Art of Falling

Chapter Two

Regal didn’t waste his time hunting in rural areas. There wasn’t enough prey to kill without someone noticing a pattern. He preferred working in built-up urban cities like San Diego, where one missing person or two wouldn’t create much of a stir. Yet, in the small town of Woodburn, Iowa, everybody knew everybody. The risk of being caught was too high, even though he was sure that would never happen.

The one good thing about rural communities is that they were the perfect place to relax after a long weekend of work. That is, if you could find a place to settle.

He had managed to find a new diner toward the middle of town called The Goldfinch. It was a small establishment, resembling a wooden cabin to give it the homey feel that made it the most successful diner in the area. During the day it was filled with customers, mainly elderly couples in the afternoon, and families in the evening. However, as the sun set and night approached, the diner became empty.

This is when The Goldfinch became a haven for people with big dreams. It was home for teenagers and young adults who were looking to become something greater than what the town had to offer. They gathered at dusk to eat and drink while their friends stood in front of the diner to recite poems and play instruments. Next to woodworking and welding, being a musician or slam poet was considered the next best job opportunity.

By day, they dressed like well-to-do gentlemen and proper ladies, but at night they became wild. They wore racy clothes, listened to secular music, and cheered on their fellow poets and musicians with snaps and whistles. They would mutter amongst themselves, discussing the deeper meaning and the flow of poetry and literature.

Regal thought it was all a load of nonsense.

Sitting in the darkest corner of the room, he leaned back in his seat and watched the newest performer walk onto the stage. In his limp grip was a lukewarm cup of black coffee, which he swirled with lackluster. His gray eyes glazed over with boredom as yet another annoying and monotone voice rang in his ears.

I should kill him, he thought tiredly as he closed his eyes. I’m sure he won’t be missed. Regal probably would have done so, too, if he weren’t too tired to bother.

Regal took a sip of his coffee. He wrinkled his nose as the bitter liquid touched his tongue. He couldn’t stand coffee. Yet the dark and quiet ambiance of the diner after dark was soothing. So, he continued to drink it, blending in as best as he could.

Whether he liked it or not, this was his crowd. They drove him insane, but they didn’t question his presence. To them, he was “cool,” and he didn’t judge them for wanting more out of life than being a lumberjack.

He couldn’t wait to get out of there and head back to New York City. That’s where all of the interesting souls lived.

Regal preferred hunting the Mythos over humans. The fabled creatures were more of a challenge; some of the put up a fight, and others sensed the danger that came off of him before he could get close. The resistance made it more fun.

Many of the people in Woodburn were normal humans—boring and stupid. However, there was a surprising amount of Mythos visiting The Goldfinch that night, which is why Regal hadn’t decided to leave earlier.

He continued to lazily watch the crowd, taking note of the Mythos: a male pixie worked behind the counter serving shitty lattes, and the small pack of she-wolves gossiped amongst themselves at one of the tables. Even the young man playing guitar on stage resembled one of the mer-folk despite his human scent. Yet none of them fully roused his appetite.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a young woman in her late 20s searching for a place to sit. As she came closer, Regal examined her: wavy brown hair, dark chocolate eyes, and an average face; he had seen much better. She wore a tight blue and black sweater, cute stilettos, and chunky bracelets.

He watched her with dark eyes, scanning her body up and down. From what he could tell, she was a normal human with no signs of any mythological bloodlines. He could do better, and he wasn’t in the mood to try and seduce her; he was still exhausted from his last catch in Des Moines.

Fate seemed to be on his side that night, as her gaze connected with his own. Regal perked up as she walked over to him, her hips swaying in time with the clicking of her heels on the wooden floor. She didn’t seem to be the shy type, which was a welcome change of pace for Regal. For once, he wouldn’t be the one chasing after the women—not that it was ever much of a chase anyways. He caught the smell of her perfume as she came closer. It was sweet, just like the smile on her face as her dark red lips curled up to show perfect white teeth.

“Hey there,” she said. “Mind if I have a seat?”

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful,” Regal replied smoothly.

The woman chuckled at his response and sat down beside him. She crossed her legs, subtly flashing him some skin. Regal smirked as she leaned closer until their shoulders were brushing.

“My name is Jen.”

Regal smiled despite his urge to roll his eyes. Hell, even her name was boring. “Eric.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Jen asked with a seductive grin. She twirled a piece of her hair around her finger. Regal had learned to pick up on these classic cliché signs of flirting after years of experience.

He acted surprised by her statement. “How’d you know?”

“I think I would remember someone like you.”

Regal’s smirk grew, eyes narrowing just enough to let her notice. Ah, so she was playing that game. Too bad he wasn’t in the mood for compliments or flirting. He wanted something much more... instinctual.

“Just passing through, actually,” he stated, leaning back into his chair as he sipped his coffee again. It had already grown cold, but he wouldn’t show it. It wasn’t “sexy” to gag on your stale drink.

Jen frowned, her lower lip pouting. “That’s too bad. I’d love to show you around the town.”

There isn’t much of a town to show, he thought cynically. “I’d like that too,” he lied with a coy grin he had mastered with practice. It was the subtle reactions that always did the best job at making women swoon. His playful smile and subtle hint of interest did the job, causing her cheeks to flush a bit and her pupils to dilate with desire.

“You don’t seem like you’re enjoying this place very much,” she cooed, glancing around the café.

Regal shrugged in response. “It’s alright.”

Focusing back on him, she scooted closer in her seat, brushing her leg against his. “We can always ditch this place and have fun elsewhere.”

Now that was what he wanted to hear.

“Sounds good to me,” he purred as he ran a hand against her thigh. She shivered under the gentle touch. Regal loved it when they reacted the way they were supposed to. It was even better when they willingly came to him. He didn’t have to work hard to flatter and seduce them. “Where would you like to go?”

“I know a club in the next town over. They have a fantastic DJ and the best drinks,” Jen said eagerly, biting her lip to try and not seem too fervent. Her excitement was a turn on for Regal. Like a predator, her high levels of adrenaline and arousal spiked his desire to hunt. He decided that his exhaustion could be ignored if it would land him another woman to win over.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Regal smiled as he stood up, lending his hand out for her.

“Oh,” she said suddenly. Regal could feel waves of anxiety rolling off of her. “You are twenty-one, right? I don’t want to rob the cradle or drag a kid out to a club when they shouldn’t be there...”

I wonder why that is? Regal thought. Worried that past mistakes of fooling around with minors will come back to haunt you? He chuckled, pretending that he found her question funny. “I get that a lot. I may look young, but I am over the age of twenty-one,” he assured her. Much older, actually.

“Great,” she sighed with relief. She took his hand and got to her feet, masterfully balancing on her six-inch heels.

Discarding his drink in the nearest trash bin, Regal slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close. “Just lead the way, beautiful.”

Jen giggled again, her eyes dancing in the dim lighting. She was clearly flattered by the pet-name Regal gave her, and he could feel the energy sparking between them, building up rapidly. As she led him toward the front door, he began to plan his final night in Woodburn with this vixen.

A warm sensation washed over him. It was an unnatural feeling and it made his stomach churn. He paused and stared out the front window in surprise. Watching hard for a moment, he waited for the warmth that surrounded his body to fade. Instead, it came back even stronger as he caught sight of a thin man walking toward the diner. His face was hidden underneath his mop of blond hair that glistened under the “OPEN” sign in the window. Fixating his gaze on the stranger, Regal caught sight of glowing blue eyes.

Dammit, he’s here?

Regal turned around, holding tightly onto the woman in his arms for balance. He hissed under his breath with annoyance. Who would have thought he would think of searching for him in a place...