The walk to The Daily Grind was the longest ten minutes of my life.
I marched down the sidewalk with my head down, praying that my neighbors wouldn't notice the massive man following me. Valerius moved with a strange, predatory grace, his golden eyes darting toward every passing car like he expected it to grow teeth and bite him.
"The metal beasts are loud," he growled, pulling the hood of my oversized sweatshirt lower. "And their breath smells of poison."
"They're called cars, Valerius. And please, stop glaring at the bus. You're going to scare the commuters."
We reached the cafe just as the sun began to bake the pavement. My manager, Marco—a man whose personality was 90% caffeine and 10% anxiety—was already fuming by the pastry case.
"Ava! You're four minutes late! If the morning rush hits and the milk isn't—" Marco stopped mid-sentence. His eyes traveled up. And up. And up. "Who is this? We aren't hiring."
"This is... Val," I said, the lie tasting like ash. "He's my cousin. From... out of town. Way out of town. He's just staying with me for a bit."
Valerius stepped forward, his shadow engulfing Marco. "I am not her—"
I stepped on his foot. Hard. "He's very shy! He'll just sit in the corner and... look at his phone. Val, sit."
I pointed to a small table in the back. Valerius looked at the wooden chair as if it were a torture device, but he sat. The chair groaned in protest.
"Fine," Marco muttered, adjusting his glasses. "But if he scares the regulars, he's out. Get on the machine."
I tied my apron on, my hands still shaking. I felt Valerius's gaze on my back like a physical weight. Every time I steamed milk, the loud hiss of the espresso machine made him half-rise from his seat, his hand reaching for the sword that wasn't there.
"It's just steam!" I hissed at him over the counter. "Sit down!"
The morning rush hit. It was a blur of pumpkin spice, oat milk, and angry businessmen. I was starting to forget about dragon-kings and shadow-crawlers until a woman in a sharp grey suit walked up to the counter.
She didn't look at the menu. She looked at me. Her eyes weren't brown or blue; they were a pale, milky white.
"One black coffee," she said. Her voice sounded like two stones grinding together. "And a soul, well-done."
My heart skipped a beat. "I'm sorry?"
She leaned over the counter, the smell of rotting lilies hitting me full force. "The King is bleeding, Little Priestess. We can smell him from the Void."
Suddenly, the espresso machine didn't just hiss. It exploded.
Hot water and steam sprayed everywhere. The shop erupted in screams. Through the white mist, I saw the woman's face stretch. Her jaw unhinged, her skin turning the color of wet cardboard. She wasn't a woman anymore; she was something hollow.
"Ava!" Valerius's voice roared through the chaos.
He didn't care about his 'Val' persona anymore. He leaped over the table, clearing the distance in a single bound. He grabbed a heavy metal milk pitcher from the counter and—with a strength that made my jaw drop—crushed it in his bare hand before slamming it into the woman's chest.
She flew backward, crashing through the front glass window.
The customers screamed and scrambled for the exit. Marco was curled in a ball behind the register, sobbing.
Valerius stood amidst the broken glass, the black hoodie torn at the shoulders. His golden eyes were blazing. He reached into the air, and for a split second, the shadows of the cafe twisted, forming the hilt of his broken black sword in his hand.
"The hunt has moved to the light," he spat, his voice echoing off the walls.
I looked at the shattered window, at my terrified boss, and at the monster outside that was already pushing itself back up off the pavement.
"My paycheck," I whispered, staring at the ruins of the cafe. "I'm definitely not getting my paycheck."
"The beast returns!" Valerius shouted, shoving me behind him. "Prepare yourself, Ava! Use the 'Lightning Box' if you must!"
"It's an espresso machine, Valerius! And it's broken!"
The 'woman' in the suit stood up in the middle of the street. Her neck snapped back into place with a sickening crack. Behind her, three more shadows began to crawl out of the sewer grates.
Valerius looked at me, a grim, bloody smile on his face. "This world is weak, Ava. But it provides excellent theater."
He stepped out onto the sidewalk, the broken sword humming with a dark, violet light.
"Who is next to die for a crown they cannot wear?"
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