Wanted: Undead or Alive

A Lonely Crossroads

The interior of the shop dazzled the eye. Everything shone bright white beneath powerful incandescent bulbs. Teenaged employees in starched uniforms wore white disposable facemasks and white latex gloves. The total effect was a germophobe's Utopia. The coffee was only average, but I felt confident I wouldn't get sick from drinking it.

Nick and I sat at a table near the spotlessly clean front windows. I held a cup of hot black brew between my palms. He'd chosen not to get anything.

"I have a friend who owns a coffee shop. This kind of feels like cheating on him," I said.

"Is his shop around here?"

"No. It's on Verbena and Snyder."

"Well, that wouldn't have been a practical choice for a waiting place, would it?"

I sipped my coffee and refrained from commenting about how salamanders made him grouchy. "You told me to ask questions." 

"I did," he agreed.

Staring at the table made it easier to think. That fact seemed like as good a place as any to let the questions begin, but I thought I might actually, literally die from embarrassment if I admitted out loud that his superpower was turning me on and he replied he didn't have that kind of superpower. So, I started by asking why the salamanders came after him while ignoring me completely.

"Salamanders are attracted to fire, to heat. My natural temperature is higher than yours and electricity is akin to flame."

"And you're electrified?" The longer I stared at the table, the harder my brain tried to make sense of the miniscule golden dots on the white surface. One particular grouping looked a bit like an otter. Another reminded me of a soft serve ice cream cone.

"Something like that," he said.

What are you? What is the power you have over me? Are there others like you? I couldn't quite manage any of those. "The fairies said they couldn't hurt you."

"Their magic has little hold over me," he said. "To be fair, most magic has little hold over me, though I am susceptible to some, of course."

"But their protective spell nearly knocked you out."

"Sometimes my essence creates," he paused for a moment as if searching for the right word. "Echoes. At times, the reverberating magic becomes somewhat overwhelming. One the echoes fade, I'm able to return to my senses."

I forgot why I was staring at the table and accidentally made eye contact. He was leaning back in his seat with his hands in his lap. His eyes shone bright blue, but not supernatural in any way, just in a dang-he's-adorable kind of way.

"I find you a bit overwhelming." Did I mean to say that? I was pretty certain I hadn't. Maybe I'd hit my head and damaged the part of my brain that was in charge of the filter.

"I understand," he said. "Overwhelming you is not intentional."

My mother's lectures on manners had not adequately prepared me for this conversation. I gulped down some coffee, and it scalded my throat and made my eyes water.

While I gasped for air, Nick took control of the conversation. "I find it curious that the fairies assumed you wanted to make a deal with Sathanas."

"That's a thing, though, isn't it? Making a deal with the devil?"

Nick picked up a sugar packet and twirled it between his fingers. "Sure, but Sathanas isn't the devil."

"Don't demons work for the devil?"

He sighed as if disappointed in me. "You mustn't believe every myth you've ever heard if you're going to succeed in this job."

Fair enough. Bracing myself, I met his gaze again. "How am I supposed to know which ones are true and which are false?"