Color Me Crimson | 𝘙𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦

8͢

I take the bottles of wine and a bottle opener from Kristi without further conversation. As I leave the kitchen, my eyes slip around every corner, muscles strung tight. For now, all I can do is try and figure out what's happening on my own.

It's not like Lucien and his associates are hiding their uptight attitudes from me, which is only more confusing. Are they purposely trying to scare me off? Or do they think I'll play along with their fucked up games? If it were just a test, I doubt Krisit would react the way she did. She wouldn't have a mark on the side of her neck.

The other servers avoid me, and for the first time I realize they are all extraordinarily young. The service industry has always been more suited for youth, but I don't see a single employee under the age of thirty. Moreover, none but Mags has so much as looked my way.

Forcing my thoughts to simmer down, I return to the private room. The last thing I want is to tip Lucien off to my suspicions. For the rest of my shift, I'll poke around and see what I can uncover.

As I enter, one of them is in the middle of speaking. A quick glance tells me it's the man I don't yet have a name for, sitting next to Anne. "Give it one week, Lucien. You know the rules."

"Marc, this is not up for discussion." As anticipated, none of them seem to notice my presence, but I do notice Lucien's reply is more of a hushed whisper.

I clear my throat and place the bottles of wine on the table. "May I pour you each a glass?"

They look at me. Anne wears her polite smile, which by now I know is only for show. The man named Marc is still trying to shake off his annoyance, and Hugh and Lucien are as unreadable as ever.

Hugh speaks first. "Yes, please do."

With shaking hands, I twist out the cork of one bottle and pour the dark liquid into Lucien's glass until it reaches halfway up the side. It's thick and red as the light passes through—stunning in the finely crafted stemmed pinot noir glass. As with their waters, which haven't been touched, I fill each glass in silence.

This time, when I finish Lucien gives me a nod. "Thank you, Hanna."

He raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, maintaining eye contact as he does. Is he testing whether I got the right bottles or not? I'm sure with how they treat Kristi, they know she won't mess up. Surely he wouldn't doubt Ann's—

Oh. My. God.

His pale hazel eyes begin to fill with saturation, then change to mirror the depth and hue of the red wine. The rings around his irises brighten and sear into me, almost if there's a fire igniting on the surface of my eyes.

I've gone mad.

Maybe I'm the one who needs to be investigated. I blink, trying to clear my vision.

My expression must reflect my stupor, because a grin widens on Lucien's face, bottom lip stained dark red. As his tongue sweeps over the thin layer of wine, a sharp canine glints in the corner of his mouth.

Maybe I got hit by a car that night? Yeah, that must be it, and this is some crazy coma-induced hallucination. Or I'm dead and this is a messed-up version of the after-life. Either way, my previous doubts are redoubled onto myself.

"Excellent, as always," Lucien hums. His voice smoothes over me, rich and deep like the blood-red of his irises.

I can't help myself and switch my gaze to Ann and Marc, whose previously pale eyes have also shifted. I need to see a doctor.

"Hanna," Lucien addresses me, and I return my gaze to his, unable to speak. "You are free to return to waiting the other tables now."

Gratefully, I back out and exit the private room. That same elegant dining area I had become familiar with now feels duplicitous, the hum of pleasant conversation and grace of the staff like a façade to cover up what lies within.

As soon as I can, I locate Mags, who is leaving a bill envelope on one of her tables. She walks away, checks in on another table, and heads for the hallway. My pace quickens as I go to meet her, my heartbeat a pounding drum in my chest.

"How's it going?" she greets. Her normal response is only more off-putting.

My mouth opens and hangs in silence, lost on how to phrase what I have to say, how to put into words what I just saw. "Did—have you—their eyes," I stammer.

Mags gives me her usual smile. She isn't catching on. "Lucien's eyes turned red," I continue. "Have you seen that? Who are they?"

Her eyebrows furrow just a touch. "Lucien, the owner? Hmm," she ponders, pursing her lips. "I forget what color his eyes were, but they did seem dark, I think. Can't say I've spent much time with him." Then her face lights up. "Did you catch a thing for him?"

She gives me a teasing smile. I groan. Damn, this is pointless.

Did I expect her to believe his eyes changed color? Hell, I don't even know how to explain it, much less how I'd understand myself if someone implied it in a frantic conversation.

"No, it's not that," I dismiss. "I'm seeing things is all."

Mag's expression falls. "Oh, poor thing. It has been extra busy tonight," she glances at the clock on the wall, "We close in about an hour. Help me finish up these tables, and you can go home early. I'll take care of the clean-up this one time."

As much as going home might sound like a solution, I can't leave her to close up on her own. That is one struggle I know too well. And I'm still capable of working, just not thinking straight. "No, I'll stay," I give her a reassuring smile. "The only way to get used to these shifts is to keep at it."

"Offer's still on the table," she says, then turns to look at the few tables still occupied. A bill envelope is filled out on one, hanging on the edge for her to take up. "I have to get back now, let me know if you decide to leave early."

She walks off to take care of the customers and I scan the tables that I'm supposed to be working. Everyone looks content, unaware of the man I can't get off my mind.

My shoulders slump and I lean into the wall. While I was tripping out over Lucien, Mags had to handle all this work by herself. If anyone should be leaving early, it's her.

I still don't approve of how Lucien spoke about her. Even if part of me is malfunctioning, I know English when I hear it, and she isn't forgetful or lazy. I feel my brows crease. She said she hasn't spent much time with Lucien or any of the others. Has she been excluded for some reason?

And if so, how do I get on board?

Less attention from Lucien is definitely the better option. I wonder why he keeps her employed if he's as opinionated and powerful as he likes to pretend to be, but then again she's the best waitress I've ever worked with, so maybe he keeps her around out of sheer need. Without Mags, I'm not sure if I'd even be contemplating sticking around right now.

At last I make up my mind to go find Kristi. But before I head back to the kitchen, I look over at my tables again and see one is finished with their plates. Good, something normal I can do.

Yesss. Red vamp eyes for the win! What is your favorite eye color?

❤️‍🩹 Siberia