Chapter 3
Alexa, play ‘People Watching’ by Conan Gray
“We all go a little mad sometimes.”
— NORMAN BATES, PSYCHO
F or the first year, it took a great deal of willpower and determination to keep my distance from the rest of the staff, especially Shem. Working with him at the host stand had been one of the best years of my life, but I couldn’t let him know that.
I couldn’t let my demon know that.
The staff gathered nearly every night at the bar for drinks after work. Each night for a full year, Shem and the others invited me to join them, but I always said no.
I couldn’t risk ruining the best thing that had ever happened to me by getting too close to anyone. My demon hadn’t killed anyone since I started this job. I couldn’t risk him choosing one of these lovely people as his next victim.
Within the initial month of working at Voodoo, I had saved up enough for first and last at an apartment that sat above a flower shop in the east end of Gravestone. It was right on the subway line, and even though I had to transfer, I couldn’t believe my luck that something so convenient was in a price range I could afford.
“You’re the first person to put an offer on it, really,” the young, pimply-faced property manager told me. “After that young girl was murdered here, it seemed no one wanted to rent the space.”
I didn’t bother mentioning that the place likely would have been rented sooner if the person showing the space hadn’t informed potential renters of the homicide that had taken place there. I was just happy to claim it as mine. If the murdered girl chose to haunt me, at least my demon would have some company.
I moved out of my final foster home later that week and breathed a sigh of relief when I left, and for once, everyone was still alive.
The apartment was a two-story walk-up with a large front room that bled into a kitchenette. The cupboards were from the sixties, and the wood floor had a mysterious, dark brown stain on it that I pretended wasn’t blood. Behind the kitchen, there was a small bathroom that Norman Bates would be proud to own. It had a rickety corner shower, a toilet with rust stains around the bowl, and a little leaky sink. Beyond that was a decently sized bedroom that would fit a double bed and maybe a hamper if I bought a small one. The walls were painted off-white, and it looked like the landlord had just rolled right over all the light fixtures and floorboards instead of taping them.
It was heaven.
The first night, I slept on the floor. I had no furniture, but I couldn’t have cared less. My stray cat, Chaos, appeared on the third night to cuddle up with me.
Chaos always found me, no matter where I moved. His black, shiny coat and dazzling green eyes were the only constants I had been able to enjoy throughout my entire life. I cherished him.
Foster homes didn’t allow pets, but luckily for me, Chaos never had any interest in being my pet. He was happy to come and go as he pleased and seemed to be the only thing Death had no interest in taking from me. I had named him Chaos because of his petulant need to poke things off surfaces and create… well, chaos .
Nothing amused that cat more than perching on a counter, staring down an innocent mug or glass, and poking it with his paw until it fell and shattered on the ground.
Sometimes, I would catch him and yell at him not to do it, and I swear he knew what I was saying. The asshole would always make direct eye contact, pause for dramatic effect, then punt the damn glass off anyways. Truthfully, I didn’t care if Chaos broke every glass I ever bought. As long as he never stopped coming back.
Slowly, I saved enough from working at the bar to buy pieces of furniture from second-hand sellers online. These sites were the best option for me because I didn’t need a car. Most sellers were happy to deliver, especially if they lived in Gravestone.
For the first four years that I worked at Voodoo, I didn’t see Death once. After 12 months of working as a hostess, I applied internally for an open serving position and got it. Shem was bummed but somehow happy for me at the same time. He even vouched for me when Rafael resisted.
After my third year, I applied for the bar. Within my first month of bartending, I had worked my way up to being the most profitable bartender on staff. My upsells were always through the roof, and I don’t think I ever sold a single shot of anything. All my guests drank doubles.
I was a fucking wizard in service and had memorized the cocktail list overnight. I perfected free pouring and was absolutely ruthless with my opening and closing duties.
I wanted the Friday and Saturday night shifts, and the other bartenders knew I was coming for them. On a good night, you could make five hundred dollars or more on tips alone. Then there was tip-out, where the servers needed to give five percent of their sales to the bar, front, and back of the house.
Bartending had always been my end goal. It was a goldmine. Where I could live out the rest of my solitary, miserable days, buying gourmet treats for Chaos and making my little haunted apartment the coziest, happiest place on Earth.
On a chilly autumn Thursday night, I found myself working a busy shift with Sam, another bartender at Voodoo. It had been non-stop all night, but Sam had been the perfect teammate. He was a Med student at UoG, and he was just wrapping up his final exams. He had done most of my training and was kind, patient, and diligent. He was great with the guests on the wood, but I was faster on service, though maybe a bit messier. He tended to follow me around while I worked, tidying up when I got carried away during a rush.
He didn’t seem to mind, though. Our strengths and weaknesses complimented each other. I loved working with Sam, and I think he loved working with me too. I did my best in the confined space behind the bar to keep my distance, but I didn’t miss the way he would touch the small of my back to let me know he was there instead of saying ‘ behind .’ He always asked about my day and listened to my answer like whatever I was saying was the most interesting thing he had ever heard. I liked to imagine sometimes that if things were different, maybe Sam and I could have been friends.
As the guests started to slow down, I pulled out the weekly closer list and examined it, needing to remind myself what Thursday’s big closing duty was. I groaned.
Thursday: Mop the keg fridge
I hated this one. It was especially difficult right after we received a new shipment, and most of the kegs were full. I was five foot two. Some of those kegs weighed more than I did. It was hell trying to move them around. Sam chuckled as he wiped down the bar.
“I’ll do it for you before I leave, don’t worry.”
“No, you opened. That’s not fair, I can do it. I just wish they would move this task to Sundays…most of the kegs are empty by then,” I grumbled.
Sam turned to face me, the corner of his mouth twitching up. A piece of his golden hair had fallen into his warm brown eyes, and I felt the space between my thighs burn. I swallowed. I hadn’t had sex in a really long time. When I had been living in foster homes, I had made the mistake of allowing myself to find comfort in some of the boys who had crossed my path. Most of them were sad and lonely and were looking for someone to hold them as much as I was.
Looking back, it had been foolish of me to think that my demon would have permitted a boy to love me. After the third one died, I stopped allowing men to touch me at all. Sam’s little back touches so far had gone unpunished, but I knew that it was pushing the limits of the invisible lines my demon forced me to operate within.
I took a step back, not wanting Sam to face Death’s wrath just because I needed to get laid. I shook my head again.
“It’s okay, Sam. Just take the empties down on your way out. I’m fine.”
He looked like he was going to argue when Rafael appeared on the other side of service. He ran his finger over the stainless-steel counter and examined the tip through his thick glasses, making a face as he did.
“Sloppy. I expect you to do better tomorrow night, Lilith. I can’t have my primetime bartenders slacking on cleanliness.”
Shem appeared out of nowhere, swiping up a maraschino cherry from one of the garnish bins and popping it into his mouth with a sly grin.
Tomorrow night? It was Thursday. I didn’t work Fridays or Saturdays. Those shifts were usually run by Sam and Jezebel. They were highly coveted, and only the best got to work them. Jezebel had handed in her notice a few weeks ago, but considering I was new to the bar, never in a million years had I thought I would be chosen to replace her.
“Is little Lilith getting a promotion?” Shem purred, working the cherry’s stem into a knot with his tongue. His green eyes flashed in amusement, and Rafael looked at him with disgust.
“Don’t eat the garnish,” he snapped, but Shem just chuckled. He seemed to be the only person who wasn’t at least a little afraid of Rafael.
My mouth dropped open, and I shot a look at Sam, who was beaming at me. He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.
“I wanted to tell you earlier, but it just got so busy. I’ve been working on this with Raf for the last two weeks. If you don’t have any plans, I need someone to cover for Jezebel since she quit. You’re the fastest person I’ve ever worked with on service. If you want Fridays and Saturdays, they’re yours.”
“Are you serious!?” I whipped back and forth between Sam and Raf. Both of them were grinning at me, amused by how excited I was. “Of course I want to work weekends with you!” I squealed, hardly able to keep myself from bouncing in my non-slip Mary Janes.
Before I could think better of it, I threw my arms around Sam and hugged him. He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He rubbed his large, warm hand up my back, and I shuddered, immediately wishing I could take the hug back.
“Ooh, how come you never hug me like that, sweetheart?” Shem teased, and I jerked away from Sam, laughing nervously. Sam frowned but didn’t say anything. He just shot Shem an annoyed look, and I anxiously chewed on my thumbnail and straightened out my bartending pouch.
“Tomorrow.” Sam smiled at me before picking up the bin of empties. Raf lifted the stainless-steel drop hatch to let him out, and Shem looked me up and down, a mischievous look glinting in his green eyes. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged and slinked off after Sam, leaving me alone with my stern bar manager.
“You’ll be on probation, of course. We’ll see how it goes, but I have to admit, you’ve impressed me, Lilith,” Rafael said. I wasn’t sure how he made even compliments sound like criticisms, but I didn’t care. All I could see were dollar signs.
I would never have to worry about making rent again.
I would be stable and independent.
I would be safe.
I tried to contain the giddy little dance that wanted to burst out of me and fisted the edges of my mandatory pleated black tennis skirt instead.
“You need to work on cleanliness. You’re fast on service, but that’s because you don’t clean as you go. You need to be quick and pristine if you’re going to stay on weekends.”
I nodded eagerly.
“Yes, Rafael. Of course.”