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Rain had begun falling since he left the train station, pattering against the grey street - Daniel had managed to avoid the worst of it, stepping under the eaves that hung over the shops to stay dry. Daniel headed into one of those shops - a shop with a sign that declared Dragonfire.

Inside was a panoply of colors and books: the place had a fantasy motif to it, and bookshelves lined the wall and crowded the store, each filled with books. The sight was at once both soothing and exciting - it left him smiling to himself, drawn away from the worries of the day and the chaos of the city and eager to run his fingers along the books and see what treasures awaited him here. A good bookstore was like that, and in spite of the other troubles that Harper Rock had, it at least seemed to have good bookstores.

He headed first for the books on display. There were a few out-of-print books that he was hoping to buy, but he liked to check the most prominent shelf first.

He'd always found that you could tell a lot about a bookstore by what it had on display. Admittedly, sometimes all you learned was "we know what the bestsellers are and we like to make money" (which was fair enough, if not particularly enlightening), but he enjoyed staff recommendations or themed recommendations.

He was curious which would be the case here.

Outside, the steady fall of rain offered an almost calming ambience to the shop. It pattered against the windows, the drops creating a few abstract designs that, had she been paying attention, would have caught her eye and kept her enthralled for days. Instead, the youthful shop owner found herself tucked away in front of the pseudo-fireplace, her feet tucked beneath her slender form as she flipped through the pages of some archaic text that she had found tucked away in one of the few boxes she had managed to salvage from Novel Idea’s sudden demise. Above her head, the ancient dragon clock ticked away, signaling the hours that were passing by, the stone tail swaying to and fro with a soft hum.

Dragonfire, much to her delight, had proven to be a success in design – and business. When she had originally spoken to her confidantes about her desire to make the shop hold a more Celtic and Fantasy vibe, she had been met with confusion that slowly morphed into amusement. They hadn’t thought it possible. After all, there weren’t many in Harper Rock that shared her interests in all things… strange… but, as she scanned the stone walls lined with every fantasy book imaginable, she was pleased she hadn’t stuck to her true self and went with what she felt burning in her gut. From the moment she had opened the doors, allowing the appealing scent of the Dragon’s Blood incense to filter into the night, she had had a steady stream of business. Tonight, however, was far different.

Hoping it was just the weather that kept her customers away, Vexen slowly trailed her fingers through her hair and flipped to the last page of the tome, her painted nail tapping anxiously against the weathered pages. She could hardly say she had learned anything from within the binding. The language was foreign to her, but the script was marvelous. Elegantly scrolled across each page were words and pictures, and from what she had gathered, this had been a journal of sorts. It wasn’t something she wanted to put on display quite yet, so with a quiet hum, the blonde hoisted herself from her chair and headed for the back, the heavy book tucked easily beneath her arm. The weight, had she been human, might have deterred her, but as a vampire, she almost forgot it was there until she dropped it back into its box.

Just as she slid the lock into place and pulled out her phone, Robin’s name the first one she brought up, fingers already tapping out a quick message to see if he was available – she heard the deep, melodic chime of the entrance’s bell. At first, she thought he had already decided to join her, but as she stepped from the back and caught the faintest tell of a heartbeat, she realized her mistake. It’s kind of late, she thought as she made her way through the various shelves, her senses leading her straight to the man. Her smile, though bright and welcoming, also held a touch of wariness to it. It didn’t matter how often she found herself facing customers, each and every time left the Mystic feeling nervous.

“I’m surprised anyone decided to venture out this late,” she chuckled, bright eyes doing a quick sweep of the man. Taking note of the tattoos, she cupped her phone in one hand, her thumb hitting the ‘send’ button on the screen, even as she held out her hand. “I’m Vexen, the owner of Dragonfire. If you need any help finding anything, let me know, okay?”

"Night owl, I'm afraid," he explained, as he looked up from a book he'd started looking at.

When he saw the woman who'd addressed him, he stiffened in surprise, a suspicion starting to form in his mind. After a beat, he shook her offered hand. It didn't surprise him to discover that her hand was cool to the touch.

Vampire. He felt a prickle of unease along his spine, though she hadn't done anything to threaten him.

Far from it, in fact. If she had noticed the black sigils that his jacket hadn't entirely covered, she hadn't let it alter her friendly demeanour. It was possible that she hadn't seen or hadn't noticed; most vampires tended to make not entirely unreasonable assumptions about people like him.

Well, if she wasn't going to mention it, he wasn't either. Daniel gave her a slight smile. "Thank you."

After a surreptitious look at the price on the back cover of the book in his hand, he put Electric Dreams back on the shelf. He scanned the shelves behind her and then looked back at her. Her offer to help sounded sincere enough, which both surprised and pleased him.

"Would you mind pointing me toward the Young Adult section? I'm picking up some books for my sister's kids."

He hadn't intended the last sentence to sound quite so much a defensive self-justification; when he realized how it came out, he let out an amused breath, his expression turning rueful.