Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [5]
The man laughed, and I couldn’t help thinking that it was the most joyless sound I’d ever heard.
Ramon sauntered up from the back, drying his hands on a towel. “Is there a problem here?” He’d asked Brooke but kept his eyes on the man.
The man held up the potato. “I found this in my shattered taillight.”
Ramon shrugged. “I don’t know anything about it.”
“I’d be grateful if I was you,” Brooke added. “Your car could have been impounded for being in our lot. That’s why we have signs posted every two feet saying ‘for Plumpy’s customers only’ and ‘park at your own risk.’ We aren’t a parking garage, we’re a dining establishment.”
“That serves potatoes,” the man said softly. He set the remnants down on the counter.
She shrugged one shoulder. “A mashed potato taillight is getting off easy.”
The man pushed the offending spud closer to Brooke before straightening up and squaring his shoulders. He inclined his head. “The manager, if you will.”
“He’s busy,” Ramon said. We all knew that Lesser Kevin wouldn’t come out of his office unless it was closing time or the building was burning to the ground.
Ramon’s eyes flicked down to where I hid under the table. His eyebrow raised just a twitch, and I shook my head frantically. I didn’t know who the complaining man was, but he scared me. The primitive part of my brain screamed predator, and I believed it. With predators, if you move, if you’re seen, you’re eaten, and this man in his expensive but understated gray suit could swallow me whole.
Ramon looked back at the man, but it wasn’t fast enough.
I watched the man glance over his shoulder, just a short peek down to me hiding under the table, before he returned his attention to the counter.
I let a breath out slowly and tried to stop my hands from shaking. He hadn’t really seen me.
Then he jerked back around.
His footsteps echoed in the empty restaurant as he headed my way. I scooted farther under the table, but I could feel the uselessness of the action already. The man leaned down, grabbed me by my Plumpy’s T-shirt, and dragged me into the open. I heard Brooke and Ramon shout something, but I couldn’t make it out. All my attention was focused on the brown eyes of the man in front of me. Lean as he was, he held me up by the shirt with little effort. Hanging like that was awkward, so I grabbed his wrists for balance. I felt a cold snap of electricity, like frozen static shock, and I immediately released his wrists.
“What,” he said slowly, “do you think you’re doing here?”
“I work here.” My lips felt cracked and dry all of a sudden. He tightened his grip on me and pulled me closer. Not really a place I wanted to be. I swallowed hard.
“Not here, fool. Seattle.”
“I live here.”
His face got even closer, and I grabbed at his wrists again. The shock was still there, a chill crackling up my arms, but I held on anyway. Unpleasant, but I didn’t want to let him get his face any nearer to mine. The man’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “You live here and you haven’t petitioned the Council?”
“Huh?”
“When you moved here, you should have contacted us, asked permission”—he looked down at my name tag—“Sam.”
Oh, good, he was crazy and scary. What an awesome combination. I let go of his wrists with one hand and leveraged myself back enough so I could pull my T-shirt out of his grip. I dropped to the floor, knowing full well that he let me do it.
“I have always lived here,” I said, enunciating each word in that peculiar way people do when speaking with the insane. I straightened out my shirt. “I was born here, and I’ve never heard of any Council.”
“Impossible,” he said. “I would have known.” His face was an odd mix of concern and disdain.
“Perhaps my mother forgot to send you an announcement.” My hands shook. I shoved them into my pockets. At least that way