Beneath The Crescent Moon {TMT #3}

Chapter 13

The streets were empty, something I relished every Sunday morning.

Church was by far the one thing that united everyone in this town. It was a social gathering everyone attended, regardless of their beliefs. Something I guessed the mayor had assumed would aid in the stronghold of the town.

I'd only been there once - thanks to Ellie's insistence on it being compulsory - and had been singled out as an exception on that very day.

Apparently, the mayor's law meant nothing when concerning a black-eyed, demon chameleon witch.

Others had refused my presence in there due to the werewolf crisis that occurred after I'd arrived in town, thinking me the culprit. I hadn't minded however - still didn't - and as long as no one bothered me, I didn't have to cause any trouble.

And that was exactly what they wanted, me to slip up and expose my "true" nature. They would've kicked me out or burnt me alive for turning the drunk man who'd tried to rape and kill me, but because I hadn't done it in vain and there had been evidence, the mayor had spared me. It had caused an uproar, but at least I still had my head on.

I took in a deep breath. Let's just get today over with.

I stood in front of Cleo's bar, eyeing Micaiah through the transparent glass door. He was the only one I could see in the establishment, so it was either Cleo had ditched us for church or he was out doing whatever I was sure would be beneficial to us.

Seeing that I had no choice but to associate with the arrogant man, I let myself in and shut the door behind me.

"You finally showed up."

"Don't feel so smug about that," I said as I slid onto the bar stool next to Micaiah's. My eyes heavy with weariness behind the shades barring them from the rest of the world, I leaned against the counter, waiting for its owner to show up.

Lucifer wasn't supposed to join us until tonight when we had everything sorted out. It was a good thing, because the thought of seeing Lucifer again after last night left my throat and stomach knotted in anticipation.

I couldn't help it. My mind just kept on replaying the kiss scene over and over. His nearness. Everything that had to do with him and proximity made me inwardly shiver.

It wasn't normal, that I knew. I'd seen people kiss before and none of them had acted like their partner was slowly stealing their soul with each sweep of their tongue against their-

"You're quiet," the Witch Hunter beside me said, interrupting my reminisce.

"Would you rather we argue all day?" I traced my finger along the designs on the wooden counter as I said this.

"Yes," he answered with much sarcasm. "At least then I'd know I'm not sitting by a statue."

"Didn't think you'd care," I retorted, looking up from the counter to stare back at him. "Besides, I like the quiet better than the sound of you cussing."

He chuckled. His eyes surprisingly didn't reveal any hint of malice. "I don't blame you."

Somewhat startled by his comment, I studied him carefully before he looked away to stare at the shot in front of him.

I blinked, not believing for a second that I'd just had a civilized conversation with a man who'd showed nothing but disdain towards me. As I'd previously witnessed, his black eyes held a solemn and weary look beneath the façade he'd created that it made him look less threatening and cocky.

"I'm not always a jerk you know," he spoke after a short while, downing his drink in one go.

I scoffed. "Could've fooled me."