Meet Me by Dawn (By Dawn series book 1) ✓

Chapter 3

Edited

I woke up to the sound of a crow and sunlight streaming in through the framed doors. I sat up in bed, surveying the empty bedroom with only a single mattress in the middle of the floor. The black bird that had awakened me from a merciless nightmare sat on the railing, cocking its head to the side, staring back at me with one eye. I wished I had something to offer it; I had heard that befriending a crow could bring back treasure. This reminded me that I had no food in my fridge, and cooking was not my strong suit—usually, Jenny or someone else handled that.

I got dressed after checking the weather, opting for a checkered blue skirt and a high-neck black t-shirt. On my way out, I slipped into my biker boots, more out of convenience than necessity since it was rather warm outside. Before leaving, I stared at the kitchen for a few minutes, debating which shade of green would go best with it.

I parked my Impala outside a coffeehouse, hoping they served some type of breakfast this late, as it was already twelve, and I had slept in for far too long. The aroma of food, coffee, and pastries enveloped the café, along with a faint hum of conversation, even though there were only five guests. A friendly blond man took my order, and I settled by the large open windows, gazing at the bustling street. I noticed a hardware store down the alley - perfect.

As a waitress placed my black coffee on the table alongside a freshly baked croissant and a bowl of yogurt and fruit, I reached into my purse for my phone to snap a picture for Jenny, just to let her know I was still alive and kicking. Dark Falls had initially given me chills and creeps, but now, in the daytime, with the streets teeming with people and light, it felt like a cozy small town that I knew I was going to fall in love with.

After finishing my meal, I checked the hardware store's opening hours on the internet to avoid any unpleasant surprises. Despite being a badass assassin, I hated arriving somewhere only to find the door closed or, worse, walking right into a locked door.

Cars passed by slowly, and a group of students, as I assumed from their appearance, strolled the streets. A tall blonde woman led them, animatedly pointing out various old buildings. I detected a few accents that sounded like Londoners, like me, and even a Spanish one. Dark Falls University seemed to attract students from all over. The university even had accommodations for students who needed a place to stay, in one of the connecting buildings. Or else, one could rent rooms in houses in town with other students, I did look into that option, but I found I liked my privacy. Not that the Madame would ever let us mingle with the mundane, unless we really had to blend in. The semester was set to start in a few weeks, and it appeared that most had already arrived.

I patted the trunk of my Impala as I parked it on the other side of the street from the hardware store. I scowled at the conspicuous scrape on my car, which I likely deserved after an encounter at a gas station on my way out of London. The guy had been bald, old, and obnoxious. He had initially yelled something like, "Hey, nice legs!" when I was filling my car with gas, and then at the register, he continued with more inappropriate comments. I eventually told him that I wasn't attracted to ugly bald men with big bellies, which had the cashier breaking into laughter. I regretted the last remark; I didn't typically insult people's appearances. However, it had slipped out. Although me telling him off didn't work, it ended up in me beating him to a bloody nose, he left the gas station crawling out the door. When I left after reassuring the cashier everything was fine, his truck was gone, and I had been treated to a large, bloody scrape on my car. What a bastard.

I perused the wall of paint samples as I entered the hardware store. Upon arrival, the place had an eerie silence, and there was no one at the counter. I took it upon myself to start browsing, running my index finger over the labels in search of a specific shade of green—Juniper. To read the tiny writing, I had to tiptoe and crane my neck.

"Why does it have to be so small?" I grumbled to myself in frustration, too engrossed in my task to notice someone approaching me.

"Do you need some help?" A deep, masculine voice, tinged with amusement, reached my ears, and I suddenly realized he was standing unusually close. I looked up to meet a pair of striking ocean-blue eyes. My attention then wandered to his tousled dark brown hair and bronzed complexion. He sported a snug black t-shirt that accentuated his muscular upper body and robust arms. To match his leather boots, he had opted for black jeans.

A biker by night, a hardware worker by day?

A faint smile played on his full lips as I eyed him from head to toe, suddenly aware of my frowning expression and the fact that I had forgotten to answer his question.

"Juniper green," I mumbled. It had been a long time since a guy had left me feeling dazed like this, not since... I refused to think about him. What a bastard.

His bright eyes did a little dance across my face, then mirrored my expression and frowned slightly. His gaze dropped to my lips, then further down, ending with my own pair of biker boots. And that had been an unwise choice; I was already sweating. He loomed closer, locking his eyes with mine as he reached up and handed me a paper sample of Juniper green, then smiled wider. Smooth. I wanted to roll my eyes. I snapped it from between his fingers and looked up at him again. "Thank you...?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Atticus Emerson," he introduced himself, and right then I realized he had a weird accent, a bit washed-out French, or Italian? I couldn't place it. "Are you new to town, a student perhaps?" He gave me his hand. I took it, and it was warm and soft.

"Emilia Dandelion," I introduced myself with my false name. I started with a D, which was close to my actual last name, which was Day, and other than that, I loved dandelions. "And yes, I'm a new student in town." He smiled again, and it seemed like something about me amused him. I became very self-aware. I already hated it, and I swore to myself to never have a conversation with this man again, if it was possible.

"Alright, thank you," I tried to walk past him, but he hit me with another question.

"And what do you, Emilia Dandelion, plan to study?" I halted my step and found I couldn't keep my eyes from him, and he kept smiling and staring back at me. It was something about his eyes, something... A chill went down my spine.

I cleared my throat and replied, "Literature."

"Ah," he said as if he knew something I didn't. "Lucky you," he sounded ironic, and I decided I didn't want to know or keep up this conversation.

"Thank you," I replied. "And thank you for your excellent help, Atticus Emerson." I looked him straight in those very blue eyes, which earned me a slight nod. I turned on my heel, and he let me move on in the store. 

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