across the room, Bastien inclined his head to me when he left the club, his arm around a small, entranced blonde. When he turned, I noticed a brunette in his other arm.
Overachiever.
It was two in the morning when I finally made it home. I woke aching and tired the next day, the weather making me feel worse. Rain formed a steady gray curtain as I walked to work. Everything seemed colder. I had been raised in a warm Mediterranean climate; I could never quite accept these kinds of temperatures.
When I showed up at the bookstore, it had once again opened without me. Oddly, though, despite exactly the same staff working today, I didn't get the same boisterous greetings as yesterday.
Casey and Janice, on the registers, paused in their work to watch me walk in, their expressions enigmatic. Janice leaned over, murmuring something in the other woman's ear. When they noticed my curious look, they both forced smiles. "Hey, Georgina."
"Hey," I responded, puzzled and slightly uncomfortable.
Passing by the information desk a moment later, I found Beth regarding me with an equally peculiar look.
"How's it going?" I asked when she didn't say anything.
"Fine." She hastily turned to the computer screen in front of her.
Now, I'd been subjected to my share of strange looks upon coming into work before, but this was weird even for me.
Sometimes, after being with a lover, their absorbed life energy gave me a glamour that unconsciously attracted mortals. It was the same glow that Hugh had teased me about during poker. That was not to blame now, however. My last fix, as I'd told Bastien, had occurred a few days ago. The glow would have weakened by now. Besides, I know entranced looks when I saw them. These were not it. These were curious, what-is-she-doing looks. The kind of looks you get when you have food on your face or a missing button. The likelihood of either of those seemed low, but I ducked into the restroom anyway, just to check.
Nope. Flawless. A long denim skirt and a navy, off-the-shoulder sweater. Both smooth and perfect. Makeup in place. Unbound hair hanging to the bottom of my shoulder blades. A typical look for me. Nothing to warrant this attention.
Assuming I was reading too much into things, I continued on to thecafe,getting a friendly nod from Seth as he worked in his corner. At least he was behaving normally.
A new barista bustled at the espresso bar, and she nearly dropped the cups she held upon seeing me.
"H-hi," she stammered out, wide-eyed, looking me over from head-to-toe.
"Hi," I returned. This woman didn't even know me. Why was she acting weirdly too? "Medium white-chocolate mocha."
It took her a moment to churn into action, writing my order on a cup. As she rang it up at the register, she asked curiously, "You're Georgina, right?"
"Um, yeah. Why?"
"Just heard of you, that's all." She looked back down.
She said no more to me after that, simply making and handing me the mocha. Taking it, I walked over to Seth and sat across from him. The barista continued watching us with interest, though she immediately turned away upon catching my eye.
"Hey," Seth greeted me, eyes and fingers busy.
"Hey," I returned. "Everyone's acting really weird today."
He glanced up. "Are they?" I immediately recognized the thrall he fell into when his writing seized him. He became even more distracted and scattered than usual under such conditions. A succubus should be so lucky to have that kind of effect on a man.
"Yeah. Have you noticed anything? I feel like people are staring at me."
He shook his head, stifling a yawn before returning to typing. "Things seem the same to me. I like your sweater. Maybe it's that."
"Maybe," I conceded, slightly mollified by the compliment, even if I didn't believe it. Not wanting to distract him further, I stood up and stretched. "I should get back to work." Glancing over at the espresso bar, I noticed Andy, one of the cashiers, buying coffee. "There!" I hissed to Seth. "Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"Andy just smirked."
"No he didn't."
"He did. I swear it."
When I went downstairs, back to the main part of the store, I passed Warren. Mid-fifties and strikingly handsome, the store's morally questionable owner had once been a regular for me before I'd promised Jerome I'd go back to seducing good men. Warren and I had not had sex in some time. Considering my current regiment of decent souls, I kind of missed having an occasional guilt-free one.
"Hello, Georgina." I was