TITLE: Wicked Spirits
GENRE: Urban Fantasy
If my best friend wasn’t already dying, I’d kill her for this.
The man in front of me eyed me coldly, his gaunt face a mask of displeasure. I inhaled slowly and tried to center myself with some yoga-breathing. He noticed my discomfort and smirked.
I wondered at the cruel jest my life had become as I stared down one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. My body tensed, deciding between fight or flight.
Then I remembered my promise to her, and mustered the courage to give it a shot.
“Diah didn’t mention your name when she set this up,” I said, trying to start the conversation with the grim figure seated across from me. “I’m Vesshana—Vess for short,” I offered.
He looked at me flatly. “My name can only be properly pronounced in the throes of agony,” he answered, taking a sip from glass of sweating ice water on the table.
“Oh,” I answered, wondering what the hell I should call him. I certainly didn’t plan on ending up in any kind of throes tonight, let alone agony. “So what do you go by?”
The ice clinked against his teeth as he responded, “Walter.”
I suppressed a laugh. “Ok, Walter,” I said with a smile. Judging by his demeanor, probably the first and only of the evening. “So what do you do for fun?”