War of Hearts (True Immortality 1)

He nodded, satisfied. But then he frowned as he stared at her mouth. “Do you ever smile?”

She forced her mouth to curl at the corners.

Anthony smirked. “Not really what I was after.”

“I can smile and flirt with the best of them if it means bigger tips.”

Sensing her sincerity, he nodded. “Fine. We’ll give you a trial run. You start tomorrow. You can shadow Maja on the lunch shift and then you’re on your own for the dinner shift.”

Nodding, Thea asked, “What is the salary?”

He answered, and he lowballed her beyond what was even fair for her circumstances. Bastard. Still, she needed to make rent on the crappy apartment she’d just secured and hopefully her tips would more than make up for her new boss being an asshole.

He stood and Thea followed suit. Watching him rummage through a cupboard behind his desk, Thea dreaded the waitress work that awaited her. This urban life she led was so far from what she wanted deep inside, but she’d given up on the dream of having anything more a long time ago. All that mattered was surviving.

“Be here tomorrow at eleven thirty.” He turned and held out four items covered in thin plastic. “Your uniform. Two tank tops, two T-shirts. You can wear a skirt, jeans, or pants with it, just as long as it’s black. Skirts are preferred.”

Surprise, surprise. “I’ll wear jeans.” And she had no intention of wearing the tank tops, but he didn’t need to know that.

He sighed. “Maja will kill me for hiring the angry girl. Your only saving grace is you’re bloody gorgeous.”

Thea frowned. She didn’t consider herself angry. More like resolute, resigned, and older than her years. “I’m not angry.”

“Well, you’re something. Now out. I have things to do.”

Nice. “See you tomorrow.”

He didn’t answer and Thea made her way out into the busy restaurant. As she passed a waitress with long, dark blond hair, the young woman turned to her. “Did you get the job?” she asked with a Polish accent. It was easy to get by speaking English in Poland because most Polish people who worked in the tourist area had a a good grasp of the language.

Thea nodded.

The woman balanced her tray on one hand and held out the other. She smiled brightly. “I’m Zuzanna.”

Thea accepted the hand with a smile of her own. “Kate.” She used a different false name every time she moved country.

“When do you start?”

“Tomorrow. Lunch shift.”

Zuzanna smiled brighter. “I will see you tomorrow.”

Thea nodded and waved goodbye, reassured there would be at least one friendly face at her new job.

The train journey north to Kraków from Budapest had been a little over ten hours. Upon her arrival, she’d stayed in cheap hostels while she tried to find a landlord who would let her stay with none of the normal legalities. It put her in a shit position because it meant her landlord could turn her out anytime he pleased, but it was the only way. She couldn’t leave a paper trail. Although Thea had a talent for making people see what they wanted to see, she hated using that ability. It reminded her too much of what it felt like to be at the mercy of someone else. To feel invaded. To be stripped of what made you who you were.

The ability only worked on humans, unless they knew her weakness, and there were only a few humans in the world who did. She’d learned when coming up against a female werewolf Ashforth had forced her to engage with that the mind warp was useless against the wolf. Thea guessed it might be useless against other supernaturals too. That was fine by her.

She rarely used the ability as she stuck to countries within the Schengen visa agreement. These were the European countries who had mostly abolished internal border control so that tourists and visitors could move freely between them. It still required you to carry a passport, which Thea didn’t have, but there had been fewer than a handful of moments when she’d had to use the gift to trick border control into thinking she had the passport and Schengen visa.

Shrugging off memories she’d rather forget, Thea strolled along the narrow street and out onto the main square. The medieval Old Town was stunning, a feast of architectural delight, the most impressive of which was the towering red brick St. Mary’s Basilica and the blond and red sandstone market hall that stood center stage. Everywhere there was something to look at on the market hall, from the pillared archways with their hanging lanterns to the pillars themselves. If you looked closely, you could see faces with bulbous noses carved out of the stone.

Stalls selling artwork sprawled across the square while restaurants had set up outside eating areas along the perimeter. Inside the market hall, known as the Cloth Hall, Thea wandered past stall after stall, many selling the same items of Polish nesting dolls, amber jewelry, and tourist crap.