The Torch

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The Torch Page 4

by L. L. Frost


  “Well, no, but all the cupcakes are priced the same.” I point to the menu once more to show the prices under the cupcake column, where they are all listed at three seventy-five.

  Kelly’s brow furrows in concentration as it nods and taps the image of the cupcake. Three seventy-five pops up in the sidebar on the right of the screen.

  “If they’re buying more than one cupcake, you can change the number here.” I point to the arrows to change quantity. “Once everything is entered, you hit total, take their money, and a receipt prints out.”

  Kelly walks through the steps and a receipt prints out of the little black box next to the register.

  I tear it off. “Now, if they used a credit card, they’ll need to sign at the bottom.”

  When I reach for the cup of flower pens I had placed in front of the register, I find it empty. Frowning, I lean over the counter to double check. Yep, all the pens, with their fake flowers taped to the top, are missing.

  My focus shifts to the imp, who fidgets nervously. “Kelly, did you take the pens?”

  With a high-pitched shriek, the imp leaps off the step stool, a flowered pen falling from the large chef’s pocket as it flees with its bounty back into the kitchen.

  Instead of chasing after it, I pull a box of plain, blue ballpoints out of the drawer beneath the counter and refill the cup.

  I make a mental note to swing by the pet store on the way home. Mischief imps can’t help their need to hide things, so if they’re going to work here, I need to give them something to steal that won’t affect the business. Sparkle balls should do it, and the bulk pet store sells giant bags of them.

  A light knock comes from the front entrance, and I glance up in surprise. A lanky young man waves at me, a short, pink haired woman at his side. Slater’s friend.

  Glad for the distraction, I circle around the counter to unlock the door and pull it open. “Come on in.”

  “Sorry, we’re early,” the woman says, a bright smile on her face.

  In deference to the summer heat, she wears a flowy tank top that shows off the stainglass wings tattooed across her back, the tips cupping over her shoulders. Her black slacks have the same look as mine, and sensible, closed-toed shoes cover tiny feet.

  As she walks past me into the shop, the scent of clay and something darker tickles at my nose, along with the faint scent of ozone. Eyes narrowing, I lean down for a deeper breath. I don’t recognize this mix of scents.

  Shoes scuff against the newly tiled floor, and I glance up at the man. Blue eyes meet mine, a splash of brown across his left pupil giving it a slit appearance, like a snake.

  Heart lurching, I leap back and hiss, “Fairy touched.” My wings razor blade against my spine, ready to spring forth and give me the speed to escape.

  In the old days, humans used the fairy touched to hunt demons, because they’re split pupil gives them the ability to see past the veil that hides demons from humankind. They captured and dissected us, and then used our parts in meaningless rituals to gain power from our bodies.

  Demons, in turn, blinded every fairy touched they could get their hands on.

  The advent of science went a long way in discouraging such practices. Layered on top of that came the whispered instructions to psychologists about the danger of hallucinations. Demons have eternity to play out plans, and eventually our manipulations landed most fairy touched in psychiatric wards or medicated past the ability to see.

  The few that escaped became hunters, following their ancestors path of killing demons for power. But they were few and far between, no longer worth searching out.

  This human lacked the unfocused quality of drugs. Instead, he studied me with clear eyes filled with knowledge. My focus dropped to a necklace around his neck. An old, tarnished locket that leaked the scent of ozone.

  Kellen misplaced his trust, and Slater sent a hunter to my door.

  Adie’s (mis)adventures continue in December 2017 with:

  The Blaze (Part Two of Succubus Studies)

  L.L. Frost lives in the Pacific Northwest and graduated from college with a Bachelor’s in English. She is an avid reader of all things paranormal and can frequently be caught curled up in her favorite chair with a nice cup of coffee, a blanket, and her Kindle.

  When not reading or writing, she can be found trying to lure the affection of her grumpy cat, who is very good at being just out of reach for snuggle time.

  Follow on Facebook and Amazon for news on upcoming releases!

 

 

 


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