Siren's Mark

Chapter 59

𝔸𝕧𝕒

Earlier today, the café was buzzing with people. Sounds of idle chatter, the whir of the coffee grinder, and the clanging of dishes echoed against the walls. But as the day wore on, the sounds and activity crept to a halt. Now it's just me and my computer with a few café staff members cleaning up.

I've been sitting here all day and I'm not sure I've gotten anything done. I had come here for a change of scenery because I wasn't productive at home, but my plan seems to have failed. All I can think of is how I want to comfort Jen. How I want to take care of Zane and make his sadness go away. How I want to punch that damned Shayna in the face—and Kieran too.

In fact, this is really all Kieran's fault.

Note to self: Punch Kieran.

So what if he's a demon. He hurt Zane and he slept with Shayna and I'm pissed. I don't care if I break my hand in the attempt.

Actually, I'd prefer not to break my hand.

New note to self: Buy brass knuckles.

I hear a vacuum running and I take that as a cue that I've definitely stayed here well past my welcome. I pack up my laptop and other things and make my way out.

I walk to the door and push, but the door doesn't budge.

"We lock the front doors at closing," the woman at the front counter says. "You'll have to use the back."

She points to the other side of the café before wiping down a nearby table.

I weave through empty tables on my way to the back exit. It lets out into a dimly lit alleyway that leads to the parking lot.

If I were looking for a great spot to be serial-murdered, this would be it.

Two men are standing a little further down the way smoking cigarettes. One of them has a beer bottle in his hand. They're yelling and laughing loudly, clearly wasted off their asses.

Great.

As one talks, his voice makes a chill run down my spine. I could swear I know that voice. I freeze for a moment and peek at the two men again. They're both tall, relatively well-built guys in their late-twenties. The shorter of the two is a blond in an oversized zip-up olive-green hoodie, baggy jeans, and a knit cap. The other is a brunette in a metallic silver puffy jacket that I recognize instantly: it's the guy that came after Jen and me in the bookstore.

The last time I saw this guy, my knee had just gotten up-close-and-personal with his testicles.

Crap.

I step backward to head back into the café, but the door seems to have locked behind me.

Double crap.

I pull out my phone to call Zane. My phone is at 10% battery, which is not ideal, but I'll take it.

After several rings, his voicemail picks up.

Triple crap.

"Hey," I say quietly to Zane's voicemail, so as not to be overheard by the creep and his friend. "Um... so I'm coming home from the café and I'm in a bit of a tricky situation. I'm stuck in the alley behind Café Allegra and that guy from the bookstore is here and I can't get back into the café so um... could you come get me?"

I hang up and try to think over my strategy.

The penthouse is about 15 minutes away. Of course, that's if Zane is in fact at home and not somewhere else. And then he still needs to get my message. Do I just wait here?