Their noses and ears are red with the cold, from what I can see under the turned up collars and quadruple-wrapped scarves. It’s the poor sods with early classes to get to, always here sharp at opening time. It’s then that I notice the bundle of uni students clanging into the shop, letting a blast of cold air in as the door swings on its axis. What are you glowering into space about?” “Simon,” Penny says, appearing by my side, “ Customers. Nicodemus aside (he’s Ebb’s brother, and you can’t fight the boss), vampires should bloody just stay out of the shop. Like he’s not even worried that I know his dirty little secret. “Thank you very much,” he says, all exaggerated politeness, and then struts off to find a table. I take my hands away and try to regain control, although it’s a struggle not to glare at him as I hold out the card machine. The boy’s grey eyes look down at it, then back at me. My magic starts to fizz, and a moment later I realise the cashier machine is rattling under my fingers. “Aren’t the customers usually the one to dictate their beverage choices? Perhaps I’m mistaken.” “I don’t know why,” I say through my teeth, “you just want a plain latte.” He knows that I know what he is-I’m sure of it. “You don’t what?”īy this point I’m glaring at the git. He holds up a black card, ready to pay, and both eyebrows go up. It takes me a moment to fumble with the right buttons on the machine and put through the order. The boy’s lip curls-yep, he’s definitely sneering at me now. “Just a latte?” I ask, trying not to let suspicion leak into my voice. But although Nicodemus is never exactly a ray of sunshine, he’s not as… sinister somehow as this stranger. Penny even bought a carton of sheep’s blood for his coffee order especially. Nicodemus, a kind of rugged bloke who looks about 30-though he could be centuries old, for all I know-drops by every week or two to brood in the corner. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a vampire in the shop. I thought he’d be more of a black espresso sort of guy. I blink, and look down to the cashier screen. “I said,” the probable vampire says with the hint of a sneer, “one medium latte, please.” Because I’ve completely missed what his order was.
He’s doing the super-edgy, one-eyebrow-raised thing as well. 10 hours of my life I’m never getting back). (Penny made me watch the Twilight movies with her last Halloween.
Signed carry on rainbow rowell with tote bag skin#
Plus he has that ghostly, sparkly skin thing going on-like an edgier, London-based Edward Cullen. He’s dressed in all black, dark hair curling past his ears in an overdramatic widow’s peak, and sporting the deadliest jaw and cheekbones I’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s not even just my magic sensing this-the boy looks like a walking bloodsucker stereotype. It’s 6am, and I’m pretty sure my first customer is a vampire.
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