Stupid Cupid

Chapter Three

The nutty aroma of coffee wafted through the air as I sipped my own mug of hot chocolate. I checked my watch for the fourth time.

12:38. Sure, when I'm a minute late it's the end of the world but when he's late it's completely fine.

I sighed and continued to listen in on how terrible Janice's new bangs looked.

"Eavesdropping on unassuming women, are we?"

I looked up to my right, "Apparantly, bangs are a big no-no for people with heart-shaped faces." I tilted my head, "Finally decided to show up, did you?"

Noah grimaced, "Sorry. I had some... important matters to attend to."

I waved him off, "It's fine. Not like I have a life of my own or anything. Feel free to waste my time as much as you see fit."

Noah winced at the raw sarcasm laced in my words and I motioned for him to sit down, "Well come on then. Let's get this over with. I've got places to be."

Noah sat down obediently and began pulling his things out of his backpack. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a panicked barista stumbling over towards our table. My eyes widened as I also noticed the woman I was eavesdropping on from earlier stretch out her leg at the exact moment the barista arrived at our table. I flinched back as far as my chair allowed a second before the barista tripped and two mugs filled with steaming hot coffee poured all over my lap. I yelped and shot out of my seat.

"Watch it!" I growled to the horrified barista.

"I- I am so sorry! I'll bring over some napkins right away," he managed to stutter before practically sprinting into the cafe, presumably to grab a boatload of napkins.

I swore as I aggressively wiped my new ripped blue jeans with the few napkins I had stolen from a nearby table. Usually, I'd be all for a chaotic drenching of hot coffee. But not when I was the one getting drenched.

The hysteric barista came scurrying back, his arms overflowing with napkins. I scowled at him and gave him my best death glare. He cowered back after depositing the armful of napkins on my table, frantic apologies tumbling out of his lips. Fuming, I opened my mouth to tell him off when Noah's voice calmly thanked the quaking barista and dismissed him. With my jaw ticking, I directed my glare at Noah and he met my gaze.

"Couldn't you see how sorry and terrified he was?" he demanded. "He was about to pass out and you screaming at him would only make matters worse. You need to calm down."

"Fine. Let's drench you and your new $50 jeans with scorching hot coffee and then we can see how calm you are about it," I retorted.

"It was an accident, Maraya."

I huffed angrily and started sloshing my way to the women's restroom.

Just my luck. Air dryers instead of paper towels.

Grumbling to myself, I opened an empty stall and wiggle-danced out of my sticky jeans. I tore off a long roll of toilet paper and attempted to dry off my legs. When the toilet paper just started to bunch up and become nothing more than a useless, soaked pile of nothingness, I peeked out of the stall door. Not seeing anyone else, I creeped my way over to the hand dryer. I sighed at the loss of every last bit of dignity I had as I pressed the button and tried to maneuver my soggy butt and legs to go under the hot air.

Miraculously, I managed to get mostly dry without anyone walking in on me. Not wanting to push my luck, I quickly grabbed my jeans and, after washing them a little bit with some water, shoved them underneath the hot air too.

I kept glancing at the door, expecting it to open any second, so I settled for slightly damp rather than completely dry, and hastily tugged them back on. I sighed with relief that the whole fiasco was over without some poor, unexpecting soul walking in on a teenage girl awkwardly dancing under the air dryer in only her underpants and shirt.

As soon as I stepped out of the restroom, I knew something was off. There was a smell I couldn't quite decipher. I channeled my enhanced Freyja senses and inhaled deeply. I stilled. Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot!

I quickly followed the scent and found myself outside of a secluded alleyway.

Of course it's a dark and spooky alleyway, I muttered to myself.

The overwhelmingly dusty and sour stench of decay drifted my way. I lifted my shirt and unsheathed my emergency knife from my concealed belt holster. Getting into a defense stance, I slowly entered the alleyway. And then, I finally saw it.

Draugr.

Through the wisps of smoke, two glowing blue eyes snapped up to look straight into mine. The golden retriever he was snacking on dropped to the ground, limp and lifeless, as he slowly raised to his full height. Two very sharp horns stuck out of his ancient viking helmet, matching the rest of his armor.

The zombie-like creature released a deep and throaty laugh when he noticed my small, four-inch throwing knife and I held it up higher. I gulped loudly and forced my hand to stop shaking. This is what you've been training for, Raya, I told myself, ignoring the fact that I don't actually have proper training.

I took a deep breath and before I could back down, I lunged.

That was a monumentous mistake, I realized only a few seconds after attacking, as I was thrown across the alleyway and roughly slammed into the wall. I groaned and reached up to touch my head. When I brought down my hand, it was covered in blood. My blood. I slowly rose to my feet, shaking hard. Every single one of my bones ached and the cuts and scrapes decorating my body stung so badly I might as well have been soaked with lemon juice.

I gritted my teeth and prepared to attack again when a blur ran passed and rammed into the draugr. The monster stumbled back and lost his footing. Taking advantage of his disorientated state, I entered the fight again.

Too focused on the battle in front of me, I took no heed of the stranger fighting beside me. We attacked in almost perfect harmony. I swiped at the abdomen; the stranger punched the face. I dodged a head butt; the stranger attacked from behind. Finally, the perfect opportunity opened. While the draugr was occupied with the stranger, I gathered what little strength I had left and stabbed at his heart with all my might.

The demon staggered back, his hands covering his chest. The stranger and I were breathing heavily as we watched him fall to his knees.

Then we heard a low chuckle. Not taking my eyes off the beast, I watched in horror as he rose to his feet.

His raspy voice boomed, "You really thought a little poke to the chest would kill me?" He chuckled darkly. Then, I watched, horrified, as he grew twice the size and held out a hand with a blue flame hovering over it. "Let's see how useless that toothpick of a knife really is when I actually try!"

Oh, great. An undead being who can shapeshift and has magic.

I finally looked at the stranger for the first time, only to discover... "Hadley?" I asked in disbelief.

Hadley looked over at me, "No time to explain." She dodged a shot of fire, "We need to figure out how to kill this thing."

"No need," a new voice chimed in, "I already know. We need to behead it, burn its body, and throw the ashes into the sea."

Hadley and I both spared a quick glance to the newcomer.

"Gods of Vanir. How many of you are there?" I asked in shock.

Noah's expressionless face turned to me, "As Hadley said, explanations can be saved for later. Right now, we have a draugr to kill." He raised his sword.