Open for Business | (Open)

[Benjamin Ellis (DELETED 12378)]

---

The tea by his elbow had grown cold, but still, he did not look up. His eyes were transfixed upon the page, had been for hours; each word held him captive and yet forced him forward as he devoured the next, and the next, and the next. Over and over he breathed in the knowledge bound on sheets of stained yellow. He could happily spend his life here, embraced in the comfort of his favourite chair, and with a good book upon his knee. Alas, it was not to be so.

Above the door a soft tinkle of bells sounded, followed quickly by the stamping of feet upon the worn rug he couldn’t bare to part with. “Excuse me, I’m looking for a book...” of course, of course, the person traipsing into his sanctuary was a young honey-blond haired man. He should have turned the sign to ‘Closed’.

“One moment my dear, just finishing the paragraph,” it was hard to keep his voice upbeat, but it was expected of the friendly figure he portrayed himself as. If only these sweet young people knew the truth. If only they saw him when no one else was around. Too bad, they couldn’t.

Slowly he placed a leather bookmark between pages 200 and 201, then with a snap closed the book completely. “So, my dear boy! What book is it you are after tonight?” There, that should do the trick. The young man returned his shy quirk of the lips and moved forward to enter his space. It nearly always worked on these naive college children. A quick flash of a benign smile on the face of a slightly podgy gentleman in his fifties, and they easily marked him as – safe, which of course to them he was. He had no interest in these young barely adults. He simply wanted to sit in his bookshop and read, was it really too much to ask for? Apparently so.

The young man with the honey-blond hair took out a slip of paper and handed it over. “I need this.” On the paper was the title Making Up the Mind: How the Brain Creates Our Mental World. Blackwell, 2007 scrawled in the messiest handwriting he had seen outside of Oxford. “You got it?” he looked up from the paper and gave the young man a nod before walking off to go find the book. The quicker he got the man out of his shop the better.

“It should be around here somewhere, do look over the other books and see if there is something you would like.” Determined to find the book quickly he went over to his Rolodex of index cards, he never had got his filing system down; after a quick scan, he eventually found the card he was looking for and headed off to the correct shelf. “Ah ha! Knew I had the blighter.” He plucked the book from the shelf and headed back to the other occupant of the shop.

During his absence, the young man had managed to get a hold of one of his first editions, and he wasn’t wearing the cotton gloves! “Here you are, if I could just take that…” quick as a flash he used his handkerchief to cover his fingers as he snatched the book from the man’s hands. “Sorry, this is a rather valuable book, rather not get finger grease all over it. Do hope you understand.” Carefully he placed the book back on the desk it had been laying upon and handed the man the book he had been searching for.

“Sorry mate, didn’t know it was expensive…” of course he understood that the young man didn’t realise the value of something that had outlived five generations of the same family, but still he felt his eye twitch and the fingers of his right-hand tap against his thigh as he gave a tight-lipped smile.

“No bother, no harm was done.” He motioned for the other to follow him to the counter. “Let’s get you rung up and on your way.” The man followed and handed over the book to be scanned. “That will be ten dollars,” he hated that he had to used Canadian money – he missed the pound. Quick as could be the man handed over the note and took back his book, and with a wave he left.

The shop was silent once more, and Benjamin King was pleased to finally have his store to himself. “Back to my darling.” There was more of a skip in his step as he headed back to the comfort of his ancient flowery armchair. Easing down he picked up his book once more and sighed…

The trouble is, the sign on the door still read...

Open for Business

[Zodiac]

”Well. This is new.”

She stood and inspected the door to the shop for a moment. It was open. This time of night could mean another night feeder working away. The girl peered into the window to get an idea of his or her wares. It certainly seemed organized and her eyes lit up when she spotted what could be more original tomes on a desk. A new shop that no one had told her about. She imagined she would have to bop a few heads later. The community's growth and welfare was a thing of importance to her.

”Well, I suppose it can’t hurt.” she decided. She was still dressed for ‘work’ looking like something from a bad B movie filled with colorful gypsy dancers and occultists. ”Always nice to make new people blink a bit.” Besides, she enjoyed visiting new shops, and considering what she had gone through with her own business venture back in the day, it never hurt to help the new ones along. It was a good sign. So many were locking their doors and leaving town due to more local ‘issues’ it was nice to see someone taking a chance.

She opened the door carefully. Odds were there was some kind of bell or chime to announce visitors. She was not sneaking in for any nefarious purpose at all. She wanted to get the ‘vibe’ of the place and suddenly having a sales person in your face tended to ruin that first moment. Vibes were important. She had gone into run down, hole in the wall establishments that felt like home while avoiding newer places that were perfection and spotless. The vibe told a lot about who worked the place and what was really going on within. Maybe it was legit or perhaps there was a meth lab working away in the back-who knew? That was all she needed. Be in a place just when the cops decided to raid the joint. She had enough of the police looking into her business.

She glanced up and saw the bells. So continued to ease the door open till she could slip inside. Patience rewarded her as she eased the door back shut with a gentle click. She then settled her feet on the entry mat and closed her eyes as she took a deep inhale of the air around her.

”Ahhhhh,” her thoughts smiled as the scent of books filled her. There were indeed some older ones here. Very little hints of decay or moldering to found. The place also smelled clean, which suggested to owner took care of his place and the treasure trove inside of it. A faint scent of tea ticked her nose as well and not one hint of drugs to be smelled. ”A very nice vibe,” she decided as she opened her eyes again. Now would the owner be nice was an entirely different matter.

She wiped her feet carefully, then reached up to ring the bells with her fingertips. She then stood in place with her hands folded together with a soft smile on her lips as she waited.

[Benjamin Ellis (DELETED 12378)]

The shop, just like its owner, carried with it the continued scent of parchment and tea. Every corner held a collection of leather-bound masterpieces, and even the tables set in the middle boasted a few of the modern worlds works of art. There was love here, it radiated from the well-worn shelves where not a single speck of dust could be found, it danced across the jars of tea leaves where they were proudly displayed behind the counter. Benjamin had strived to make this a place where he could find sanctuary in the dark nights.

There were no fluorescent lights in the room, only the soft glow from low watt eco-friendly lightbulbs that hung from the ceiling naked and free from the constraints of a lampshade. By the windows were two red chaise lounges, it is the only area free from books – sunlight being what it was, Benjamin had made sure that not a single strip of it could find his darlings. It was a place designed with relaxation in mind, somewhere that Benjamin could look out at the city and reminisce about his blessed England. It was not a place for customers, though Benjamin would never tell them this.

When the woman entered, she would have heard the drag of a bow across the strings of a violin, followed quickly by the gentle reverberating press of keys on a piano. With the departure of the young human, Benjamin had been resolved to let himself relax instead of simply devouring the words that spoke of forgotten lands and unnamed creatures. So, as soon as the man had left, Benjamin had dug out his gramophone and placed a record that had given him a sense of peace since he was a young boy trapped by priests and nuns.

Benjamin had never been overly aware of the world around him; it would be easy for someone to sneak into his shop and rob him blind. As the woman walked in, he did not move from the comfort of the well-worn armchair, though at one point he did reach for the delicate china cup that rested upon the ebony wood of his desk. His hazel eyes remained steadily affixed to the words that called up pictures of creation. “Oh…” he sighed with delight and turned a page, “my…” he gasped and placed a hand to his heart as he fought back a quiet sob. The place could fall around him and still, he would not have been any the wiser.

The gentle tinkle of the shops' bell could not dissuade him from his beloveds’ side. Though some part of him understood he had a shop to run – he simply could not pull his eyes away even as he stood and moved to the counter to speak with the new trespasser.

“Hello, you will need to excuse me – I can not for the life of me put this down,” he took a seat on the rickety old stool behind the counter and waved about the shop, “feel free to browse.” Even his voice seemed distracted, distanced by his travels into lands unknown. He really should know better.

[Zodiac]

“Hello, you will need to excuse me – I can not for the life of me put this down,” he took a seat on the rickety old stool behind the counter and waved about the shop, “feel free to browse.” Even his voice seemed distracted, distanced by his travels into lands unknown. He really should know better.

An eyebrow raised in surprise at the sound of the man’s voice. Was it naivety or simply a soul quite comfortable in their opinion of human nature? Either way, it was refreshing. She took a moment to look the man over as he sat with his eyes glued to whatever was on the pages her held in his hand. She also peered into his aura and saw she was right. One of us.

Finally convinced the man would offer no assistance in the immediate future, she began to drift around the shelves and tables. (”Shopping is so much easier when leg power is not involved,”) she jested to herself. She was impressed with what she was finding. No ‘Fifty Shades’ or Paranormal ‘romance’ books to be seen. There was fiction, but of a more refined sort. Some newer things as well but the place was lacking that modern pop art type of literature most people seemed to consume by the gallons.

She was in love.

She looked over a few shelves and frowned when she found Milton. It wasn’t that she felt his work was crap, it just gave her a headache trying to work her way thought it all. ‘Paradise Lost’ took her almost 2 years to read and she did not manage to retain a fourth of it. Byron, on the other hand, was better in her view.

She levitated a bit higher toward the B’s but stopped short when a particular D presented itself. She pulled the book down and opened it and almost squealed. A 1958 first run of ‘The Mask of Cthulhu’ by August Derleth from Arkham House. Why was this in the general books? Either the owner did not notice (and judging by the way he was neck deep into his book-that did not seem likely. Or did it?) or there was something wrong with it. She flipped through the pages and found no tears of damage to it besides age. She would have to ask the man if he knew the error with this one.

As she floated back down, another one caught her eye. ” "The Vampyre" ? How appropriate.” She pulled the volume by Polidori from its place. Unlike ‘Mask’ this was not a first edition, but it was an improvement over that stupid Kindle thing Jennifer had given her. It had its uses, but curled up by the fire on a cold night was not one of them.

She looked and saw the man still absorbed in his book, so she gently laid the two books on the far side of the counter and gravitated to the sofa. She sat, folded her legs into a lotus pose and hovered above the pillow as she pulled a note book from her purse. She began to glance through her ‘want lists’ and decided to give the man a challenge. If he had access to older literature, he might have the connections to find a few things to round out her more esoteric collection of tomes and grimores.

[Benjamin Ellis (DELETED 12378)]

Music Playing

Words he had read a million times or more seeped into his soul and took roost there. No matter how many times he read a work of art it always brought with it something new to learn. This particular book was a favorite of his, it was a dear friend that offered both comfort and fear in equal measure. It was a study on humanity, something that he still held a strong connection to – after all she had only just introduced him to this new world. It acted as a window into the minds of scientists at the forefront of moral grey area science. A masterpiece in science fiction.

---

“It is when suffering finds a voice and sets our nerves quivering that this pity comes troubling us.”
― H.G. Wells, The Island of Doctor Moreau

---

The woman was forgotten. Nothing mattered apart from taking another step into the world, not the customer, not the music (which by now had shifted into Mariage d’Amour, a personal favorite of his), the book was all he could see and all he wanted to see.

It was all rather common. His college chums use to laugh about it, how he could forget to eat for days if he had a good book in his hand, and it really was a wonder he managed to sell a single item most days. It was part of his ‘charm’, the strange bookseller who ignored you for hours and then offered you a book recommendation that hit you right in the heart. He was good at that, recommending a book that fits you to a ‘t’. In all honesty, it was probably how he managed to stay afloat back in London.

Another part of his ‘charm’ was how disorganized he was. A librarian would have a heart attack looking at his shelving system. While most works stayed in their alphabetical place, there were some that simply refused to stay put. He had a habit of moving works where they would ‘feel at peace’, it made his job as a seller harder, but at least his beloved darlings were in their correct place. There were many such books dotted about on the shelves for anyone with the inclination to go searching for them.

---

“There is, though I do not know how there is or why there is, a sense of infinite peace and protection in the glittering hosts of heaven.”
― H.G. Wells, The Island of Doctor Moreau

---

It was another twenty minutes before he could tear his eyes off the page, and when he did, he finally noticed her. She was sat (floating) upon the couch, the one most used when reflecting on his past. A silent presence that did not have him recoiling at the utter disregard of the majestic grace of the written word.

“Would you care for a cup of tea, my dear? I have most types of leaf, or if you prefer coffee, I am sure I can figure out the machine.” He placed his book down onto the counter, with a bookmark of course (he was not a monster) and headed out back towards the small apartment separated from the main shop by a curtain. Trusting fellow that he was he did not even leave the curtain open to watch the woman.

In the kitchenette, he pottered about getting the cups and teapot ready. Even if the woman did not want a cup of tea, he had the urge to have his fourth cup, and perhaps this time he would even get to finish it.[/font]

[Zodiac]

Before she could try and answer, the man vanished into the back of his shop. A curious individual, to be sure, but she still did not pick up a negative vibe from him. Eccentric might be a better word for him. Sadly, she could no longer partake, but the aroma was still a delight to enjoy. Especially when her other senses had been elevated by this quazi state between life and true death. She could probably detect every element within a cup sight unseen. She made a mental note to inform the curious man when he returned that her own shop offered custom blends. She pulled her phone out and texted her tea house requesting a ‘welcome’ basket of assorted blends be sent to the address she now sat in.

After she pressed SEND, she drifted to where the first editions sat on display. She saw the gloves and understood at once. It took her a few moments to remove all her rings (she could imagine the mess that would come with trying to put them on, or worse-take them off with her charms and bangles all in place.) Reverently, she lifted a couple of them and glanced into their contents. One caught her attention

”I do not ever remember to have trembled at a tale of superstition, or to have feared the apparition of a spirit. Darkness had no effect upon my fancy; and a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of beauty and strength, had become food for the worm.”

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein 1818

”Obviously Mary never heard of this place.” A soft smirk crossed her lips as she turned a few more pages The idea that dead is dead had been blown out the window here. Undead, living dead, somewhat dead, actual walking dead, and dead imitators abounded in this town. Even before she had come here, she had been taught there was more than science afoot in the world. She had seen what hid in the shadows of this world, and if it was science it was a type of science not understood.

Or, as Nana told her once. ‘A science that science doesn’t want to understand.’ The science types were racing to make up for lost time now. Only a few thousand years behind the game. Some articles she had seen recently was actually back peddling on the subject– claiming science always knew such things could be but never had proof till now. Pathetic liars– all of them. If so, why was people like herself always laughed at and scorned and not just by the living. Even those walking the streets now when they should be in boxes feeding Mary’s worms have problems accepting there is more. That being a vampire might be great, but in the cosmic hierarchy of things they were just aldermen while far above them were dukes and kings.

She went back to exploring the book till another line caught her eye.

“It may appear very strange, that a disciple of Albertus Magnus should arise in the eighteenth century; but our family was not scientifical, and I had not attended any of the lectures given at the schools of Geneva. My dreams were therefore undisturbed by reality; and I entered with the greatest diligence into the search of the philosopher’s stone and the elixir of life.”

How easy it was to find glimpses of one’s own past in things most ignore now as trivial or old. It could be her own life thanks to her upbringing by her grandmother. Reality was basically ******** until her mentor passed from this world. She knew how to survive and do what it took to survive, but her innermost self was always reaching out to what was beyond.

She closed the book gently and laid it back in place. 201 years ago it was written and it held truths no one today could ever deny. Oh they would, but if any could be honest with themselves, they would understand. Maybe.

The gloves were laid back in place and she began to drift around, searching the shelves, till her ‘host’ returned. Perhaps this time she might actually learn his name.

Or not.

[Benjamin Ellis (DELETED 12378)]

Making tea was something of a ritual for him, so much so that he nearly always had a pan of water boiling ready to be used to make himself a good cup. First, he put a small amount of boiled water into his tea pot and stirred it for a time, about twenty seconds, he then emptied the now cool water and poured more boiled water into the pot. Once the pot was purified, he picked out the English Breakfast tea that he always had at hand and placed four teaspoons of the tea leaves into a small infuser, it was easy then to pour a small amount of hot water onto them in order to rinse them. Once the leaves had been rinsed, he poured them into the teapot and put the lid on top. As he had to leave the tea to steep for three minutes, he decided to poke his head back out into the main shop.

The woman had made no mention of joining him, so he assumed she would rather not partake – or that she simply couldn’t - if it was the later then he was sorely sorry for her. There was the barest hint of a smile on his face, it pushed his cheeks up and made his eyes squint just a tiny bit. This woman had yet to insult his works, so he believed she deserved his attention.

“Oh, I have been terribly rude, haven’t I. My name is Benjamin Ellis, I am the proprietor of this establishment, as well as an antiquarian book dealer.” He did not move from behind the counter, and almost as soon as he had finished speaking, he looked down to his watch in order to make sure he didn’t steep his tea for too long. “You’ll have to excuse me; I don’t want to over-steep my tea – I’ll be right back,” once more he dashed into his kitchen where he would remain for the next two minutes.

Back in the kitchen, it was time to return to his ritual. He got down a second pot and placed an external strainer on top of it before pouring in the now perfectly steeped tea into the new pot. The strainer picked up all the loose leaves and left only the wonderful black tea in the pot. “Perfect.” He picked up the pot and placed it on a tray along with a single china teacup and saucer.

He returned to the store with the tray in hand. Carefully he placed the tray on his desk and took his seat on the old wooden stool once more. “Sorry about that. We English cannot abide badly made tea.” As he spoke, he poured himself a cup and took a small sip. The woman had his undivided attention now, whether she wanted it or not would be up to her.

[Zodiac]

”Oh my. Come here.” she stretched to reach the book. She would have not expected to find this here. “ ‘Star Man’s Son’ by Andre Norton?” it seemed the man had a touch of everything here. The tip of her finger managed to dislodge it and she deftly caught the small book as it fell. It was something she had not read since childhood.

“Oh, I have been terribly rude, haven’t I. My name is Benjamin Ellis, I am the proprietor of this establishment, as well as an antiquarian book dealer.”

She looked up from her found treasure as he spoke, but before she could reply he darted off again into the back. The aroma of steeping tea caught her nose. ”Curious little man,” she laughed softly inside. Unable to be bothered then explodes in a small fury of activity. She lay her latest find on top of the other two books that caught her eye and waited for his return. He reminded her of herself at times. Focused on one thing then suddenly full tilt on something else. She herself knew tea was a serious business, so she said nothing. The aroma grew stronger as he returned. ‘Breakfast Tea' some called it. Back in the day she may have added a couple raspberry leaves to her own mug (and still did for some customers at the tea house.) But she would never comment on how anyone enjoyed their tea.

Even to those barbarians who insist a bag out of a box dunked in boiling water qualified as ‘tea’.

“Sorry about that. We English cannot abide badly made tea.”

Ah, European. That made sense. Possibly a tea snob. She hoped the gift she arranged for him did not offend. If he did not wish to try them, he could always pass them along to others. That would be a good fate for them since every pouch was packaged with the information where to get more. His loss-her gain? Always a plus.

Judging by the look he was giving her, he expected a reaction. Absently she touched the button on her blouse she wore that declared to the world If you know ASL– WE CAN TALK! but somehow she doubted the man was versed in such a thing. Languages? Quite possibly, but reading did not rely on hands to form words.

She floated closer while still keeping some space between them (In her experience, the English could be quite fussy over the oddest things, including personal space) and considering she was going to have to ‘invade’ some very personal space here…

She smiled brightly as she placed her palms together and bowed her head for a moment. She then touched her forehead with two fingers, then pointed at his own forehead before ‘speaking’.

”Blessings of the night to you, good sir,” Her mental voice was soft and calm. ”Please forgive my intrusion into mind, but I am afraid it may be the only way to actually speak to you. If this bothers you we can use a notepad and pen instead.”

“Most in this place,” she continued. ”Know me simply as Zodiac.” She kept smiling as she offered her hand to him.

[Benjamin Ellis (DELETED 12378)]

The woman did not match the genteel atmosphere of the establishment, and yet, he found it rather charming. She was not like his other customers, the young and the modern, no, she was, in her own way, very graceful. He could have gazed upon her visage for quite some time, so different from even those that walked the streets of Covent Garden, yet he pulled his eyes from her and instead took account of the books she had neatly stacked upon his desk. Just like the woman who had picked them, the books were an eccentric lot.

The Mask of Cthulhu, The Vampyre and, Star Man’s Son. They were not books he would have picked for himself, nor were the books he would have put on the same list – but they suited her. Yes, he could see it now, this strange creature sat before an open fire, book in hand. She would be a sight indeed.

There was the slightest of smiles upon his lips as his eyes returned to the woman who was coming towards him, it was the sort of smile that pushed at his cheeks, boyish some would say. He was, of course, not in the habit of smiling overly much so it was only on his face for a moment, but the woman would have seen it clear as day. It was as he was offering that small hint of emotion that he noticed the button she gently tapped…

---

Oh, bugger. I do hope she is not offended…

---

Now, he could speak a wide variety of languages, and read a dozen more – but he had not yet learned how to communicate using any of the sign languages. He felt just the tiniest bit a fool. He should have seen it. He should have taken notice that she had not spoken a single word to him yet. Oh, what she must think of him! How could he make it up to her?

His eyes darted down in order to avoid the awkward situation for a small amount of time. He needed to think and come up with a way to salvage the situation. Perhaps he could offer her one of the books as a gift? Surely, she could forgive his blunder if he fed her appreciation of the written word.

He was lost in his thoughts, so much so that he did not even notice that the woman had moved towards him and was now far too close to his personal space. In fact, it was not until she pressed her fingers to his temple that he returned his gaze to her. And then he heard it. Her voice.

”Blessings of the night to you, good sir,” At first the voice gave him a small fright. He was new to this world of folklore; it would take some time before he became accustomed to people being able to freely speak inside of his head. ”Please forgive my intrusion into mind, but I am afraid it may be the only way to actually speak to you. If this bothers you we can use a notepad and pen instead.”

“Most in this place,” with great effort he forced himself to keep calm, he even managed a small twitch of a smile, “Know me simply as Zodiac.” And there he had it, her name.

“Well, this is different…tea?” He motioned to the teapot and the cooling tea before picking up his cup and taking a rather large gulp. “Can all…um…people like yourself, do that…” he waved to indicate he was speaking about her trick with speaking into his mind directly. “If so, I think I may actually have a heart attack…” It didn’t matter that technically his heart no longer beat in his chest, the fact remained that he was an old man faced with a new reality. How had his life come to this?[/font]

[Zodiac]

She saw she had unnerved the man, and drifted backwards. Was it her closeness or the fact she spoke in his mind? She appraised him again and concluded he was a young vampire and cursed at herself for not noticing before. She would admit the first time someone spoke in her head, she fell off the chair she was sitting in and grabbed a baseball bat.

Zodiac made a gesture to suggest he calm himself before trying again. Her eyes sparkling as her smile stayed firmly in place.

”It is a skill one can learn to do if they try hard enough.” Again, she kept her tone lite and calm. The last thing she wanted to do was make Mr. Ellis run for his back room again. ”Some learn it quicker than others.”

She then spread her arms and spun in a slow circle where she stood-all the while smiling.

”I do love the establishment you have made here. I feel that the longer I would explore, that small pile would continue to grow.” Soft laughter followed her words. Not in mocking, but in genuine delight. As when she was alive, she enjoyed stores like this. Not everything packaged perfectly with signs screaming to buy now. She enjoyed the hunt to find that special treasure only she would truly appreciate. She felt bad for the man. This was not just his establishment, but his fortress as well. His own little world surrounded by a sea of night (it didn’t matter that he too was part of the sea) and she had, inadvertently, gave it all a solid kick. She had lived like this when she was among the living. Shop downstairs and a tiny flat upstairs where she hid from (now) her kind.

The moment was broken when the chimes on the door rang. Zodiac turned to see one of her employees entering with a small, brightly decorated basket in hand. She held up a finger for patience to Mr. Ellis and then turned to confront the other woman. Zodiac’s hands moved in a gentle dance as she ‘spoke’ to the girl who apparently understood ASL. Only her replies could be made out by the shop owner.

“Basic selection and variants on English blends as requested.”
“Yes, folders for local business associations and other adverts are in as well.”
“I took the transit. Streets seem pretty clear tonight so far.”
“Okay, I will tell them. Have a good night, boss. Oh, and you too sir.” The conversation ended as the woman waved at Ellis and exited the shop.

Zodiac waited till she was gone, and then stood there with the basket in hand. How to continue this?

She reached into her purse and pulled out a notepad and tablet and began to write. When she had finished, she tore free the note and then drifted closer-sitting the basket on the counter in front of the man before pulling back to her original spot. The note read…

A ‘Welcome to Business’ gift for you. I own and operate a tea shop located in the Honeymead Marketplace and we pride ourselves on our custom blends. So, as a gift, I had my people bring a few sample packs for you to try if you wish. I had a feeling so told them to add some English variants to the assortment as well. I do hope you find something in there you may enjoy. If not, please feel free to pass them on to your friends or associates.

She stayed still but kept an air of friendliness about her. Mr. Ellis had been given a very rude shock into what vampire existence could be about. He was an allurist. She had no doubt. Some non allurists could consume food and drink, but got nothing out of it. But as she watched him drink his tea she noted the hints of satisfaction in the experience. It suggested he enjoyed the taste and since non allurists had no sense of taste…

It wasn’t rocket science. Her craft taught her to observe people. Hundreds of little clues most people would never pick up on, but yet on display to be seen. He enjoyed his tea and he was still calming down from a shock. Best to wait till he calmed down more.