The Barista's Fangs
The bell above the café door jingled when I walked in, the smell of cinnamon and burnt espresso wrapping around me like a blanket. It was 11 PM—closing time—and the only other person here was Lila, the barista, wiping down the counter. Her dark hair was tied in a messy bun, and there was a smudge of chocolate on her cheek.
“Last call,” she said, glancing up with a smile. “You want your usual? Oat milk latte, extra foam?”
I nodded, sliding onto a stool. “Make it quick. I’ve got a job tonight.”
Lila laughed, turning to the espresso machine. The sound was soft, warm—too warm for someone who’d been working since dawn. I watched her hands: steady, no tremor, even though the machine’s steam hissed like a snake. But when she reached for the milk, her sleeve slipped down, and I saw it—a faint, silver scar on her wrist, shaped like a cross.
My hand tightened around the stake in my coat pocket. The Order had given me the photo this afternoon: a woman with Lila’s face, standing over a body, fangs glinting. “Vampire, class A,” the note said. “Feeds on night shift workers. Last seen at this café.”
Lila set the latte in front of me, the foam perfectly shaped like a heart. “You look tense, Jax. Everything okay?”
I took a sip, the warmth burning my tongue. “Just… long day. Hunting.”
Her smile faded, just for a second. “Hunting what?”
“Things that go bump in the night.” I leaned forward, eyes on her wrist. “You know. Vampires.”
Lila’s fingers brushed the scar, and she laughed—too loud, too forced. “Vampires? You’re kidding. This old thing? I got it from a camping trip. Fell on a nail.”
I nodded, but my hand didn’t leave the stake. “Right. Camping. So you weren’t at the gas station last Tuesday? The one where the clerk was found dead, throat torn out?”
Her jaw tightened. The café lights flickered, and for a second, her eyes looked darker—almost black. “I was working here. Ask the manager.”
“I did.” I pulled a photo from my pocket, sliding it across the counter. It was the clerk’s body, the bite marks clear. “He said you left early. Said you were ‘sick.’”
Lila stared at the photo, her hands trembling. Then she looked up, and her smile was gone—replaced by something cold, something hungry. “You’re a hunter.”
It wasn’t a question. I stood, pulling the stake from my pocket. “And you’re a vampire. The Order wants you dead.”
Lila laughed, a low, throaty sound. She stepped back, and her body shifted—her nails growing longer, sharper, her eyes turning pure black. Fangs dropped from her gums, glistening with saliva. “You think you can kill me? I’ve been hunting hunters for a century.”
She lunged, faster than I expected. I dodged, the stake slicing through her sleeve. She screamed, and the café windows shattered, glass flying everywhere. I grabbed a chair, swinging it at her. She caught it, snapping it in half like it was toothpicks.
“You’re slow,” she purred, circling me. “Too slow.”
I backed away, my hand brushing the fire extinguisher under the counter. Vampires hated fire—everyone knew that. I grabbed it, pulling the pin, and sprayed. Lila screamed, jumping back, her skin smoking where the foam touched her.
“Cheat,” she hissed, her face contorted in rage.
“I’m just playing to win.” I charged, stake raised. She dodged, but I grabbed her arm, driving the stake toward her heart. She kicked me in the stomach, and I fell to the floor, the stake sliding across the tile.
Lila stood over me, her foot on my chest. “You’re gonna die, hunter. Slowly. Painfully.”
I reached for the stake, but it was too far. Her fangs neared my neck, and I closed my eyes—waiting for the end. But then she froze, her body trembling. She stepped back, gasping, her eyes returning to normal.
“What’s… what’s happening?” she whispered, clutching her chest.
I sat up, confused. “What’s wrong with you?”
Lila looked at her hands, like she didn’t recognize them. “I can’t… I can’t control it. The hunger. It’s too strong.” She looked at me, tears in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to kill him. The clerk. I was hungry, and he was there, and I—”
She stopped, sobbing. I stared at her, the stake in my hand. This wasn’t the vampire the Order had described. This was a girl—scared, broken, fighting something she couldn’t control.
“The scar,” I said. “It’s not from a nail. Is it?”
Lila nodded, wiping her tears. “It’s a silver cross. My mother gave it to me. She was a hunter. She tried to cure me. But it didn’t work. It just… keeps the hunger at bay. For a while.”
I stood, putting the stake in my pocket. “The Order doesn’t care about that. They just want you dead.”
“I know.” She looked at the door, then back at me. “You’re gonna turn me in, aren’t you?”
I hesitated. The Order would reward me—money, a promotion. But looking at her, at the fear in her eyes, I couldn’t do it. “No. But you have to leave. Now. Before someone else finds you.”
Lila stared at me, shocked. “Why? You’re a hunter. This is your job.”
“My job is to protect people. Not kill ones who don’t want to be monsters.” I handed her the fire extinguisher. “Take this. It’ll help if you run into another hunter. And lose the café. They’ll find you here.”
She nodded, taking the extinguisher. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”
She walked to the door, then turned. “What’s your name?”
“Jax.”
“Jax,” she said, smiling—soft, real, this time. “Goodbye.”
The bell jingled as she left. I looked around the café—broken glass, shattered chairs, blood on the floor. The Order would find out. They always did. But for now, I’d done the right thing.
I picked up the stake, sliding it into my pocket. Then I grabbed a broom, starting to clean. The clock struck midnight, and the café went quiet—quiet except for the sound of my heart, still racing.
Outside, Lila walked into the night, the fire extinguisher in her hand. She didn’t look back. But somewhere, in the shadows, a figure watched—black coat, silver cross around its neck. The Order had found her. And they weren’t gonna let her get away.