Heavenly scent, p.1
Heavenly Scent, page 1
Heavenly Scent
Heavenly Scent
Fay Smith
Fay Smith
Copyright © 2023 by Fay Smith
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Mihaly Cservenak: mihalij1982@gmail.com
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 979-8-9873348-4-3
First Printing, 2023
1
Eve
Eve hefted the full pot of coffee and wheeled around the counter to check on her tables. The dinner rush had already come and gone, so the diner was only half-full of patrons still eating, chatting, or stalling for time. The diner was old with fifties-style Formica tables, with chrome around the edges, which showed a lot of wear. The plastic-coated booth benches, which looked like the bench seats out of an old car, had been patched and were ragged. Those seats caused your legs to sweat in the summer and then stuck to you like duct tape when you rose too quickly to leave, leaving a throbbing burn on your thighs. This was like her second home, everything worn and familiar. She looked over her side of the dining area and counter and headed for the few individuals still drinking coffee to top them off.
She was working the night shift with Becky, the usual Sunday night routine. Becky was nice enough… but Eve just couldn’t connect with her as a friend, just like she couldn’t connect with most people. She had lived in this small Oklahoma town her whole life, yet she felt like an outsider and was just different. While the town didn’t feel like home, the diner was comfortable and familiar.
With all her tables checked and happy, Eve had only to wait, lost in her thoughts, until a customer would summon her again. This left her a lot of time to think. Too much time. Was she unhappy? No. She was, however, lonely. Her gaze swept over the room, taking in the small groups of friends and families conversing over their food.
Eve had lived in the small rural town all of her twenty-five years. She had graduated high school, gotten some online college courses, and worked a dead-end job at this old diner. This was the sum total of her short life. She had never been popular, always… different from other people her age. She couldn’t say how; besides her naturally indigo hair, she always felt odd. It was like she was on a different wavelength, which other people didn’t understand or want to.
She didn’t really have friends, not the way she saw other people with their friends. She had grown up without girlfriends to confide in or gossip with, and she wasn’t invited to parties or sleepovers. She learned early to enjoy her own company, so as an adult, she preferred the company of an interesting book to a boring local who only saw as far ahead as the next party on the weekend.
Her dating life had been just as deficient, which was not a hardship, as she was in no hurry to land a husband and start pumping out babies. Not before she had even really lived yet. She had dated a few of the guys in her town, but relationships never lasted long. The dating pool was small and stagnant. Sure, guys wanted to fuck her, but they didn’t want to bring her home to meet Mom; in some ways, that was ok with her. It’s not that she wanted a white-picket fence relationship… but it would have been nice to have someone see her that way.
She had dreams of leaving this tiny town one day. She had no idea where she would go or what she would do, but it had to be better than this. She glanced over the diner again, and one thing was for sure: there was no future here for her.
Damn these slow nights.
Eve blew her bangs out of her eyes in frustration. She was about to start cleaning behind the counter when the bell over the door announced another customer. Eve looked to the door and caught her breath. In walked three of the most drop-dead gorgeous men she had ever seen in this middle-of-nowhere town.
They were movie-star gorgeous. Panty-creaming. Hell, they might be angels if she believed in such things. They were… perfect. They were tall, with tight shirts spanned over muscular, toned, but not grotesquely huge, arms and chests. Equally impressive thighs and, dare she add asses, filled out their jeans very nicely as they moved into the room. They had rugged square jawlines, piercing eyes with unlawfully long lashes. Each had his own coloring, hairstyle, and differences, but as a whole, they were other-worldly. She realized she was staring but couldn’t drag her eyes away. She was stunned into inaction, frozen in place. She shook her head to clear it, finally moving her eyes away from the masculine walls of sex.
Her eyes flicked to Becky, who was unabashedly staring at them, wide-eyed, mouth open like a carp. This seemed to break the spell for Eve, who chuckled under her breath as the three newcomers headed to a booth in Becky’s section.
Oh well… Can’t win’em all.
Eve cursed under her breath and went back to collecting silverware and salt and pepper shakers; there was still work to do. Taking the lids off the salt shakers, she tried to focus on what she was cleaning, but her curiosity kept getting the better of her. This small backroads town didn’t get a lot of visitors, and certainly none who looked like those three.
She could imagine herself on a Hollywood movie set with them, sprawled in satin sheets while their hot-oiled bodies prowled around her… They were the fodder of fantasies.
She glanced over the top of the counter where she worked to see Becky already at their table, laying the flirt on thick as she placed menus and silverware, all but pouring herself onto the table with them. Eyelashes batted. Cheeks flushed. Becky made it a point to bend over low to point out the specials on the menu, showcasing her cleavage barely restrained in a red lacy bra, threatening to burst out of her low-cut shirt.
Eve chuckled at Becky’s antics until she noticed that one of the men facing her was looking right at her with a smirk. His eyes were… intense. And then it seemed like she was locked in his gaze, and nothing else existed. His smoldering looks took her in, and she felt vulnerable, exposed. Her former Hollywood fantasy rose to the forefront of her mind. It felt like… minutes? Seconds? She couldn’t tell. It was awkward and felt highly personal.
As the noise of the surroundings came rushing back, her cheeks flamed hot as if she had been caught doing something naughty, and she noted that Mr. Intense was still locked on her. She looked back down at her salt shaker, now filled to overflowing. Luckily it was behind the counter, where the stud-muffin couldn’t have seen it. She took a shaky breath as she began scooping salt, trying to distract herself and not look back at him. Even without looking, she could feel his eyes boring into her.
Really, Eve, are you a teenager? It’s not like you’ve never seen a good-looking guy!
Eve turned to clean her sponge in the sink and jumped, startled, when Becky was standing in the previously empty spot, practically on top of her. Throwing her hand over her charging heart, Eve laughed and started apologizing but trailed off as she noticed Becky was not quite right. Sure, she was still smiling, still perky, but her eyes… her eyes were wrong. She had a million-mile stare like she was sedated and just happy to be in her own world.
“Becky, you ok?” Eve ran her hand in front of Becky’s face.
“Yeah. Of course…. I’m fine.” Becky slowly brought her unfocused gaze to Eve’s face. “I think you should wait on eighteen.”
Becky reached past Eve, picked up the coffee pot, and headed back to the far side of her section, away from the newcomers, at table eighteen.
Alright, what the hell just happened?
It was not like Becky to give away a table; she needed her tips too. But to give up a table of three Greek Gods for NO reason?... No. Clearly, something was said, and Eve was not going to put up with it. She didn’t care if they were gods; no one harassed the staff. Working to keep her simmering rage from boiling over, Eve headed straight for the table in question. Three perfect masculine faces smiled up to receive her.
She got only a few steps away before she pulled to a sudden stop, confused.
Wait. Had she said god-like? Because up close they were, well, they were still good-looking, but not with the initial ‘stop traffic’ kind of looks she had thought they had. They were very handsome, but she wasn’t sure why she had reacted that way earlier, and she had only been a few feet away from them.
She looked from one to the next, confused, like she had just come to her senses.
And how had she not noticed their HAIR? Mr. Intense had dark purple hair, another had bright flaming red and another dark green. How had she missed THAT? Her own Indigo blue hair was the talk of the town; she was the only one that usually stood out.
They were still buff and beyond mouth-watering, but it was no longer like a scene out of a movie where heavenly light showered down over them, making the world stop at their appearance. Eve shook her head again to clear her distraction; she latched eyes with the man who had caught her attention earlier, Mr. Intense.
“What did you say to Becky?” She put enough growl into her voice to let them know she was not to be toyed with but not enough roar to bring the whole diner into a melee.
“We didn’t say anything, Darlin-” Before the man on her right even got the words out, Eve repeated herself to Mr. Intense, whose eyes she had never left.
“WHAT.DID.YOU.SAY.TO.BECKY?!”
His lips never moved, but the muscles around his eyes tensed for a moment, carrying so
“I think I understand…” he spoke to her slowly, intentionally, like she was a feral animal about to attack. “We didn’t say anything offensive, I swear. We just told her you should wait on us. That’s all.”
He put both hands up in surrender, his big slate blue-gray eyes twinkling up at her innocently.
“You expect me to believe--”
“I don’t expect anything. But it’s the truth. Ask her.”
As it happened, Becky was walking behind Eve at that moment, and the man on Eve’s right called her over and asked her to verify what Mr. Intense had said.
“Yeah. That’s what happened.” She smiled vacantly and skittered off.
“Then why is she acting stoned?” Eve fired back after Becky was out of earshot.
“You’d have to ask her about that, Love. Now, could we get some coffee?”
Mr. Intense smiled in what was probably supposed to appear a sweet way, but it only came across as gloating, his eyes laughing.
Why does this shit always happen on MY shift?
2
Tark
Tark spoke with his companions in their own language to be sure they weren’t being listened to. His glamor had done just what he expected; to everyone present, they appeared to be normal, if not highly virile, humans. Becky had been eating out of their hands. The plain waitress would have rubbed her crotch on them like a cat if she could have done so inconspicuously. Tark chuckled under his breath.
He watched the conversation between the waitresses from the corner of his eye. Eve: her name was Eve. Becky had given them that, although to be fair, she hadn’t had any choice. The added compulsion made humans do whatever they suggested, in addition to their altered appearance.
He eyed the women as they talked. Eve had the right features: the indigo blue hair that he was pretty sure was not dyed that color, sharp cheekbones, wide eyes that made her look very young, and a feline way of moving. And while she had the Fae litheness, she was definitely more curvy than your average Fae.
Not that he was complaining.
Those curves look good on her, and not everyone wants to fuck a twig.
Humans thought women should be rail-thin. Tark frowned; he could tell them they were wrong. He lived with fae women built like ballerinas, and it got old fast.
He’d love the opportunity to sink his fingers into lush hips, pull that full bottom against his hard length, and run his hands up that ribcage until he hefted the weight of each globe of a breast in his palms…
He had to subtly adjust his jeans and change his line of thinking, or he would be too distracted. He never got distracted by females, but she was really tempting him.
Get it together, Tark! You’re not an adolescent!
After a quick exchange of words, Becky swung the coffee away, and Eve headed toward their table with murder in her eyes. He tapped his fingers on the table to alert the others that she was on her way. It was all coming together.
They all turned to her, smiling in a friendly, human way. Tark waited for the glamor to affect her; instead, she appeared confused and distracted, looking from one of them to the other until finally bringing her heated gaze back to Tark with intention.
“What did you say to Becky?”
She was angry. A few patrons of the diner stopped, their heads swiveling to take in the conversation. Tark was taken aback, expecting the compulsion to bring her into submission. But he kept his features schooled.
Before he could answer, Lamn spoke up. “We didn’t say anything, Darlin-”
“WHAT.DID.YOU.SAY.TO.BECKY?!”
Her eyes never left Tark’s, and her words rolled with energy.
Definitely not just human. Also, the glamor wasn’t working on her: interesting.
“I think I understand…”
He quickly glanced at his companions, Lamn and Skiff, letting them know he would handle it. He turned his full attention back to the waitress, Eve.
“We didn’t say anything offensive, I swear. We just told her you should wait on us. That’s all.” He spoke clearly and calmly, hoping to regain control of the conversation.
She clearly didn’t believe him. Her arms were crossed over her chest, with her hip popped out to the side as she glared at him. He saw Becky headed back towards their side of the room and suggested asking her as Lamn reached out, summoning her over. And just as he knew she would, she verified everything he had said. Again, not like she had a choice in the matter.
Humans are so frail-minded.
From the corner of his eye, Tark saw Lamn’s green tresses fall subtly as he leaned in ever so subtly toward Eve and inhaled. Instantly Lamn tensed, his eyes widening and nostrils flaring. Tark noted it but said nothing, not until they were alone. She was still glaring at Tark and hadn’t noticed.
Eve was clearly stuck. With Becky backing the story, she would be rude to insist anything else had happened, but she clearly wasn’t ready to let it go. Tark closed the conversation quickly by ordering coffee for the three of them and then watched her head back to the counter, looking over her shoulder to scowl. He then switched to their native Faeish.
“Clearly not just human. The compulsion and glamor didn’t phase her, not even with the three of us powering it. I’m wondering if any of it worked.” Tark looked between his companions.
“No, she’s otherworldly, alright. Fae, and… something else.” Lamn’s eyebrows were knitted, and his fingers drummed the table. “I’ve smelt it a few times before, but very few. And I don’t know just what it is, but it’s rare. Of course, it’s hard to scent anything over soap, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, powder, deodorant, cooking grease, dishrags... oh, AND perfume. I don’t understand why human females feel the need to smell like a field of flowers and toxic chemicals.”
Tark and Skiff laughed in agreement as Eve returned with three cups of coffee, setting them down almost violently on the Formica.
“Would you like to order anything else?” She asked coldly, staring at her notepad.
Tark smiled, enjoying her frustration with them.
She’s so adorable when she’s angry.
“How about three apple crisps?”
“Ice cream?” She growled.
“Sure.” Tark tried his hardest to repress a chuckle; he knew it wouldn’t help his cause. But she was absolutely delicious when her brows knit together, and her eyes narrowed in anger. He was willing to bet she’d be ferocious in bed.
She was off again without a backward glance, and they resumed their conversation. Their informant from a few weeks prior was correct; she was a hybrid. They just didn’t know what kind yet. Still, it was fortunate their scouts found her first. There really weren’t many hybrids. They’d have to move quickly and get her to safety before she attracted more unwanted attention.
If Tark could find her, so could the Unseelie of the Winter Court, which would not end well for Eve.
3
Eve
Eve watched as the men at table eighteen drank their coffee and ordered desserts, and within forty-five minutes finished, paid, and left. Eve swooped in to clear the table immediately as if she could erase their presence from her mind. They left a ridiculously huge tip of $100 on a twenty-four dollar check for Eve, which she then split with Becky because it should have been Becky’s table. She would want Becky to do that for her… but then again, she never would have given up a table when the diner was so slow.
Becky seemed ambivalent: acknowledging the money, but still staring off into the distance.
A fifty-dollar tip and she doesn’t care?!
Eve watched as Becky cleaned absently, almost poured coffee on one patron’s hand, and just seemed out of it. Becky never seemed to snap out of whatever daze she was in. As closing approached Eve called Becky’s loser boyfriend to pick her up and take her home; she honestly didn’t want her driving in that state. Not surprisingly, Becky didn’t argue. Eve didn’t know what they had done to her, but she was sure those guys at table eighteen had done something.
