Chapter 2.

Iris.

Silvaton Ridge, Colorado. Next day…

Completely exhausted. My head pounds heavily. My legs feel like jelly. They aren't my legs anymore.

My clothes are soaked through, cold rain seeping past my worn out jacket, clinging to my skin like ice. I’ve been on that damn bus for a little more than twenty-four hours, rattling through states, watching fog creep across the windows like a ghost.

Now I’m here. Finally. Silvaton Ridge.

A sign swings above the tiny bus stop, and just beyond it, a lone splash of color in this washed-out gray world. Dinah’s Diner. Flashing neon in pink and blue hums against the rain, casting warped reflections in the puddles at my feet.

I squint at my phone. 8:15 p.m. Battery completely low.

I left last night. It feels like I left ages ago.

Thunder cracks above me as I stumble across the street, dodging muddy potholes. The diner glows warm and bright, like something out of a postcard. I push open the door. A bell jingles overhead.

Inside, it's like I’ve stepped into another world, dry, golden, humming with warmth. The smell of grilled meat and coffee wraps around me like a blanket. A jukebox in the corner plays some slow, dreamy country song. My breath fogs up as it leaves my lungs.

There’s only one person inside the diner.

A woman behind the counter, curvy, blonde, mid-fifties maybe, turns toward me with a kind smile. Her eyes widen as she takes me in.

“Oh honey,” she says, voice soft with affectionate warmth. “Look at you, soaked to the bone.”

She grabs a mug and pours steaming black coffee, then places it on the counter without asking.

I take it with shaking fingers. “Thank you,” I murmur, my voice barely audible.

“It’s no trouble, sugar. I’m Dinah.” Her smile falters slightly. “Not many new folks roll into Silvaton Ridge this time of year. Roads are a mess with the rain. You drivin’ through?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m, uh… staying.” I don’t offer more. I don’t have more to offer.

She hums thoughtfully and heads into the kitchen, returning moments later with a plate. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a little side salad.

“I was about to have dinner before closing up,” she says gently, sliding the plate toward me. A smile on her face. “But looks like you need it more.”

“Oh, I can’t…” I start, but a loud jingle cuts me off. The bell above the door rings again.

“Well, well, well… If it ain’t Dinah,” a cold, sardonic voice calls loudly.

Three men walk in. Leather jackets. Slicked hair. Boots heavy against the floor. Mud staining the floor. Their laughter slices through the air like a blade. I go rigid.

Dinah’s smile vanishes. Her face goes pale.

I grip the coffee cup tighter.

The tallest one, wiry, pale, with sunken cheeks, steps forward. “Didn’t we tell you no opening after eight, Dinah?”

“Josh…” Dinah’s voice trembles. Her hand slides under the counter. “Please, I wasn’t serving. I was just…she just came in. She’s new. I…”

He cuts her off with a sneer. “We Vampires need to hunt, Dinah. That’s the rule. Humans ain’t supposed to be out past the stipulated curfew. And yet…” His eyes flick to me. “Here she is.”

The second man, thick neck, broken nose, leans in close to me. I catch the scent of rust and ash on him. He sniffs me.

My stomach turns. I jerk away instinctively, my heart thundering.

“Mmm,” he preys. “Fresh. Real fresh.”

I freeze. My blood runs cold.

I’ve heard about towns like this. Hidden pockets where the old rules hold fast. Where vampires and Werewolves still rule the shadows, and humans are watched like fresh cattle. In New York, we have codes, boundaries. Don’t talk to them. Don’t look them in the eye. Keep your head down.

But I walked right into their territory.

“What’ve you gotten yourself into, Iris?” I whisper.

Josh steps closer. His eyes are dark. Empty. Menacing. “Hey Denis,” he calls over his shoulder, voice dripping with amusement. “What d’you say we eat this one up for dinner?”

“No,” Dinah snaps suddenly, louder. Her hand stays under the counter. She looks between the men and me. “Leave the girl. She don’t know our rules.”

Josh’s lip curls. “Then she’ll learn.”

Denis, bigger, slower, starts toward me. I stagger back a step, legs trembling. The rain still pounds against the windows. There’s no one outside. No help coming.

“Don’t,” I whisper, barely managing to keep the panic out of my voice. “I’ll leave. I’ll walk back to the stop.”

“In the rain?” the third one laughs. “There’s wolves out too, sweetheart. Not safe out there.”

His words send a fresh spike of fear through me. Wolves? Like werewolves, werewolves?

Josh takes another step, slow and deliberate. “She’s got that look, doesn’t she? The runaway kind. No one’s coming for her.”

I swallow hard.

Dinah’s voice is sharp now. “That’s enough, Josh. This is still my diner.”

Josh doesn’t blink. “Not after tonight.”