Chapter 2: Chapter 2
The clink of plate on table made Sean jump, but it was only the muffin. He looked up, right into Dane’s eyes, but the man looked perversely gleeful.
“Did I scare you, professor?”
“Of course not,” said Sean, grabbing his muffin and moving it to the other side of his laptop, more to claim it than anything. He had to look away from the smirk creeping over Dane’s face, and swallowed as Dane moved closer. He set a hand on the table and leaned in, just slightly closer than was acceptable.
“Good. I like seeing you back in here again. It’s been a while.”
“Didn’t realize you noticed,” said Sean. He hadn’t been to Crypt Coffee in nearly a month—and it had only been open four—but if Dane’s intention was to add to the mood by creeping Sean out, it wasn’t working nearly so well as he thought. Sean liked the attention.
“‘Course I noticed,” said Dane. “I notice everything that happens here.”
Sean wasn’t sure what to do. Hide his werewolf pages? Seemed too late for that. Try to flirt? But Dane was already walking back to the counter. Sean shook himself, took a large gulp of coffee, and got engrossed in nonsense.
That was what it had to be, right? He couldn’t have really seen a werewolf. That didn’t even make sense. He just didn’t know what he’d seen, and even though he’d tried to forget it, tried to move on, a week later and he still couldn’t get it out of his mind. He was having trouble sleeping, and he was concerned he was overreacting. No one else seemed to care a student was dead.
Could be the result of the news. Sean scoured every article about the young man, only to find everyone reporting it as a tragic accident. But none of them had been there, on campus, last Friday night, like he had. None of them had been walking back to their cars through the small patch of trees, and none of them had seen a student get his throat ripped out by a—well, something. Something big, and fast, and canine.
It had been a week and Sean had to know. He didn’t believe in things like werewolves—at least, he hadn’t thought he had—so mostly he was doing this to set his mind at ease. It had been late, and he wasnot as young as he used to be. The more outrageous the web made it seem, the more he could convince himself he’d misunderstood that night.
He went through his coffee and muffin, held off using the bathroom until he couldn’t stand it anymore, and got up. On his way back he was going to order another coffee but saw Dane was cleaning the machines. Sean pulled out his phone and checked the time. Nearly one in the morning. Crypt Coffee was closed.
“Got some old regular in a carafe,” said Dane, back to him. “Can’t promise it won’t kill you, but I’ll give it to you free.”
“Thanks,” said Sean, bringing his mug and plate to the counter. “But aren’t you closed?”
Dane leaned on the counter toward him and Sean froze.
“Stay as long as you want, professor. Drink my shitty old coffee, screw your bedtime. Live a little.”
“Uh, thanks,” said Sean, wanting to flirt back yet not sure still that was what Dane was doing. The few times he’d been in Crypt Coffee, the owner seemed to like making his customers uneasy. Probably as a gimmick. And Sean didn’t want to be so desperate he’d mistake an act for a possibility.
Dane was right, this coffee was no good, but Sean drank it anyway. All the conflicting information about werewolves was bleeding together in his head and he knew he’d need to call it quits soon. It was barely one-thirty. Dane would probably laugh at him when he left. He glanced up, wondering where the owner had gone, seeing an open door toward the back of the shop. Back room. Inventory or some shit. Sean supposed life was dull for everyone everywhere, which was a severely disappointing thought this time ofnight. He turned back to his laptop, and that was when he saw the ghost.
Sean blinked, pulled off his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes, but the ghost hadn’t disappeared, only drifted farther across the coffee shop. He was gauzy and dapperly dressed, clearly from no recent period, and Sean briefly considered the possibility that Dane’s coffee had killed him. Or maybe he wasasleep on the table. Whatever the case, he stood. He’d fled the night he saw the student murdered—he wasn’t going to run again.
The ghost slid through the air like a fish, reality seeming to ripple slightly around him. Sean followed him to the open door to the back room and hesitated when the ghost entered. If he called to Dane, warned him of a ghost, and he was just seeing things, he doubted Dane would ever let it drop. Sean entered.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone