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them surrounding me with the heavy scent of testosterone
that made it hard for me to think straight.
    Peter kept
looking at me as if he were waiting for me to burst into flames.
When nothing untoward happened to me in daylight, he moved on to
glaring at complete strangers. Suspicion darkened his
eyes—everything he thought he knew about vampires had been proven
wrong by me, as far as he was concerned.
    “I’m the only one
who does this,” I said, trying to reassure him. I got a scowl for
my trouble. Carl bumped against him, getting between us and making
me hide a smile.
    “Who is this
contact of yours?” I asked Peter, trying to make
conversation.
    “A businessman,”
he said, without looking around. “He knows a lot about...
supernatural things. He’s helped me out a few times.”
    The bookshop
wasn’t too far from my house. I realised I had passed it by before.
It was an independent seller with lots of old books, specializing
in the occult. The shop had very few customers, yet it seemed to
thrive. It had been around for as long as I could remember, but I
had never gone inside.
    As soon as we
stepped through the doorway, I felt the power in the air. It
emanated from a man standing at the counter and ran right through
me, making me shiver. Peter hadn’t told me the man knew about
supernatural things because he was one himself. It surprised me
that Peter was comfortable with any supernatural element—he was so
intent on hating me.
    I didn’t say
anything, but I suspected the man was a big player in the
supernatural world, and that intrigued me. You wouldn’t have known
it looking at him. He was small and wiry, with a crooked nose,
ginger hair and lots of freckles. He had huge blue eyes that seemed
so earnest, I might have felt safe in his shop—except for the
strange cold sensation on my skin.
    The shop itself
was small; most of the books were old, and the most interesting
thing in the place was the owner. To my surprise, Carl took a step
behind me and gripped my arm. I wondered if he felt something in
the air too, but Peter moved toward his contact with a friendly
smile on his face and distracted me from Carl’s
reaction.
    The man smelled
like magic and strength to me, similar to the smoky smell when a
lit match is blown out mingled with the sharp, salty tang of the
sea. Goose bumps appeared on my arms as the man looked me over.
Something seemed to push against my skin, an invisible hand
searching for something.
    He greeted Peter
like an old friend and then looked at me again, this time with a
huge grin. My skin warmed up as whatever it was backed away. I
smiled back at the man, determined to show I hadn’t noticed a
thing. Playing dumb was just about the only card I had.
    “This is Eddie
Brogan. He might be able to help you,” Peter said, but his voice
sounded almost forced.
    “Oh, with what?”
Eddie asked, his voice lilting pleasantly.
    “Eddie, this is
Ava. She’s a vampire. She’s here to ask you for help.” Peter really
enjoyed delivering that line, and I fidgeted nervously in the
silence that followed.
    Eddie’s eyes
snapped back to me, narrowing as he looked me over once
again.
    “A vampire in
daylight, Peter?”
    “I know. She
isn’t talking.” Peter scowled in my direction, but Eddie stepped
closer to me, his eyes full of curiosity.
    “You look too
young to have been dead for at least a century,” he
remarked.
    “I haven’t been,”
I blurted out, confused.
    “Isn’t that
funny? Considering humans haven’t turned into vampires in at least
that long.” His voice was soft, but I felt like I had been tricked
into revealing something I shouldn’t. “Your name’s Ava, is it?”
Eddie asked me, not unkindly.
    I nodded, feeling
like a shy schoolgirl all of a sudden. “This is Carl,” I said,
gesturing toward the tall man who hadn’t moved an inch from my side
since we entered the shop. “I, uh, I seem to have accidentally made
him my... minion. Somehow.” I honestly couldn’t