Aspen Read Online Free
Book: Aspen Read Online Free
Author: Skye Knizley
his steak. “I beg your pardon?”
Aspen hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Just wondering why I left home. How’s the steak?”
Clay’s weather-worn face cracked into a smile revealing the tombstone lumps of his teeth. “Bloody, just like I like it. You can tell ol’ Creek he done good.”
Aspen glanced at Clay’s plate. Steak fries floated in a pool of blood that threatened to wash over the sides of the cracked white plate and surrounded the lump of meat that had, once, been a bulk-sold sirloin as tough as shoe leather. The sight made her stomach growl and she returned her attention to the stain, which was stubbornly refusing to come clean.
Why had she left Chicago? Life with Raven was great, better than anything she had expected in her lifetime. She’d wandered from job to job since college, always running when the Gallowglass or local Master discovered her. But Raven was different. She didn’t want magik or power, all Raven wanted was Aspen’s friendship and, if she would admit it to herself, Aspen’s love. Aspen could feel Raven’s love even now, three hundred miles away.
And maybe that was the problem. Aspen knew Raven loved her as much as she loved Raven, but Raven wouldn’t say anything. She was too afraid of hurting Rupert and screwing up their friendship to treat Aspen as anything but a friend. It was maddening. So…she’d left. Yet another dumb move.
The bell over the door rang and Aspen looked up to see a lanky, blonde girl enter. The girl looked to be seventeen or so, with long, blonde hair streaked with pink and eyes hidden behind chrome aviator glasses. She was wearing a rain-soaked leather jacket over a black tee that read “I Smell Like Strippers” and jeans tucked into combat boots. The girl pulled off her glasses and took a seat at the counter.
“Can I get a menu?” she asked in a thick southern accent.
Aspen pulled a fresh plastic menu from the stack beneath the counter and handed it to the girl. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Coffee and a shot of Irish, if you’ve got it,” the girl replied.
Aspen smiled. “If I ask for ID, am I going to get a fake one that says you’re old enough to drink?”
The girl arched an eyebrow. “Does it matter how I answer?”
Aspen laughed. “No. Because I’m not going to give you booze. But the coffee is fresh and hot and strong enough to put hair on your eyes.”
Aspen spun and pulled the carafe from the heater behind her. She plonked a cup and saucer older than she was onto the counter and poured the girl a generous cup. The girl perused the menu with a look of annoyance on her face.
“Let me know when you decide,” Aspen said.
The girl tossed the menu onto the counter. “I’ll take the cheeseburger. I want it dead, if it looks like that guy’s steak I won’t eat it. Double fries, no slaw.”
Aspen nodded and turned to Creek, who had appeared over the grill behind her. She repeated the order and rang it into the cash-register before turning back to the girl.
“It will be right up. Can I ask what brings you out here? You aren’t exactly our normal clientele,” Aspen said.
The girl made a face. “You mean I’m not old, wrinkled, and grouchy?”
“Not old and wrinkled, anyway. The vote is still out on grouchy,” Aspen said.
The girl stared at her. “I’m not grouchy. It’s just been a long day and I just needed a safe place to grab a bite and decompress. Is that all right with you?”
Aspen leaned on the counter and poured herself a cup of tea from a pot she kept beside the coffee. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The girl cocked her head. “What are you, the local shrink?”
“Bartender,” Aspen replied. “We’re good listeners.”
The girl shrugged. “Nothing major. My sister and I were cleaning out a nest not far from here and she got bit. She’s spending the night at the clinic down the street, that’s all.”
Aspen sipped her tea, a motion that gave her time to think. It was
Aspen hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Just wondering why I left home. How’s the steak?”
Clay’s weather-worn face cracked into a smile revealing the tombstone lumps of his teeth. “Bloody, just like I like it. You can tell ol’ Creek he done good.”
Aspen glanced at Clay’s plate. Steak fries floated in a pool of blood that threatened to wash over the sides of the cracked white plate and surrounded the lump of meat that had, once, been a bulk-sold sirloin as tough as shoe leather. The sight made her stomach growl and she returned her attention to the stain, which was stubbornly refusing to come clean.
Why had she left Chicago? Life with Raven was great, better than anything she had expected in her lifetime. She’d wandered from job to job since college, always running when the Gallowglass or local Master discovered her. But Raven was different. She didn’t want magik or power, all Raven wanted was Aspen’s friendship and, if she would admit it to herself, Aspen’s love. Aspen could feel Raven’s love even now, three hundred miles away.
And maybe that was the problem. Aspen knew Raven loved her as much as she loved Raven, but Raven wouldn’t say anything. She was too afraid of hurting Rupert and screwing up their friendship to treat Aspen as anything but a friend. It was maddening. So…she’d left. Yet another dumb move.
The bell over the door rang and Aspen looked up to see a lanky, blonde girl enter. The girl looked to be seventeen or so, with long, blonde hair streaked with pink and eyes hidden behind chrome aviator glasses. She was wearing a rain-soaked leather jacket over a black tee that read “I Smell Like Strippers” and jeans tucked into combat boots. The girl pulled off her glasses and took a seat at the counter.
“Can I get a menu?” she asked in a thick southern accent.
Aspen pulled a fresh plastic menu from the stack beneath the counter and handed it to the girl. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Coffee and a shot of Irish, if you’ve got it,” the girl replied.
Aspen smiled. “If I ask for ID, am I going to get a fake one that says you’re old enough to drink?”
The girl arched an eyebrow. “Does it matter how I answer?”
Aspen laughed. “No. Because I’m not going to give you booze. But the coffee is fresh and hot and strong enough to put hair on your eyes.”
Aspen spun and pulled the carafe from the heater behind her. She plonked a cup and saucer older than she was onto the counter and poured the girl a generous cup. The girl perused the menu with a look of annoyance on her face.
“Let me know when you decide,” Aspen said.
The girl tossed the menu onto the counter. “I’ll take the cheeseburger. I want it dead, if it looks like that guy’s steak I won’t eat it. Double fries, no slaw.”
Aspen nodded and turned to Creek, who had appeared over the grill behind her. She repeated the order and rang it into the cash-register before turning back to the girl.
“It will be right up. Can I ask what brings you out here? You aren’t exactly our normal clientele,” Aspen said.
The girl made a face. “You mean I’m not old, wrinkled, and grouchy?”
“Not old and wrinkled, anyway. The vote is still out on grouchy,” Aspen said.
The girl stared at her. “I’m not grouchy. It’s just been a long day and I just needed a safe place to grab a bite and decompress. Is that all right with you?”
Aspen leaned on the counter and poured herself a cup of tea from a pot she kept beside the coffee. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The girl cocked her head. “What are you, the local shrink?”
“Bartender,” Aspen replied. “We’re good listeners.”
The girl shrugged. “Nothing major. My sister and I were cleaning out a nest not far from here and she got bit. She’s spending the night at the clinic down the street, that’s all.”
Aspen sipped her tea, a motion that gave her time to think. It was