Page 6 of Ruby Red Sky

The scene was relatively novel for me. A man of my stature didn’t shop, they had someone else fetching things for them. That wasn’t to say I never left the palace, but I’d never done anything as pedestrian as this.

Neither was standing in line. Rather, I lined people up however I wanted them when the occasion called for it.

The path to the counter wasn’t entirely dissimilar. The occupants were in various stages of distress that I recognized, although for different reasons. Some leaked enormous amounts of anxiety into the ether; others—anger. None were satisfied nor would they be. While I knew several were guilty of crimes, they weren’t of the particular class I judged.

Despite my appearance, I only received a few glances. My clothes were much finer than most of those around me, but I was well over six feet tall, and my hair color was so light it was almost silver. The length was more than halfway to my waist. I stood out. I know I did.

Everyone in the cafe was so wrapped up in their cellphones that the woman in front of me caught my eye. This one wasn’t distracted by flashy images or financial investments.

Patiently waiting for her turn, she was watching the customers ahead of her and the workers behind the counter. Her aura contained more than just patience, but also a peace. No—contentment.

Thinking for a moment, I realized it wasn’t that. It was resignation.

While I pondered, I leaned forward slightly and breathed in the sweet honeyed-almond scent of her hair. It complemented the vanilla musk of her skin. My mouth watered and my gums ached, while my sharp canines begged to sink into the delicate muscles of her neck.

Before I backed away, I breathed her in again and barely restrained the compulsion to throw the woman over my shoulder.

Suddenly, she glanced backward and the color of her eyes stole the breath from my lungs. Cyan blue.

She moved forward to place her order and said the word, “Please.” When she was handed Matcha tea, she said, “Thank you.”

No one else was doing that. They barked their orders, occasionally peering up from their cellphones to swipe a card. Then, they grabbed their order and left without a word.

I could’ve sunk my fangs into any one of their necks and not a single soul would’ve noticed. That’s how distracted the crowd was, with their attention imprisoned by flashing screens.

But not the gentle soul who’d stood in front of me a moment ago. When she walked away, I felt oddly bereft, as if I was suddenly missing something. I had to wonder if I’d ever passed her on the street.

Impossible. Surely, I would have noticed her.

The woman settled into an armchair and looked out a window while she sipped her tea. She held the cup with two hands, drumming her fingers against it. Sunlight shone against her deep, rich brown hair, warming it. She looked like the painting I was going to hang on my wall.

She was nervous. Her mood shifted; her mind focused on topics that deeply disturbed her. I was right to think she’d come to terms with something, and I wanted to know what it was. She may have accepted whatever it was, but it burdened her.

Her honeyed scent wafted toward me, aided by overhead ventilation, and I took a deep breath, memorizing her perfume.

“Sir? Your order? You’re holding up the line.” I swung my head around and stepped up to the counter. The cashier backed away slightly and I politely ordered black tea.

Before I sat down, I subtly lifted my hand toward the object of my fixation and cursed her to forget her phone when she left.

I didn’t have to wait long. The device chimed and she tapped the screen before setting it down. Then, she grabbed her drink and walked out the door.

Once she was out of view, I crossed the floor and swiped her phone from the seat. The rectangular piece of plastic and microchips would tell me everything I needed to know.

She was long gone when I went outside to the car.

My driver, Oswald, opened the door and I slid into the vehicle, the smell of new leather surrounding me. I could see why so many vampires and demons had fled their homes to seek their fortune here. This world had its vanilla, almond, and leather scented charm.

Retrieving the woman’s cell phone from my pocket, I placed the palm of my hand on the screen. It flickered and buzzed, refusing to cooperate.

“Oswald, take me to Kiam,” I ordered, before pressing the button to raise the privacy window.

My new friend had a way of finding out information, though he’d never divulged his methods. It didn’t matter what I threatened him with, he remained resolute.

That flagrant confidence even in the face of instant annihilation, was endearing.

When I met him, I’d been summoned by an inferior creature, and immediately thrust into a self-proclaimed vampire king’s mess. He was there assisting the man, and it was his unusual skills and complete lack of fear in the face of death that got my attention.

Kiam hadn’t trembled or faltered. His pulse remained perfectly steady. But the noise of everyone else’s blood rushing through their veins had been deafening.