Aspen Read Online Free Page B

low echo; it was like the storm had stopped directly overhead.
    Lights appeared to the west and Aspen watched them with mild annoyance. She’d been hoping to head home at midnight, but customers were customers and Creek’s philosophy was that the diner stayed open as long as there was someone to feed. She watched, hoping the car would pass them by as so many did, but instead it pulled into the lot and stopped in the spot nearest the door. The vehicle was an old Chevrolet of some kind, white with chrome trim. The single occupant sat behind the wheel for a moment like he was watching the diner then slid out and splashed through the puddles and through the diner’s double glass doors. He was a tall man wearing a beige rain coat that reminded Aspen of Rupert Levac, but where Rupert was average in almost every way, this man was tall. Close-cropped black hair peeked out from beneath a fedora so wet it was plastered to his skull and his grey suit was soaked through. Everything looked at least one size too big.
    The man wrung his hat out in the breeze way then tossed it onto the counter and took a seat on one of the old stools.
    Aspen woke Jynx, who had curled up in one of the booths, and moved behind the counter. A menu, silverware, and napkins were placed in front of the newcomer, who was still dripping with rain.
    “Coffee?” Aspen asked.
    “Please,” the man said. “And could I trouble you for—”
    Aspen dropped a clean dish towel beside the menu and turned to get a fresh cup.
    “Thank you,” the man said with a laugh.
    Aspen poured a generous cup of coffee and offered it to him. “You’re welcome. That storm is a beast.”
    The man gave a small smile. “Indeed. I’ve been driving in it for what seems forever. Just driving…”
    He sipped at the coffee then perused the menu with the air of a man who was looking for something in particular. After a few minutes, he set it aside and Aspen took his order. She handed it through to Creek, who appeared at the window as always, then walked back down the counter to where Jynx was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
    “Want me to ask Creek if any of the rooms out back are clean?” Aspen asked.
    Jynx flicked something out of her eye. “Yeah, I don’t feel like going out in that to find a room.”
    Creek shuffled into view with an old green keychain. The number four was written on the chain in gold glitter.
    “Nummer fo’ is all yers, Jynxie,” he rumbled.
    Creek was a mountain of a man, the kind who might have once been mistaken for a bridge troll. He stood almost seven feet tall, with lanky arms and legs that made him seem even taller. His head seemed slightly too big for the rest of him and one tooth stuck out against his upper lip like a tusk. But he was one of the kindest souls Aspen had ever met.
    Jynx took the key and stuffed it into her pocket. “Thanks, Creek.”
    He bowed his head and shuffled back into the kitchen.
    “There are clean towels in the hallway closet, your key will—”
    Jynx cut her off. “I know the drill, Asp, I’ve been here before. Catch you in the morning.”
    Aspen watched Jynx run through the rain to the small building behind the diner, which was the sort of run-down hotel below the standards of even the most strung-out meth addict. But it was clean and safe, which was more than enough for most hunters. When the door had closed on the storm, Aspen looked back at the stranger, who was looking out the window at the rain. He looked haunted, with sunken eyes that hadn’t slept in days and a slight stubble around his chin that indicated he’d shaved in a hurry. His knuckles were bruised and scabbed and he moved stiffly, as if he was sore. He caught Aspen looking and smiled.
    “It’s quite a storm, isn’t it?” he asked.
    Aspen slung her dish towel over her shoulder and picked up the one he’d used. It was sopping wet and lightly streaked with blood. She tossed it into the laundry hamper beneath the counter and looked out the