It was amusing seeing Yara fumble her words as she introduced herself to Deen. Was she intimidated? My view of Yara as a haughty, nose-in-the-air, mean girl type from our first interaction could be wrong. She might be normally pleasant and just woke up on the wrong side of the bed back then.

We called the waitress to order—surf and turf, the most expensive item on the menu. Just because we were girls didn’t mean we should only eat salad. That was rabbit food. Since we were on vacation, we should treat ourselves.

Deen’s treat, to be accurate. I should act nice to her in return.

“I’m also going to order my dessert now, please.” I pointed at a picture on the menu.

“Sure thing, ma’am,” said the waitress. “One large scoop of roasted milk ice cream with coconut shavings.” She turned to Deen and Yara, pen over paper, poised to take their chosen desserts too. They said they’d order after the main course. The waitress nodded as she took the menus. “Sure, no problem. I’ll bring the ice cream along with whatever else you girls will decide later.”

I raised a hand. “Oh, wait. Can you bring the ice cream with the steak and lobster and stuff?”

The waitress gave me a quizzical look. “But, ma’am, if I serve it early, it’ll melt.”

“I like melted ice cream.”

“She has weird food preferences,” Deen whispered to Yara after the waitress left. Deen’s eyes widened as she looked at me, realizing her words could also be a dig at Blanchette. My idiot best friend thought I was offended.

“People differ in their preferences,” I said to Yara, ignoring Deen’s apologetic stare. “And that’s normal. Different is normal. You, on the other hand—” I pointed at Yara “—chose to be the not normal sort of different.”

“Yes, Ms. Erind,” Yara said. “I willingly chose this path.”

“Well, if it’s really your choice, I won’t try to change your mind. But you do have worries, so I thought finding friends was the answer. Think of it like you’ve just transferred to a new school. Fitting in a regular school is hard enough, how much more a school of monsters?”

“I don’t…” Yara furrowed her brows.

“With me and Deen—I call her by her second name—you have an Adumbrae friend and a human friend. It’ll keep you anchored. Like, you’re seriously going to have an identity crisis when you’re trying to get used to your new body.”

“Is it safe to talk about that here?” Yara asked in low tones, stealing glances around to check if anyone would overhear us.

“The employees here are in on it. I mean, they don’t really know, know, if you get what I mean. But they’re in the employ of Big Marcy. This is a frequent hangout spot for us.” I was talking shit, of course. Sorry, Gus of Gus’s Steakhouse and Seafood, for branding you a criminal accomplice.

Yara became more relaxed. Deen talked with her while we waited for our order—it was Deen’s job to make Yara comfortable. Other than establishing contact for the Red Island trip, this would also show Yara we weren’t so bad, so she should side with us after the 2Ms fall. Deen was on board with the plan, very enthusiastically so because it meant I was relying on her. However, Deen wasn’t so sure we could or should rely on Yara’s family for support.

I didn’t tell Deen, but I suspected the McHunters would be very happy to have a true Adumbrae friend. Anyone would appreciate powerful friends—this usually meant wealthy and connected people, but the concept should apply to me as well. Mr. Tussell was very respectful, in awe of me even, after Big Marcy introduced me. Given their history, I bet Yara’s family would appreciate the brand of power I brought.

Not surprisingly, Deen and Yara had plenty of common acquaintances. Deen adeptly navigated the conversation, wriggling out of Yara the names of other rich people connected to the 2Ms. Those were all potential allies.

Allies might be too… optimistic. Possible enemies too.

“I’m glad I met you two,” said Yara as the waitress arranged the platter of meat and seafood in front of us. “You can’t believe how stressed I was these past few days… weeks. Since I was told to—since I decided to go through with this.”

Thankfully, Yara didn’t blurt out anything stupid while the waitress was by our table.

I cut a piece of steak. It was pink in the middle with reddish juices flowing. It sort of looked like blood; I knew it wasn’t. Memories of tearing apart human and inhuman flesh, both as Blanchette and as my cute Erind self, resurfaced. I expected to be disgusted by the thought and lose my appetite, but it didn’t disturb me at all. I just found it funny.

I chewed on the piece of meat. It was very different from biting warm flesh off a living body when I was Blanchette. I’d never bite anyone when not transformed. The texture, the taste, the smell. This steak tasted a bazillion times better than raw human meat was my conclusion. A no-brainer.

“Oh, the food is good,” said Deen, taking a teensy-weensy bite of the lobster before switching to the side of leafy greens. “I thought this was going to be an overpriced touristy place with no regard for quality.” I looked at her. She added, “…since this restaurant is just a cover.”

To steer the topic from the price of the food, which I certainly wasn’t paying, I asked Yara, “Other than the procedure, you’re probably also concerned about the changes afterward, aren’t you?”

She eagerly nodded. “Yes, Ms. Erind. Is that something you can talk about?”

“Of course. It's not some big secret among us compared to the location of Red Island.”

My human days seemed so long ago even though it had only been a few months. Plenty changed. Plenty stayed the same. But I hadn’t forgotten my former feebleness because of my Domino transformation.

I told Yara that she’d have to adjust to superhuman strength. She chuckled at my stories of accidentally destroying stuff because I couldn’t control it, like my poor alarm clock. Having a different outlook on life because of her powers was a possibility, I added. Deen shifted in her seat, lips pursed, as I counseled Yara that she could become reckless or cocky.

“It’s all upside, basically,” I said. “You’ll have a superhuman body that regenerates, and you don’t get voices in your head and that sort of crazy stuff. The Adumbrae won’t try taking over your body.” Deen sat straight when I said that. “Oh yeah, your body is also unblemished. No mutations whatever.”

I closed my hand under the table. My fingerless glove was a permanent part of my ensemble now, at least for my right hand. If the trend continued, the crystals on my palm would cover my hand as it transformed into SpookyErind’s gauntlet.

How could I hide it at that point? Would cutting off my hand even work? An aug-arm was way more inconspicuous than wrapping my hand with a towel or wearing a boxing glove or something.

Yara leaned closer as I paused to think, expecting more of my words of wisdom. Deen was also looking at me with a raised brow.

“I suppose you have other concerns,” I said. “Like the BID… um, maybe police clearances, documents that require Adumbrae screening like certain visas, things we have to navigate in normal life after you’ll turn not-so-normal.”

“I don’t view those as problems, Ms. Erind,” said Yara. “Inconveniences at the most. It’s nothing that money, connections, or both can’t fix. We have experience with that.” She smirked, looking to the side. “The only genuine threat is getting caught by the BID. And it already happened before.”

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“What happened to Eve was tragic.” I somberly nodded, looking at the lobster.

Why the hell were these giant sea insects so expensive? Taste-wise, they were just overgrown shrimps. I bet it had something to do with demand and supply, and a newly-acquired taste of people in recent history. I’ve read those oxtails used to be cheap as dirt, literally just thrown away. Now, they were delicacies and made even more expensive given that cows only had one tail.

“Many people we knew died during the BID raid,” Deen chimed in.

She eyed me with concern. Did she assume I was traumatized by it? Come to think of it, she was also there. Was she traumatized by the BID raid?

“A number of our family acquaintances were also killed by the BID,” said Yara. “In some ways, the explosion was lucky because it wiped out evidence that could’ve been used to identify them. But I wasn’t talking about that incident. The McHunter’s history… we have our own experience dealing with the BID. My grandfather…”

I picked at the lobster. “Right, right. So, you understand the situation more than… more than me when I joined the exclusive monster club. More than most of us. I didn’t think of the risks back then.”

Yara nodded.

“But you still decided to choose this path?” I asked even though I knew she’d never admit she was forced.

“Ye-yes. Yes, Ms. Erind. Erm, can I ask how you managed to survive the BID raid?”

I whipped out the story of my escape with Vanessa’s group, with only minor deviations. Both Yara and Deen intently listened, the food forgotten. I was a master of storytelling. Plus, Deen hadn’t heard it in this much detail before.

“You can ask Vanessa about it when you meet her,” I said. “Vanessa Minnows. Minnows as in the former mayor of La Esperanza? That guy has some BID problems himself.”

Vanessa—another possible resource. And ally? Fortunately, she was far away so she wouldn’t be forced to fight me at Red Island. She was crazy, plain and simple, but she seemed to think of herself as my friend. If the 2Ms were gone, she might join me. But if the 2Ms were gone… how could Vanessa stop Adumbrae mutations?

“Ms. Erind,” Yara said, snapping me out of my scheming. “Did you encounter Red Hood during the BID attack on Eve? I’ve heard rumors. She can turn herself into this giant beast. I’m not sure where she’s from.”

Deen looked like she wanted to stab Yara with the steak knife to silence her. I knew Deen had it in her—she showed that side when we disposed of the frat boys.

“I also don’t know,” I said before Deen could increase her kill count. “Just rumors here and there. They say she’s a true Adumbrae that Mark and Big Marcy probably offended her in some way.”

“A true Adumbrae?” Yara gasped.

“And yes, I saw Red Hood’s humongous werewolf form that fateful night at Eve. I just ran… and ran… the cavern was collapsing. I could’ve died back then. No amount of regeneration would help if I was eaten.”

“I’m sorry for asking, Ms. Erind. If I was there, I-I don’t know what I… I’ll just run away too, and hope for the best.”

“That’s the only answer,” said Deen in a monotone. She was staring at the beach outside with blank eyes, probably reliving what happened at Eve’s underground arena. If Bianca’s bodyguard didn’t save Deen, she would’ve been dead.

Yara shuddered. “I hope the power I’ll gain after my operation is useful for survival. Or something that can help me hide and flee. What are your powers, Ms. Erind? Forget my question if it’s against the secrecy rule.”

“I don’t mind answering,” I said. Making up stories was fun. But before I could say more, annoying laughter echoed up the stairs, souring the light jazz playing.

Several guys emerged. I recognized Jeffrey and his friends. Was my made-up story true that this was a hangout spot for the 2Ms’ clients?

Weirdly, Jeffrey wasn’t in the lead. They were following someone else. A tall and stern man around his thirties who looked like a very badass henchman, the guy who’d be the final encounter of the protagonist. Most people would find him intimidating. But I found it funny he was wearing leather pants and a leather vest over his shirt on the beach and under the sun. He must stink. His swagger was also comical like he watched too many gangster movies and was trying to copy the most bullshit walk.

“That’s Theodore Hugh,” said Deen. “The son of Spencer Hugh.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

I couldn’t ask Yara if she knew if Theodore was an Adumbrae or not because I should know about it.

“I didn’t know he brought his son on the cruise,” I said. “Then again, I’m not going to Red Island this time.” That was enough of a hook for Yara. Based on her response, I could glean Theodore’s status.

However, Yara stayed silent. With a stony face, she looked down at her plate.

“Oy, Yara!” Theodore—I don’t like that name—had a deep voice. Sporting a huge smile, he came to our table.

Jeffrey and his friends exchanged worried glances as they trailed behind him. They weren’t acting like the usual backup of the dick antagonist. More like the reluctant grunts of a psycho boss. Why were they afraid of him?

“Hi,” Yara peeped.

Theodore picked up a slice of the steak and popped it into his mouth. While noisily munching it, he said, “Why didn’t you come to my room last night? We get to meet after such a long time, and you’re avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, barely audibly.

“Don’t forget that the fate of your family rides on the deal with my dad’s company. If the negotiations are derailed, you can say goodbye to your life of ritz and glamour. You might not mind it, but your family does, and you mind that, don’t you?”

“I-I know. Big Marcy scheduled a meeting with me and my brother. I can’t just go… somewhere. Big Marcy would’ve been angry if I was late.”

“Who cares what Big Marcy thinks? He’s just a human. Soon, you won’t be. Anyway, you should come with me now to make up for last night.” Theo turned to Deen. “And maybe your beautiful friend can come with us too. We have the full day here at Catalina Island.”

“No, thank you,” Deen replied, defiantly staring up at him.

“Don’t be like that, babe,” Theo the Trash said.

“I-I’m going, Theo,” said Yara, standing up. “Just leave my friends alone.”

“No, don’t go, Yara. You’re staying with us.” Deen glanced at me.

I wasn’t speaking because I was trying to keep down the tingles coursing through my body. Adrenaline. Excitement. I couldn’t remember the last time I experienced this level of happiness. This was it, the moment I didn’t know I was waiting for.

The universe gifted me with a generic, perverted, low-level villain and the perfect situation to save the damsel in distress. My time to be a main character! A slight hitch in that the main characters in this kind of situation were usually men—they had to show off their badassery in front of the leading lady. When it came to female action stars, they were the ones getting hit on by perverts who were going to get their asses handed to them.

But why shouldn’t it work in my case? Why couldn’t I ‘save’ Yara here? A twist to keep plots fresh—the twist was that Theo the Trash wasn’t going to hit on me anyway.

Oh, yeah. And I also got more information about Yara’s situation. Kinda helpful.

“Why are you acting like that, babe?” Theo reached out for Deen, but she pulled back before he could touch her. “You should feel honored to be with me. Don’t you know who I am?”

“I know who you are,” Deen said. “And I don’t care.”

“You know me?” Theo the Trash slammed his hand on the table and glowered at Deen. “Huh, you dumb bitch? You don’t know the real me!”

“Calm down, Theodore,” I said. A good start. The main characters try to diffuse the situation because they are the good guys.

Theo the Trash jolted. He looked at me as if it was the first time noticing me. “Surprised me there, kid. Don’t butt in when adults are talking.” He was painfully generically bad.

Yara pushed Theo. “Go on. We’re going already. Leave them alone.”

“Yara, sit down,” I said.

She looked at me then at Theo.

“Sit down,” I repeated.

She did.

Theo the Trash tried to grab Yara. “Why are you listening to a—Argh!”

I caught his forearm and squeezed it. His eyes went from angry to confused to concerned as he realized how strong I was. He gritted his teeth and refused to make any more noise of pain, desperate to keep his macho image intact, especially in front of beautiful girls. He tried to pull away his arm, but I kept it over the table.

I continued to squeeze. He tensed his muscles, refusing to yield, but I could feel him weakening. Bones began to give way. To his credit, he didn’t yell. Grimacing, he clenched his other fist.

“Theo,” I said in the most intimidating way that I could. Which wasn’t really scary at all given my soft voice. “If you don’t leave, I’ll kill you. Oh, and your buddies over here too.”

Theo frowned. Jeffrey backed a couple of steps, pulling his friends with him.

I let go of Theo’s arm. It was red and purplish and deformed. “I’m repeating myself only once,” I slowly said, looking at him in the eye. He breathed through his teeth. “If you don’t leave, I’ll kill all of you.”