Victoria:

She just had to wake me up in the early goddamned hours of the morning, didn’t she? While I was happy for the work so soon after signing that contract, that didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed at her for waking me up at three to let me know. Knowing her, she knew she needed someone before I had even entered the place last night.

The cold shower helped to wake me up enough to get on my way. As I exited the building, I stopped on the stairs, looking up at the sky. Hoping for some sort of hint as to what was in store for me today. While it was completely lacking in clouds and the various lights high above me shone down with their usual brilliance, there was no hint of an answer.

Sighing in resignation, my head lowered back to the ground as I stepped onto the sidewalk. While most people refused to get up this early, that didn’t mean the city truly ever slept. People always moving from place to place as they did this or that. Some in singles, others in groups. Some were drunk or high on something, while others looked like they were heading to work.

I wove my way around and avoided all of them. Not willing to tempt one into a drunken ass grab. It wouldn’t end well for them. Well, it wouldn’t end well for me either. With my luck, someone would call the cops and I would end up late to work. As the café came into sight, I noticed a small group of people lined up at the door.

I had heard of people being antsy for their coffee but seeing it was something else. Every eye tracked me as I made my way to the door. As I raised my knuckles to knock, one of the girls in line sneered. “Who do you think you are? No one is going to open that door early. Even the royal bitches have to wait in line.”

While my brows lifted, I otherwise ignored her. Rapping on the glass three times. No one answered making me wonder if Lena had thought that I would just figure out a way in on my own. Given that I couldn’t pick a lock nor was I willing to break the glass, I was stuck outside like the rest of these people.

“She is lucky that the owner didn’t hear her.” I heard one of the guys whisper.

“Right.”

“And here I was excited to see some fire.” A girl pouted. While these were some odd things to say, I had heard weirder. Sometimes I wondered if some of the adults out there grew up with issues telling fiction from reality.

As I turned to give Lena a call, I heard the lock in the door snick open. “Get in here.” Her tone implied that I was late. Shooting a glance at the clock on my phone I found that she was right, by a minute. A minute I had spent outside the café knocking to get her attention so she could let me in.

The sigh that left my lips was one of frustration and annoyance as I turned to follow her inside. As I passed, she continued, “I trust you still remember your way around the place?” She shut the door and locked it as I wound my way around the counter.

“Sure.” I did but who knew if she had added or changed something. “But I have never dealt with the opening crowd. Tell me again just in case something is different.”

Her grumble filled the otherwise quiet building as I started to prep the counter. Getting the drip coffee going while she started. “If the customer orders a one of our specials, ask to see their card. Verify they have the appropriate stamp before making it.”

That was one of the odd little quarks about this café that likely kept the place afloat. When I had started I had asked question after question about the packaged powders. She, and everyone that bought the stuff refused to answer anything. So, while I had worked here for years, I still had no clue what was in any of the little packets containing the powder. Ok, maybe there was one question that she had answered for me. The powders contained no drugs or illegal substances.

“So nothing has changed?” I asked.

She shot me a look that conveyed her thoughts on my question. “Get me a Devil’s Fire.” It was the same drink she always got when I was here. Sometimes I wondered why she didn’t try something else but who was I to judge?

Then again, she might have been doing it to make sure that I was doing my job correctly. Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Let me see your card?” While I had seen the things often enough to know what I was looking for, that didn’t mean I wasn’t impressed with the things.

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The card looked professionally made. Even going so far as to be laminated and with a picture of her on one side. If one didn’t but get a quick glance at it, they might mistake it for a driver's license. Not that there was much information displayed on it. Most of the space was completely devoid of any text. Double-checking her name and the symbol to one side, I verified that she could have the requested drink.

Some coffee, some milk, and a bit of ice went into a blender. As soon as it was mixed up enough, I opened the cabinet under the register. The silver bags were lined up. Each row was marked with a different symbol. The one she had ordered was marked with a crimson flame motif.

Careful to not breathe in or dump the powder all over, I dumped the grey-red powder into the mixer. The moment the machine came on, the powder vanished. It took a few seconds before the brown drink took on a more crimson color. As I moved the liquid into a cup, I found that the liquid seemed warmer than it should have been. Probably from some reaction with the powder. It may even have had to do with the clear hint of spices I smelled every time I made the drink.

She didn’t even wait for me to pass her a straw before draining a third in one long pull. Her moan made it clear that she was just as fixated on her weird coffee as the rest of those people standing in line outside. “You should probably open the doors,” I said, interrupting her moment. Gesturing up at the clock as she shot me a glare.

While one might have expected the people to push their way in the moment Lena unlocked the door, they didn’t. Waiting instead for her to get a few feet away before finally, calmly, entering the building.

“Can I get a Hunter’s Feast please?” The chick that had scoffed at me earlier asked. Her eyes pleading.

While I could be petty and tell her to wait for a bit, I wasn’t my mother. “Let me see your card?” I asked instead. As I started to mix her drink, I found myself again wondering just what I would have to do to be allowed to drink them myself.

Ok, I will admit, I had been tempted to try and sneak one when I first started. The issues with doing that were two-fold. Lena would find out and fire me before the end of the day. Likely due to whatever security system she had installed. I didn’t know nor did I want to know. The other issue stems from the way they all look before and after drinking the things.

Each acted as if they were getting a fix of something amazing. Almost as if getting a hit of their go-to drug. While I could attribute some of that to the coffee, I doubted that was all it was. Even if everyone I asked insisted there were no drugs inside the damn things, I doubted it every time I saw someone drinking the stuff.

After a fast-paced hour of mixing, the crowd thinned out. Most had left as soon as they got their hit. All that was left was the guy standing in front of my counter. The guy talking on his cell phone and ignoring my questions. “Look, I found a decent property in Northern Michigan. Lots of forest while still having easy access to the highway.”

He listened to something the person said on the other side before continuing. “Yep. The owner is selling it at cost. Something about needing the money as soon as possible.”

Something about that statement stuck in my head. The information milled around for a few seconds before finally connecting with something I had read online while I was still in high school. While I couldn’t be sure that this information was truly related, something told me it was. “Excuse me?” I tried, this time setting my hand on his arm.

The arm jerked away as if my touch had seared his flesh. “What?! Can’t you see I am in the middle of a phone call?”

Anger bubbling to the surface, I took a deep breath and tried to push it back down. “First off, you are at the front of the line and need to either order or get out of the way.” I started. My tone was soft but even I could still hear the underlying snap belying my anger. “Second off, I am fairly sure that a computer company was working on a deal with the state and federal government to build a facility up there.”

He stood there looking like he was about to lose it for a second. “You know nothing about what it is I am doing or who I am. Stay out of my business. Instead, why don’t you stick to what you do best and make me a Crimson Delight.”

Before I even had to ask, he presented his card. Sure enough, he had the odd symbol for the drink. Instead of a crimson flame, there was a white crescent moon with a blood-red drop hanging off the lowest point. Seeing this, I went about making his order.

Milk, ice, and three shots of coffee later, the mixer was ready for the black powder. As the powder fell into the mixer, the light reflected off a few pieces. The grain size of this item was one of the larger of the bunch. The size and shape reminded me of small crystals falling through the air. The black color of the crystals vanished as one caught the light just right. Reflecting from one to the other as odd streaks of red cascaded into and out of sight.

Capping the mixer, I turned it on and watched as the crystals all vanished. Pulled into the deep as the blade churned through the liquid. A deep red, almost black color oozed up out from the bottom. Wrapping itself up the edges and back to the center. Slowly growing in size and number as the crystals dissolved into the liquid.

The moment the liquid stopped changing colors, I dumped the liquid into a cup. I say dump because the stuff now had the consistency of syrup. I mean, you could pour the stuff if you were willing to sit there and wait for it to go where you wanted it.

As soon as he had the cup, he practically sprinted out of the place. Something about his actions hurt but I couldn’t tell why. I didn’t know the guy nor did I care. Maybe it had to do with the glimpse of fear and anger I had caught before he had made his getaway.

But it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. Not to me. I was here for me and no one else. And, given the amount of money in the tip jar, I was going to be able to get some groceries.