Anomaly
Victoria knew hunger well.
The kind that clawed at the edges of her restraint, that turned every heartbeat into a siren call. The kind that made the world sharper, clearer, more fragile.
She had fed tonight.
Her eyes, once dark with deprivation, had returned to their usual gold, steady and controlled. Her movements were fluid again, her mind sharp. And yet, as she stepped into the gas station for the second time in a week, she felt something unfamiliar.
Anticipation.
The bell chimed softly as the door swung shut behind her, the artificial glow of fluorescent lights washing over her. The scent of gasoline, stale coffee, and something faintly sweet—cigarette smoke clinging to warm skin—greeted her.
There.
Behind the counter, Ashur was leaning on their elbow, absently flipping through a magazine, gold rings catching the light. Their green eyes flicked up at the sound of her entrance, and their lips curled into something wry, sharp.
"You again."
A small smirk ghosted across Victoria’s lips. She stepped forward, hands tucked casually into the pockets of her EMT uniform.
Ashur’s gaze flickered over it. "Oh, so you’re employed. And here I thought you just lurked in shadows, being cryptic for a living."
Victoria let out a quiet hum—almost a laugh. "I find I can do both."
She could hear the soft hum of Ashur’s mind—or rather, the absence of it.
It was unsettling.
She could always hear them—thoughts, fleeting and tangled, like radio static just out of tune. She had learned to tune them out, to drown out the endless noise of humanity.
But Ashur was silent.
Not shielded, not blurred—just empty.
It made them unreadable. Unpredictable.
It made them fascinating.
"Didn’t peg you for a paramedic," Ashur mused, tapping their rings against the counter. "You don’t exactly give off heroic first responder energy."
Victoria tilted her head. "What energy do I give off?"
Ashur narrowed their eyes slightly, studying her. "Hm. Wealthy and emotionally unavailable."
Victoria let out a soft chuckle. "Fair assessment."
She leaned forward slightly, just enough to make Ashur notice, to close the space between them by inches. She could hear the shift in their heartbeat—not fear, not discomfort, but something keen-edged and aware.
"Victoria."
Ashur blinked. "What?"
"My name," she said smoothly. "Since I suspect you’ll be seeing me again."
Ashur arched a brow, but their lips curled into something almost intrigued. "Bold of you to assume."
Victoria’s smirk deepened. "Is it?"
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of the coolers, the flickering light above, the distant roll of thunder outside—it all seemed distant.
Then Ashur let out a soft scoff, shaking their head. "Fine. Victoria. Do you need anything, or are we just making this a routine now?"
Victoria glanced at the shelves as if considering, before plucking a pack of gum from a nearby rack and setting it down between them.
Ashur stared at it, then back at her.
"Gum? That’s what you came in for?"
Victoria held their gaze, letting the silence stretch. "Maybe."
Ashur exhaled sharply, ringing up the purchase. "I don’t know what your deal is, Victoria, but you’re the weirdest rich person I’ve ever met."
Victoria took the gum, slipping it into her pocket.
"Good," she murmured, then turned toward the door.
She could feel Ashur’s gaze on her as she left, lingering like a touch.
Yes.
They would be seeing each other again.
And for once, Victoria wasn’t sure who was hunting whom.