A Girl's Guide to Guns and Monsters - Martin Harry Greenberg [35]
LUPERCALIA
Anton Strout
A lot of people had walked through the doors of New York’s Serendipity on East Sixtieth Street over the years, but it was doubtful that any had come in with a crossbow strapped across their back. In that respect, Leis Colchis was singular. Her roommate, Helen Leda, certainly didn’t have one on her. Helen hadn’t even realized Leis had one until she took off her winter cloak in the restaurant.
“Is that what I think it is?” she whispered. “I’m pretty sure our R.A. would tell us that we’re not allowed to have one of those in our dorm room.” Although no one was paying attention to the pretty, long- haired blonde with the weapon yet, Helen figured it was only a matter of time.
Leis turned to her. “Good thing we’re not on NYU property then,” she said. Leis dropped her cloak onto a bench by the front door and released the crossbow’s strap.
Helen grabbed Leis’s arm. “You’re not going to hurt anyone, are you? I know you’re pissed with James and everything . . .”
Leis pulled away from her dark- haired roommate with ease. Helen’s grip wasn’t strong enough to hold on, and for once the petite girl wished she was a little stronger so she could restrain her friend.
“Relax,” Leis said. “I’m not going to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it . . .”
Before Helen could ask her what the hell she meant by that, Leis strode into Serendipity’s dining room. It was packed to the gills, full of seated couples and families doing the tourist thing. The ceiling was white pressed tin, and just below it hung the restaurant’s famous Tiffany glass structure that was a mix of pop art, twisted wires, and glass butterflies. Helen thought it stood out against the whitewash of the surrounding walls like a wrecked car on the West Side Highway. Red hearts of all shapes and sizes were stuck to every wall.
As Helen watched Leis walk through the crowd, a few heads turned. Helen shook her head. Leis was stubborn over simple stuff, like policing who ate what food in the common room fridge. God only knew what she’d do if she found James in here . . .
Helen watched the crowd fall silent as Leis wandered through the tables. The waitstaff didn’t quite know what to do about a woman with a crossbow in the shop. They just stood there, holding large cut crystal chalices filled with their signature frozen hot chocolates, an iced slush of chocolate topped with a mountain of whipped cream drizzled with even more chocolate on top. They were so huge a small child could probably bathe in one of them. Helen looked closer at the tables around the room. Practically every table had one or two of them on it.
Never having tasted one, Helen was curious, but turned back to Leis, who was looking at one particular couple a few tables away where she had caught the eye of the man sitting there. Leis dashed over to it and grabbed the well-dressed man by his tie, pulling it tight. The woman he was sitting with started to stand, but Leis pointed her crossbow at her and used her foot to kick her back into her seat.
“Hey!” the woman shouted.
Leis shot her a look over the crossbow that killed any further outbursts.
The man cleared his throat. “Do . . . do I know you?” he asked, looking confused.
Leis tightened her grip, not giving the man an inch of wiggle room. “What’s your name?”
The man looked perplexed, his mouth hanging open, stuttering. “D-D-Darrin.”
“Darrin what?”
“Darrin Georgiou.”
Leis searched his face while Helen watched in horror. Something in his eyes told her that there was nothing but fear behind them. Leis let go of his tie, and he slumped back in his seat, not daring to move.
“It’s not him,” Leis said. She straightened, her shoulders relaxing.
“Ya think?” Helen asked. She looked around the room, the eyes of everyone burning into her. “I could have told you that wasn’t James. Can’t you identify your ex? I know you’ve dated a lot, but it would probably help