Tick. Tick. Tick.

Don't look. Don't you freaking look...I glance over at the clock above the fountain drinks. 10:30. Ugh. The lights flicker and half of them fade out. Fantastic. I groan and rest my head on the register. The door dings and I shoot up. There's a tall hooded figure exploring the candy aisle. "Is there anything I can help you with, sir?" The figure jumps and nearly falls over. I fight back a giggle.

He approaches the counter. Man, he's really bundled. Work boots, a leather jacket over top his hoodie, baggy grey sweatpants, gloves. Boy, it's like 90 degrees what are you doing? He says something but it's muffled through the scarf covering his mouth.

"Excuse me, can you?" I gesture for him to move the scarf. He looks out the window and rolls his shoulders. He lowers the scarf. Despite the dark, the two massive fangs jutting from his lower jaw are readily apparent.

"Do you...do you guys have any more Valentine's stuff? I know I'm a month late but…" He sounds about my age but he barely looks my species.

Don't stare. Don't stare. I cough and look down at the register. "We might have some plastic flowers back by the newspapers."

"Thank you. Oh, I'm James by the way. My friends call me Jim." He extends his hand over the counter. I take it hesitantly. Great, so I'm on a first-time basis with a freaking werewolf. That's fun. No. No. Don't be mean. He's not a monster. He's just...a lil' scary looking.

"Can I have my hand back now?" I ask somewhat jokingly. This guy's got a grip. As he pulls away I notice the missing pinky. What in the- nope. Stop judging. He probably lost it in an accident. We laugh uncomfortably. He nods and hurries away to check the newspapers. As he leaves my sight, I slap my hand over my mouth. Oh my god. What is this guy?

The door dings again but this time it's a middle-aged man. His dirty blond hair peaks through his mangled beanie hat. He's even more underdressed than James. I mean, crocs? Really? He coughs into his hand and approaches the counter. He leans a little too close.

"Your manager here?" His breath smells like cigarettes and his gravely voice reflects the habit.

"She's on her meal break right now but, uh-" Shouldn't have said that. Should not have said that. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

He looks around the store. James is hidden behind the pastry shelf so I don't think he's seen. The man pulls his left hand out of his pocket to reveal the handle of a hunting knife. My breath gets caught in my throat. It's okay. It's okay. I've been told plenty of times what to do in this situation. I subconsciously look over at the camera. Or where it should be. Where's the camera? Oh god. I'm going to die and nobody will ever know who did it. No. I'm okay. I'm okay. Breathe. I look back at him and nod in understanding. I open the cash drawer and empty it into a shopping bag. I'm okay. I'm okay. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe like a normal human. I need my inhaler. Oh my god. I can't breathe.

I reach in my pocket to get the inhaler out. "Hey!" The man shouts and holds the blade inches from my jugular. "Don't you go tryin' somethin'."

"I…can't...breathe." I sob, tears burning my eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" Oh no. No no no. James taps the man on the shoulder and the knife turns on him. He's entirely unfazed. "That was a rhetorical question. I know what you're doing. I want you to stop." What is he doing? What is he doing?

"Alright, on your stomach now!" Still unfazed. "Now!"

"Please don't!" I reach forward and I overstep the robber's bounds.

"You get back there!" The man shoves me back across the counter. I yelp and hit the tobacco stand behind me.

A low growl echoes through the store. James clasps his hand around the blade. Hard. Blood trickles to the floor but he doesn't flinch. "You should close your eyes... Please. You don't wanna see this."

No, I really really don't. I put my hands over my eyes. Blue light makes its way through the gaps in my fingers. I hit the ground as the knife goes flying over the counter. Snarls and pained cries ring in my ears. Shelves are thrown over as I take a pump from my inhaler. By the time I catch my breath, silence. There's another blue flash of light as I peek over the counter.

The robber is lying, I think unconscious, on the floor with James standing over him. His hoodie is ripped away to show the horns protruding from his head. His pointed ears twitch and he turns to look at me. I don't speak or move. His slit red eyes soften and fade into a sky blue.

"What are you, James?"

"It's Jim. Actually." He laughs nervously. " And I guess I have some explaining to do. I'm-"

I hold up my finger. "You know what? I don't want to know what." I toss him a Hershey's bar. "It's on me. Chocolate's sorta Valentinesy."

"Thanks but what about...you know?" He gestures to the robber.

"Take him. As long as you're not going to, like, eat him or anything...Are you?"

"No! I'll just tie him up and drop him at the police station." He rubs the back of his neck with his four-fingered hand. "I'll set the cameras back up, I promise."

"That's fine. It's fine. After this, we'll get better ones anyway. Were the lights you too?"

He nods. "Sometimes the amulet messes with electronics." He stuffs a hunk of metal back into his jacket pocket. I'm not even gonna ask. "So you won't tell?"

"I won't."

"Thank you." James nods and drags the robber's limp body out the door.

I exhale and collapse to my knees. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I wipe clean my teary eyes.

I glance at the clock above the fountain drinks. 10:31.

Tick. Tick. Tick.