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Midnight Bites
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Midnight Bites
Midnight Whispers
L.K. Latham
Published by L.K. Latham, 2022.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
MIDNIGHT BITES
First edition. January 1, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 L.K. Latham.
ISBN: 979-8985499803
Written by L.K. Latham.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
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Also By L.K. Latham
About the Author
Dedicated to the writers of Central Texas for all thier help and encouragment.
Chapter One
Maria ran until her lungs burned and legs trembled. Fatigue slapped her in the face. She wobbled, slipping until her hands grabbed the coarse wood of a lamp pole hiding in the dark. Wrapping herself in the shadows, she filled her lungs with deep, quick breaths. Fear trickled down her back with each drop of sweat. The monster had killed her brother.
She leaned her forehead into the pole as burning embers flowed down her cheeks from her eyes. “Oh, Louis. What did we do?”
A motorcycle puttered past her on the street. Curls like flames tossed in the wind from beneath a helmet. The woman driving the motorcycle didn’t see her, but the huge, white dog sitting in the sidecar did. Pink eyes glowed beneath goggles as it passed Maria. The dog barked once.
Maria jumped, afraid of what the dog saw. She ran across the street onto a residential road. Large houses with dark windows watched her run. The top of her foot hit the curb as she jogged between two parked cars to avoid a car driving down the street. She tripped, landing on her hands and knees.
She crawled into the bushes and sat beneath a closed gate. If she pulled her knees to her chin, she could just squeeze into a hole beneath the bushes. Blood oozed from both knees and hands, but top of her foot and ankle throbbed as hundreds of tiny spikes pushed on her muscles. She rubbed her foot with her sore hands.
Footsteps soft and hurried patted in her direction. From beneath the bushes, a young woman, not a girl, close to her own age, jogged along the sidewalk. The girl stopped in front of the gate. The light of her watch lit the girl’s face, but Maria couldn’t see her face, only the blue light.
“Best time yet,” the girl said with pride. “Now, to bed.”
The girl walked through the gate. A light from above the front door flashed on. The girl froze, breathing, “Argh! Security light. Who turned that on? Up the tree in back.” The girl stepped off the path to the dark side of the house.
Maria twisted her head to look over the bushes. The girl disappeared behind the side of the house.
Maria felt the chill of fear wash over her. “He’s near,” she whispered.
Maria pushed herself out from under the bushes. She stood ready to run, but her foot would not allow any weight on it. The chill in her heart grew.
She pushed forward, forcing her foot to walk or limp forward. She had to get away. As she hobbled away from the house, she saw the girl climbing into a window on the second floor.
Maria opened her mouth to call for help, but only shook her head. The demon was too close.
Another block, and the streetlights went out. Maria stopped moving, letting the darkness swallow her. Her sore foot surrendered to the pain, and Maria fell to the ground. Tears blocked her vision. A footfall and then another and then the sound of something, close.
Maria pushed herself up with her right arm. Just move. She pushed herself forward.
But it was too late. A hand - a claw, cold, hard, grabbed her shoulder, lifting her off the grown. Blackness filled her senses. Putrid, wet breath filled her face. “Where’s the others?” the voice, coarse and cruel asked. These were the last words Maria heard before she died.
*****
Another story begins,
The seasons change,
Dreams tease.
As the nights grow long, and winds whisper songs of dances long and old.
Look to depths where the city waits between night and dawn,
Where the moon hides a face eyes refuse to see.
On this night, three women pass, unseeing but aware.
Tonight their lives mingle as Death takes her due.
The battle for the night, for peace rests with the victor,
A victor will fail alone.
But who will wear the victor’s crown?
You’re listening to Mary Midnight online and in your mind.
Walk the streets with care, my children.
Join the righteous unseen and unbidden,
Or wallow in the hidden agony of a Victor’s dirge.
Luna leaned over the pastry counter, bathed in the light of her cell phone as her wrath abated. Her fingers banged out a message to Lisa, her cousin. OMG! Hate work!
She jumped and stood straight as Marcus walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray of clean cups and saucers. The dull light from the kitchen flowed into the darkness of the cafe, stabbing her eyes.
Her phone vibrated in her hand. Lisa replied, What did Marcus do?
Luna sighed. I petted a cat.
Marcus set the tray on the counter next to her with a bang and whispered. “Luna! Customer. And you still have cat hair on your apron.”
Luna lifted her gaze, following Marcus' gaze to the far corner near the crumbling stage hidden by large green hostas and palms. The plants were her idea, to breathe some life in this place. It didn’t help, but they gave her something to do in the afternoons while she was stuck working. They even thrived in the bright sunshine that streamed from the large front windows in the afternoons. She liked to see them, but just like Marcus had said they would, they hid the farthest corner of the cafe.
And then she saw the long, thin legs stretched out from under a table reflecting the dull, yellow light from above. The man leaned forward and waved.
“Him, again?” she sighed.
“Put the phone away and do your job.” Marcus put clean cups and plates into the side cupboard with the spare dishes.
She typed: Gotta work. Marcus = ass, and didn’t care if she had cat hair on her apron. Mr. Thin Man, as she had named him after his third visit to the coffee shop, sat at his usual table in the darkest corner in the café, reading his ebook. He was far too skinny to be attractive, and his pasty white complexion, especially with the blue light from his book, freaked her out. He looked ill, but then he’d say something with that deep, melodious voice and peculiar accent. His voice stirred something deep inside her, unfamiliar but not unwelcome.
It was as though she stepped into a different world when he spoke, transfixing her far away from the cafe. She had yet to decide where he was from, so sometimes she referred to him as Mr. Mystery Man. But when he looked at her as she took his order, large, beautiful, clear eyes glared into her. Sometimes she felt he was looking at something going on behind her. Sometimes she felt he was looking at her soul. The feelings both unnerved and fascinated her.
“Good evening, Luna,” said Mr. Thin Man.
“I guess you really like this place or something.” Luna didn’t bother to smile. After serving him a different coffee and pastry every night for almost a week, he saw through the false, cheery façade she wore for her mother’s sake.
“Or something, I would say.”
Luna raised an eyebrow. “There’s hardly any cash here, so you can’t be here scoping out the place to rob.
You eyeing me? Or maybe you’re eyeing my brother? Either will get you kicked out of here faster than you can spit.”
Mr. Thin Man laughed. She hadn’t heard him laugh before. The richness reverberated through the air, tickling the hairs on her neck.
“I would do nothing nefarious where your family is concerned, Luna. What will I have tonight?”
And so their game began. The first time she waited on him, he’d asked her what she would have. Since she didn’t like coffee and she wouldn’t do carbs, she had no suggestions, so he ordered a coffee and a donut. The next night, he told her to bring her something he hadn’t had before.
“You’ve had each of the coffee drinks. Want to start on teas?”
“Excellent suggestion.”
“And let’s see.” Luna put her finger to her lips and twisted to examine at the pastry counter. “You’ve had all the chocolate and plain croissants, eclairs, biscuits, donuts. Oh, Aunt Jasmine brought in some lemon scones yesterday. She says they're good.”
“I’ll take your suggestion.” Mr. Thin Man returned his gaze to the screen in his hands. The game was over.
She went back to the counter to fix his tea. Marcus watched her approach as he wiped down the counters. “What’s your Mr. Thin Man want tonight?”
“Tea and lemon scone. And he’s not my Mr. Thin Man.”
“You always wait on him.” Marcus’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man leaning back in his chair, watching them. “He’s not messing with you, is he?”
Luna rolled her eyes, opening a tea bag and placing it in a cup of hot water. “I always wait on him because you always make me wait on tables. You going to stand there or hand me one of those lemon scones?”
Marcus took a clean cloth from under the cabinet and used it to pick up a plate, still warm from cleaning. He used the same clean cloth to pick up the tongs and place the pastry on the plate.
Luna put her hands on her hips. “And what are you so bent out of shape about? He’s a paying customer. Probably works somewhere around here and is taking a break. About time we had someone come in here more than once.”
“We’re just getting started.” Marcus slammed the door to the warming oven. “Once fall term starts, we’ll have plenty of customers.”
Luna placed the steaming teacup on a tray. “Right. Just like last fall,” she said, not looking at her brother. She took her phone out of her back pocket and tapped, Get me out of here.
Marcus grabbed her phone from her hands. “Will you stop! This is serious. You know we’ve got to make this place work. Professionals don’t text when they’re supposed to be serving.”
The warming oven dinged. Luna gritted her teeth, pulled the cleaning towel off the cabinet, and reached for the oven.
“Not with that towel!” Marcus pushed her aside. “I’m cleaning with that one. Think!” He grabbed a new towel to wrap around the tongs and pulled the heated scone out of the oven.
Luna’s teeth remained locked together. “I am not a professional server. I’m only doing this ‘til classes start. Then you and Mama can hire a real server.”
“We do not have the money to...”
“I don’t care!” Luna grabbed the plated pastry and banged it on the tray. “Mama promised. I’m doing my part, Marcus.”
Luna carried the tray to Mr. Thin Man. She tried to smile and serve the way Mama taught her, but her hands shook.
“Let me,” Mr. Thin Man said, taking the cup and plate from the tray. He smiled, and once again, his clear eyes reflected not only the room with its dim lights but her face. She saw her own angry eyes looking back at her and took in a deep breath. Her anger, entirely justified, would not get the better of her.
“Thank you,” he said, but instead of turning his attention to his tea and scone, he said, “I have an appointment with your mother. Would you tell her I’m here?”
Luna straightened. This was not part of the game.
He took a sip of his tea. “We have business to discuss.”
Mr. Thin Man said no more, even though Luna stood beside him, staring at him. His nose crinkled as he pulled the lemon scone in two.
Luna walked back to the counter where Marcus stood, wiping the counter and glaring at her. Luna smiled. “Mr. Thin Man wants to talk to Mama. They have an appointment.”
Marcus’ chin dropped, and he stared at Mr. Thin Man.
“Marcus!” whispered Luna. “Don’t stare. I’ll get Mama.”
The front door to the cafe opened. Jasmine LaBrere, Luna’s aunt, entered, out of breath and pulling on her suit jacket. “Hey Luna, Marcus. How’s everybody doing? I swear! This heat will kill me. Marcus, your Mama in the office?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll let her know...”
“Got it,” shouted Luna as she ran to the office door and knocked.
Marcus smiled at his aunt. “The usual, Aunt Jasmine?”
“Thanks, sweetie. Better make a fresh pot. Your mama and I have business tonight.”
Marcus pulled out a clean towel and wiped down a clean coffee pot.
The office door opened, and Jackie Howard-Smythe walked out.
“Mama,” started Luna. “Aunt Jasmine and a man are here,”
“I know, dear,” Mama said. “I can see them both.”
Luna meandered back to the coffee counter, where Marcus waited.
“What business?” Marcus whispered.
“I don't know,” she answered. “I thought you would.”
Luna stared at her mother’s face, once so long and beautiful, now wore puffed cheeks and heavy eyelids. Luna tapped Marcus’s arm, “Lipstick.”
“Shit,” Marcus said.
“Don’t swear,” said Luna, slapping Marcus’ arm.
They watched their mother and aunt embrace.
“How’s Frank?” Jackie asked.
“Good,” replied Jasmine, rolling her eyes. “The hours a policeman has to work. If I’d known, I would never have married the man.”
“He can’t work more than you,” laughed Jackie.
Jasmine snorted and pushed Jackie toward her office. “Now before we get started, I want go over a few things with you.”
“Jasmine,” Jackie said to interrupt her, but Jasmine continued.
“Now, I asked Frank to do a check on this guy. On the surface, everything looks legit, but I still have some reservations.”
“Jasmine,” Jackie smiled and took Jasmine by both arms. “I believe...”
The front door opened and a man wearing black jeans and a sports jacket over a black tee-shirt entered. He stopped with the door open, looking first at Jasmine and Jackie and then around the room until his gaze landed on Mr. Thin Man.
“Hey,” he said, exposing bright white teeth. “I see we’re all here. Great. Thought I was late.”
Jasmine looked around the room, stopping at the man in the doorway before turning to see Mr. Thin Man, who stood, stepping in front of a table where one of the overhead lights covered him with dull, yellow light.
“I was trying to tell you, the Chef’s already here.” Jackie reached out to shake hands with the man who had just entered.
“Jackie LeBrere-Smythe,” she said.
“Mike Young. Can’t tell you how glad I am to finally meet you.” Mike stepped forward to shake hands with Jasmine. “Jasmine, it’s been a while. Good to be working with you again. Have you met Max?”
Luna stopped pretending to be busy and leaned on the pastry counter, resting her head in her hands. Her head slipped out of her hand at the voice of Mr. Thin Man. He stood in front of her mother.
“Dr. Smythe-LeBrere,” Mr. Thin Man said. “Can’t tell you how happy I am you decided to take up my offer.”
As often as Luna had heard him, there was something different in his voice. His voice was always kind, like a favorite old song, but tonight it rang like a bell in the attic. His words were a strange mix of caution and courtesy, but not directed at her. Luna watched as their eyes met and held for too long.
A chill ran down Lu
na’s spine as Mr. Thin Man continued. “Your Philosophies of the Just is still one of my favorite economic theories. I had hoped by now to read the follow-up to it. Perhaps this place will help you with it.”
“Perhaps,” said her mother.
Jasmine and Mike Young settled around the large table in the center of the room.
Luna didn’t hear the beeping of the coffee pot.
“Fix a tray for us, kids,” Jackie said, looking at her two children, “And bring it to the table.”
“Yes, Ma’am” Luna and Marcus said in unison. Luna turned to prepare the tray. “What offer?” she whispered to Marcus, as she opened the door to the pastry case.
Marcus pulled a clean towel from behind him and used it to pick up a clean tray. “No. Use this tray. She said nothing about a meeting with anyone. Things are tight, but...” Marcus’s voiced trailed away as he turned his head to stare at the table where the meeting was under way.
*****
Luna polished a glass, keeping her head down but her eyes and ears focused on her mother and the meeting in the center of the cafe. Marcus stood next to her, continuing to wipe the counter.
“It’s just the way you asked for it,” said Mike. He sipped his coffee, crinkling his nose. “Hey kids, could you bring me some cream?”
The glass leaped out of Luna’s hands as she jumped. Marcus caught it and glared at her. “What? You made the coffee,” she whispered to him and opened the small refrigerator, pulling out the carton of creamer.
Marcus pinched his lips but said nothing as he watched Luna fill the server and take it to the table.
Jackie’s forced smile faded. “So sorry. I asked them to make a fresh pot.”
“Oh, it’s not the coffee,” Mike said. “Just not a big coffee drinker unless it’s full of cream. I got some beans when I was in Africa. They kind of turned me off black coffee. Now, add cream and chocolate, that’s another story.”
“Marcus makes a fine chocolate latte,” Jackie said, smiling.
Luna rolled her eyes. That’s what her girlfriends said about Marcus, but she assumed they just had the hots for him.