“I am a vampire; what do I need from a human blacksmith?”
“All right, Ivan: a coupla things,” Ana-Maria replied. “First, stop announcing that you’re a vampire when we’re out on the street. I know you’re a vampire. I’ve known you for thirty years. Second, just say blacksmith, not human blacksmith. And third, he’s not a blacksmith; Kellan owns a gun shop.”
“Kellan. I don’t like that human name.”
“Just say name.” Ana-Maria held the door open for Ivan. He bounced off the threshold. “Shit.” She yelled into the store, “Kellan, can you invite Ivan in?”
“Come in, Ivan,” Kellan said from behind the counter. He waved them inside, leading Ivan and Ana-Maria down a hallway and through a door marked “Employees Only.”
Through there, was a closet.
Kellan pushed on the back of the closet, revealing a second showroom.
“We’ve got it all here. Stake-proof chest protectors, Craftmatic adjustable coffins, and holy waterproof ponchos for the vampires. We’ve got garlic spray and guns that shoot tiny stakes if you wanna get rid of a rival. We’ve got silver handcuffs and silver bullets for problem werewolves. We have cursed boxes, ghost traps, dreamcatchers, and whatever else you might need.”
Ivan smiled a terrible smile. “I don’t show up in mirrors or on camera.”
“Right?”
“I want to change my hair, but don’t know how it’ll look.”
“I’m going to give you this card. This is my friend Celestia. She’ll help you out.”
“She is a sorceress?”
“Caricature artist,” Kellan replied.