been so outwardly her type, was so immediatelynotin person. And how her second date had been a really comfortable emotional match despite not being her idea of attractive—but that had become the problem. He very quickly felt brotherly, which she could not tolerate for a boyfriend. This wrapped them back to Monday’s date. Good looking, said all the right things, and not an ounce of chemistry.
“Wow,” Sherri said when Sienna was done. Both their cups had been depleted and subsequently removed by a passing employee, giving them more room to lean over the table and talk quieter. Sherri’s gape seemed permanent. “Okay, I understand, but … maybe this really isn’t the time? You know, to look for something you can actually work with.”
That was what Sienna was afraid of. “I’m not giving up,” she said instead. She straightened and tapped her phone a heartbeat after it lit up with the alarm she’d set to remind herself of her outstanding responsibilities. “At least, not until Friday.” She couldn’t say she was enthusiastic about Eddie.
“Well, call me on Friday,” Sherri said. She straightened as well and reached for her large bag-style purse. “Tell me everything. We’ll make another coffee date if we have to, since you’re such an addict.”
“Uh-huh.” Sienna rolled her eyes. “Says the sleep-deprived mom.”
Sherri flashed her a grin and offered no denial. They stood together and made their way toward the exit, deftly navigating other patrons and displays. “At least you’re making good use of that free trial,” she said.
Sienna laughed. “Oh, you know it!”
They parted ways in the parking lot and Sienna aimed herself toward the bus station. It was fun to live a little recklessly, and for her, public transportation was pretty reckless. She made her way to the back of the bus, unsurprised when no one bothered to look up at her as she walked by, and settled in the back corner. Despite that it was mid-afternoon and late in the holiday season, the bus was sparsely occupied. Probably for the best.
She leaned back in her seat and her gaze snagged on a split in the material of the bench backing in front of her. From the worn edges and brownish stain on the once white stuffing within, she suspected it’d been split for a while. Or at least a couple of days.
The middle-aged man, two rows up on the opposite side of the bus, coughed roughly, the raspy sound reverberating through the bus. A couple of heads turned briefly in his direction and he kept his head deliberately down.
Sienna frowned. That hadn’t sounded pleasant. Like a smoker’s cough with pneumonia or something. This time of year everyone could be heard saying how they “couldn’t afford to get sick,” so she wasn’t surprised that the woman nearest the man shifted a bit away. She sort of felt bad.
Too late she registered the tension that coiled at the base of her neck, like a muscle she just couldn’t stretch.
She sucked in a breath and locked her hands over her sweatshirt pocket, deliberately leaning herself into the window at her shoulder as her vision began to cloud. Her heart danced erratically against her ribcage for a drawn-out second before everything faded. The road noise. The chatter from the pair in the front bench. The drone of old Christmas music on the radio. Then she was again looking through a keyhole, her vision narrowed to only what the powers that be wanted her to see.
The middle-aged man with the bad cough. He was still on the bus, it even looked like the same seat. But the light behind him was wrong. It was negative—no, it was dark. As if it were nighttime.
His clothing’s the same…
He didn’t look homeless, and try as she might, Sienna couldn’t turn her gaze left or right. She couldn’t wind the celestial clock back to find out if she was seeing that very night or another night where he happened to be wearing the same outfit. He broke into another coughing fit, this one louder and longer. Something garbled and angry sounding echoed in from beyond her scope, something she knew meant someone was speaking to him. Or shouting at him.
The man clapped a gloved hand to his face in an effort to muffle himself and pushed to his feet. His movements were shaky. He had to balance himself on the bench seat, and the moment he took a step forward he toppled to his knees. Blood dotted the floor from his immediate resulting cough. It sounded more like a choke.
Something blurred in front of him. Another noise, still indistinct, but sharper. One long note.Someone’s screaming.
Then another figure stepped into Sienna’s line of sight, as clear as the man on the bus floor in every way except that she couldn’t see his face. He was dark, dressed in black on black. Something about this man screamed danger and power.
Her throat choked as she watched the newcomer peel a glove off his right hand, revealing pale skin, and stretch out his fingers toward the back of the unsuspecting coughing man’s head.No!She didn’t want to watch anymore, but she was in too deep. She couldn’t make it stop. The middle-aged man never saw the other man coming. The one in black pressed his fingers to the other’s neck and immediately the middle-aged man went slack.
That scream-like sound went off again as soon as the middle-aged man’s body collapsed on the bus floor.
The one in black withdrew his hand, slipped his glove back into place, and turned away as if he could disappear into the back of the bus. But with the movement Sienna caught another glimpse of him, and her surprise jolted her so sharply the entire vision shattered.
She jerked upright, breathing hard, her chest heaving and her heart racing. “No way,” she whispered to herself. She’d seen some weird shit in her visions over the years, but was it possible the guy she’d been fantasizing about since she hit puberty … was some kind of magic serial killer? She lifted a hand to her chest and clutched at her sweatshirt.That’d be way too cruel.
Her gaze slid sideways, lingering over the middle-aged man currently huddling in his apparently preferred seat. She wanted to go to him and suggest he get off the bus for the day. Maybe find a shelter that offered warm soup, or go to a walk-in clinic to get that cough checked out. Really anything to get him off the bus.
But she knew what would happen if she did.
