Chapter 1

One

"Atlas!" the barista called.

Gavin, Atlas thought, happy to have finally caught the cutie behind the counter on a day when he was wearing a name tag. Making his way to the counter, he tried to paste a pleasant look on his face. Gavin's blue eyes only widened a tiny bit as he approached.

"Atlas?" Gavin asked, setting the cup on the counter. The dim lights of the coffee shop made his blond hair shine gold. He couldn't be more than five and a half feet tall and slim enough he pulled his apron strings to the front to tie them. Atlas felt like a towering oaf next to him. Even with the counter between them.

"I'm Atlas." He reached for the cup.

"Have a nice night," Gavin said, already turning away to make the next drink.

Atlas watched him go. "You, too," he whispered before returning to the small table he'd claimed near the back. His phone buzzed in his pocket as soon as he sat down. Pulling it out, he sighed at the sight of his brother's name on the screen. Hitting accept, he put the phone to his ear and took a drink of his latte.

"How's your barista crush this evening?" Lark asked in lieu of a greeting.

Heat rushed to Atlas's cheeks. He grunted. "None of your business."

Lark laughed, the sound warm and comforting despite him being an asshole. "I hate to cut your drool session short, but the seers had a vision. They need us all in."

"I'm on my way." Atlas hung up, grabbed his latte, and stuffed his phone in the pocket of his leather jacket on the way out the door. He only paused for a moment once he hit the sidewalk, looking back into the shop at Gavin behind the counter. Maybe in another life he'd ask Gavin for his number, but in this one, Gavin was a normal human guy. Atlas was anything but.

Thankful he'd only ordered a small, Atlas tipped up his latte cup and sucked down the burning liquid with a wince. Moving toward where he'd parked his motorcycle down the street, he tossed the cup in the trash and waited at the crosswalk for the light to turn.

A revving engine caught his attention. Coming down the road toward him, several motorcycle headlights made him squint against their brightness. The lead biker flipped on his turn signal and coasted to a stop next to where Atlas was standing. The rest of the bikes drove on by.

"Derek," Atlas said, giving a single nod to the Hellhound Alpha. Derek was a big man—not as bulky as Atlas, few people were—but he had a presence that seemed to fill up the whole street.

Derek killed the engine and settled back in the seat, letting his hands rest on his thighs. "Atlas."

They stared at each other for a moment. This city, Solston, like most cities in the world, was a blend of the mundane human world and the paranormal one. The humans had their own government, and while the paranormals were expected to abide by human laws, they were also governed by the Paranormal Council of the city. The council worked in tandem with the humans to keep Solston's paranormal citizens in check, to protect the humans, but to also protect paranormals from humans.

Derek and his hellhounds were some of the council's main enforcers. They represented the demon presence in the city.

"Did you need something?"

"You hang out in this area a lot?" Derek tilted his head. He had inky black hair, pale blue eyes, and dark stubble on the square set of his jaw. One of his hands clenched into a fist, and Atlas wondered what he was really asking.

"I do." Atlas indicated the corner coffee shop. "That's my favorite coffee shop."

Derek inhaled, likely trying to parse the truth from Atlas's scent. After he stared for a few more seconds, he seemed to make a decision, and his posture relaxed…a little. "We've heard rumors that a paranormal hate group is plotting something in this area. Have you seen anything suspicious?"

Atlas frowned. Had he been so focused on Gavin that he missed something like that happening right under his nose? "No, I haven't. But I just got a call that one of the seers had another vision."

Derek nodded. "I'd appreciate a head's up if the target's in this area."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

"Good." Derek started up his bike—a hulking beast of a Harley—and rocketed off into the steady flow of evening traffic.

Atlas watched Derek's tail lights disappear before moving to his own bike. Once he was in the seat, he spared the coffeeshop—Gavin—one more glance. He needed to stop coming here. Gavin was a beautiful daydream. A beautiful human daydream. He allowed himself one solitary moment to mourn the death of that dream, then he gripped the throttle and turned his eyes toward the road ahead.

"Aww,your hunky lovebug didn't hang around this time?" Charlotte asked with a wink. She was standing at the espresso machine, getting ready to pour up the next customer's order.

Gavin frowned. "First, he's not my anything, and I'm guessing lovebug wouldn't be on the approved term of endearment list. Second?—"

"That was two already." Charlotte laughed, shooting him a grin over her shoulder. Her curly brown hair was putting up a valiant effort to escape the elastic band she'd used to put it up before they left their apartment. They'd been roommates for two years, best friends for longer.

"Second," he said again, raising his voice over her cackling. "He doesn't hang around. He drinks his coffee, and then he leaves."

Charlotte placed the order she'd finished on the pick-up counter, shouting the customer's name before turning back to Gavin. "He orders a tiny latte, sits with his back to the wall, and stares at you while he drinks it."

Scrunching his brows, Gavin moved to the sanitizer bucket and pulled the towel out of it, wringing out the excess liquid. "He doesn't stare," he grumbled as he started to wipe down their work area. They'd had a steady stream of customers this evening, but it was slowing down. That's one of the reasons he liked the evening shift better than the morning. Not only was he absolutely not a morning person, but the evenings in the coffee shop were much more laid back than the crazy rush of people trying to get their caffeine fix before they headed to work in the mornings.

"I wonder what kind of shifter he is," Charlotte said, refilling the cups and lids from the stock they kept below the counter.

Gavin stood up straight, towel dangling from his hand. Secretly, he'd wondered if Atlas was paranormal, but he hadn't said it out loud. Not even to Charlotte. "You think he is?"

She shot him a side-eyed look. "He definitely is." She lowered her voice a bit. "I just can't tell what exactly."

As far as Gavin knew, no one else at the coffee shop knew Charlotte was a witch. In her own words, she wasn't uber badass or anything, but she did always have a sense about things that had proved true, time and time again. "And you don't think he's dangerous or anything, right?"

Charlotte stopped what she was doing and glared at him.

He cringed. "Sorry. That was rude. I'm sorry. I just…he does stare sometimes."

"I'll forgive you just because I know you're not actually an ass." She tilted her head, obviously thinking through her words. "He is dangerous."

Gavin frowned. He knew that somehow. He'd felt all kinds of things when Atlas was there and looking at him, but in danger had never been one of them.

"Not to you," Charlotte said, quickly, catching the look on his face. "Or me." She huffed. "Let me start over. He's good. Righteous. But he's also dangerous. I wouldn't be surprised if he's a cop or works for the Paranormal Council." She shrugged. "He just has that feel."

Gavin could imagine that. What he couldn't imagine was why the giant, apparently dangerous man was interested in him. Rolling his eyes at himself, he went back to wiping the counter. Who said that Atlas was interested in him? Maybe he thought Gavin looked shady and needed to be checked up on.

The bell above the door rang, and Gavin looked up. A man he'd never seen before approached the counter. He was stocky with light red hair and matching scruff on his face. Charlotte called out a greeting, but the man ignored her, never looking away from Gavin.

He dropped the towel he'd been using back in the bucket and walked toward the register. The man watched him every step of the way.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

Pursing his lips, the man glanced at the menu but immediately brought his gaze back to Gavin. "Coffee. Black."

"Sure." Gavin rang up the coffee and took the bill the stranger handed him. All the while feeling the burn of the man's eyes on him. It didn't feel the same as when Atlas looked at him—friendly, appreciative. He imagined this must be what it felt like to know someone was looking at you through crosshairs.

Charlotte poured the man's coffee and set the cup on the pick-up counter.

The man picked it up, never once looking anywhere but at Gavin, and moved toward the door. Gavin breathed a sigh of relief when the man finally turned and reached out to push the door open, but before he stepped out, he looked over his shoulder. "Thanks, Gavin. I'll definitely be back."

The hair on the back of Gavin's neck stood up. Atlas may have been dangerous, but this man—who hadn't actually done a damn thing—was terrifying.