That's a Good Question

2: do vampires even drink coffee?

I'm actually not a coffee person. It's kinda sad, but I'm that person that walks into a coffee shop and reads the menu and breathes in the heavy scent of coffee beans and then walks up to the barista and says, "Hit me up with that green tea. Piping hot."

I know, I know. I should spend my time in a teahouse, or something, but the thing is, there's not a lot of those over here. The ones that do exist are usually owned by witches who put some shady stuff in their tea. Stuff that makes you vomit roses or tints your skin blue for a few days. Can't trust witches, either.

Anyway, on my way back to my own place, I stop in at the same coffee shop I stop in at almost everyday. It's next to a gas station, which separates it from another coffee shop, and most people go to the other one because it's large and nice and has floor-to-ceiling windows you can see the whole sky out of. But that one's not as authentic. So I go to The Steam Room instead.

The Steam Room is not large or nice, and nor does it have floor-to-ceiling windows. It's made out of crumbling bricks, painted a sloppy and cracking white, and the one window it does have is kind of smudgy. They at least have their sign in tact, however, a giant piece of wood with a painting of  a coffee mug, beside The Steam Room in light-up letters.

A bell dings above my head as I enter. At this time of day, the place is kind of dead. There's a study group of humans in one corner, a pixie reading a gardening book in another. Then there's this other pink-haired girl nervously tapping at her phone and sucking her iced coffee down like someone's going to steal it. I have no idea what's wrong with her, so I deliberately steer myself away from her on my way to the counter.

I barely have to order; the barista's this guy Henry who already knows what I want. He just gives me a smile and then calls over his shoulder to the other worker, "Get Grey his tea, please."

"Thanks, Henry," I say, sliding a five dollar bill over to him.

When I have my tea, I settle myself in a chair near the fireplace. I'm not sure if they ever actually light it or if it's just for show, but I sit down next to it anyway, in one of those huge leather chairs you'd see your dad sitting in in the living room. I've just pulled a magazine from the rack when the windows shatter and I hear a chorus of screams.

I jolt, spilling my tea all over myself. I curse. "Hot! Hot, hot, hot..."

Then I look up and curse the heavens. Just my luck. A group of black-clad vampires has just stormed the place, crashing in through the windows and grabbing up the person nearest them. I scowl as I see one of them grab one of the human students and sink their teeth in their neck like my dad into one of his beloved green apples. Henry's cowering behind the counter, a phone pressed to his ear. I start to approach him to tell him not to call anyone, but then one of the vampires rears up in front of me, his fangs bared and his hands outstretched.

"Most people come to a coffee shop for coffee, you know!" I yelp. "Not to eat people!"

He shakes his head, and I'm about to take care of this guy once and for all when he suddenly starts shaking. No, really, he's seizing as if he's having an epileptic fit, and only when he starts sizzling do I realize he's being electrocuted.

He bursts into flames in front of me, and I take a disgusted step back as ash hits the floor.

Standing there is the girl with the pink hair, and she's got a wand in her hand. Of frickin' course. Witches. They're everywhere. "You're welcome!" she shouts over the screams.

"I could have handled it!" I yell back.

"Really?" she taunts. "Didn't look like it—"

As she's talking, I see this shadow loom up behind her. It's too late for me to warn her, so instead I just use another one of the powers my dad passed on to me. I call the shadows forward, up, into my hands, where they cement into a dagger. Usually, if I focus, I can make a sword or even a mace or something, but this is quick thinking. Stepping forward, I slash upwards, catching the vampire right in his heart. He falls apart in a dusty mess, and I step back, gritting my teeth. "What was it you were saying?" I hiss back at the witch. "About me not handling it?"