“Nice try, fucker!” I screamed at the too perfectly blue sky. “Show me something scary, you miserable piece of—”
Everything went black again. The only sound was my breath rushing in and out too fast. “Shit.” I wasn’t in control yet. I was in my head but somehow this asshole had the upper hand. I needed to gain it back.
In the quiet dark, I reached for my bond to Dastien. This wasn’t one of my normal visions, but it was still my mind. And if I could use some of Dastien’s power, then maybe I’d have enough juice to get control and kick this motherfucker out of my head.
I started pulling power though the paper-thin bond and—
“You’re mine,” it said right by my ear. Its magic plopped onto my shoulder and wormed its way down my back like tiny maggots.
I twitched, trying to shake the little magical worms off of me.
When I blinked, the scene changed again. I stood in front of the hostess stand in a diner.
What the hell was this? A diner? I understood the metal institution reference, but a diner seemed lame in comparison.
“Table for one?” A girl, not much younger than me, in poorly fitting khaki pants and a polo shirt stood holding a menu.
I glanced over my shoulder just to be sure, but no one was behind me. Only a dusty claw crane machine was there. “Me?” I asked, pointing to myself.
“Yes.” She scrunched up her face as if she’d sucked on a lemon. “You’re the only one standing here.”
The diner wasn’t packed, but there were a few people scattered around. A family with two kids sat at one table. Two elderly men played chess while sipping their coffees at another. There was a salad bar in the back, and a few people were picking through the food. One guy used his fingers to grab a shrimp. He dipped it in a red sauce and made an approving sound before dropping the tail on the floor and reaching for another.
I barely contained a gag.
“You need a table for one or is someone meeting you?” The hostess asked, bringing my focus back to her.
I thought about saying just one. I’d rather get one million shots than meet whoever was messing with me. But there was no point in putting it off. “Two, please.”
“Do you want to wait for them here or be seated at the table?”
I shook my head. “No.” I was done with waiting. “I’ll sit.”
The hostess led me to a booth and waved me in. The green vinyl was ripped and covered in spots with duct tape. I put my hand down as I scooted in and touched something sticky. I grabbed a bunch of napkins from the chrome dispenser on the table and tried to wipe my hands off to no avail.
“Server will be with you in a bit.”
“Cool,” I said without looking up. It was rude of me, but she wasn’t real. None of this was real.
It didn’t make sense. Why a diner? What was the jerk trying to accomplish?
I grabbed for Dastien again, but nothing came. No thoughts. No feelings. And no power.
Damn it.
I tried to shake off my frustration. This thing wanted to play games, and for now there was nothing to do but go along with them. At least until I could reach Dastien.
I grabbed the menu from the table and scanned the contents. Pizza with shrimp and cream sauce. Hotdog hash with chopped beets. What kind of menu was this? Everything seemed to have either shrimp, beets, chicharones or a combination of all three.
I closed the menu with a sigh. Of course. Everything I hated. “Nice touch, douchebag.”
I closed my eyes, trying to focus on my bond to Dastien. Even just a little extra power might be enough to get me out of this mess.
Tingles ran up my spine, raising goosebumps in their wake, but they weren’t from Dastien.
Someone was staring at me.
I twisted in the booth. The family was leaving. The little girl was yammering on and on about some toy that she wanted, and the parents were ignoring her as they each grabbed a mint from the bowl on the hostess’ stand. The little boy—maybe about four years old—stood quietly behind them. He was wearing a blue, puffy ski jacket with the hood pulled up over his head. He was the one staring.