I couldn’t let things stay as they were. So, letting my curiosity get the better of me, I asked for more details. Sue me.

“I mean, my brother can control fire, make it bend to his will, shape it, grow it, or extinguish it with just a thought,” Jinx said, her tone carrying equal parts awe and frustration. “The same goes for the other elements. Earth, water, air -it’s all like putty in his hands.”

I could hear her shift in her seat, the quiet scrape of fabric against pleather. She wasn’t just telling me about her brother; she was reliving it, feeling the weight of his abilities in contrast to her own.

“And my sister,” she continued, her voice dropping slightly as if the words were heavier, “she can manipulate and control the very fabric of creation. While my brother might be able to take the elements and shape them into, I don’t know, a diamond statue, my sister can see into the pattern of the universe itself. She can bind it, unbind it, weave it, reweave it… even create new patterns entirely. Practically willing something into existence. Or destroying it with a thought.”

Her voice faltered, as if the enormity of her sister’s power was too much to fully put into words. “She’s what some people call magi, or a spellcaster if you’re being generic. Others call her a sorcerer, though those are two different approaches to the same thing.”

“A wizard,” I repeated, unable to keep the incredulity out of my voice. “You’re not serious. At least she’s not a warlock.”

She gave a small laugh, a dry, bitter sound. “Exactly my thoughts.”

“Wow,” I said, leaning back against the booth. “That’s… a lot to process. And that’s how you know so much about all this stuff?”

“Well… sort of, yeah,” she said, lowering her voice. She leaned forward slightly, the shift bringing with it the faint scent of citrus and cinnamon from her earlier drink. “See, there’s an entire world hidden within the one most people know about. It’s woven throughout it, overlays it. It’s as much a part of this world as anything else, but it’s hidden. It’s kept hidden behind the Veil.”

“The Veil?” I asked, intrigued. “What’s that?”

She paused, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the table. “The Veil is… both a concept and a real thing. It’s the belief in how things are and how they should be. It’s also an actual unseen force that exists between our worlds. Both act as barriers that conceal the realm of magic from the mundane.”

She sipped at her tea and mulled over the world she was giving me a crash course on. I let her stew a bit, comfortable in the silence. And she continued. “The scholars say that the Veil is a creation of belief. People, mundanes -normies- they think the world should be a certain way, and so it is. The fact that there exists another world just beneath the surface is someone else’s business.”

“Like the Somebody Elses Problem Field,” I mused aloud.

“The what?” Jinx was momentarily confused. But then a flash of insight overcame that. “You mean from the Hitchhikers’ Guide? Yes! Exactly! Just like that,” she exclaimed.

“Also known as ‘willful ignorance’,” I grimaced, realizing that I was just as guilty of it as anyone. My mother was a seer. I just didn’t believe her. Not really. “So,” I said, mulling it over, “vampires, werewolves, wizards -all of it’s real? Like, actually real?”

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She nodded. “Yes. Though most people will go their whole lives never knowing it.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Honestly, I’m not that surprised.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Why not?”

“Well,” I said, swirling the remnants of my coffee in my cup, “my mom always said she was a seer. Worked part-time as a fortune teller. I always figured it was a scam, but here’s the thing: her hunches were always right. Every time. No matter how much I wished otherwise. It was… annoying, growing up with a mom who’s always right. Exhausting, really.”

That got her. She laughed, a genuine sound that lightened the air between us – her laugh was accentuated by a soft snort, which she tried to cover up. So cute. For a moment, the weight of our conversation eased.

“Yeah,” she said, “I can imagine.”

Her laughter faded, and her tone shifted again, curiosity taking over. “So… you never told me exactly how you survived against those guys in the alley.”

I set my cup down carefully. “I didn’t.”

She laughed nervously. “Of course you did. What do you mean, you didn’t?”

“I mean I’m pretty sure I died,” I said, keeping my tone even. “There were moments where I’d drift in and out of consciousness, just barely aware of what was happening. And the last thing I remember before everything went black? Getting my throat and wrists cut, right before I was shot. So yeah, I’m pretty sure I left this mortal coil behind.”

She froze. Her breathing stopped, her body going completely still.

“The next thing I knew,” I continued quietly, “I was clawing my way out of an abyss of darkness.”

The silence between us stretched, heavy and uncomfortable. Even the sounds of the diner -the clatter of dishes, the faint murmur of other patrons- seemed muted.

Before she could respond, Doris arrived at the table, her chipper tone cutting through the tension like a knife. “Everything okay over here? Need anything else?”

I smiled up in her direction. “We’re good. But I’ll take another coffee, if you don’t mind. Oh, and the check.”

Doris left the coffee pot on the table and placed the check in the center with a cheerful, “Take your time.”

Jinx found her voice again, though it was quieter, more tentative. “But how? I mean… you’re out in broad daylight. You don’t look undead. How have you not… turned?”

“Father Ben had a theory,” I said, pouring myself another cup of coffee. The rich aroma filled the air, mingling with the sugary scent of syrup lingering from earlier. “He thinks I’m different somehow. Said the only way to keep myself from fully turning is to kill the vampire who turned me. My… master.”

She flinched slightly at the word. “And you think this ‘master’ is calling to you?”

“Ben did,” I said. “He thought that invisible pull I’ve been feeling was my master drawing me in. That once I found him, I’d have to kill him to stop the transformation.”

“And?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“And… that seems impossible now,” I said, my voice heavy with resignation.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because that invisible force?” I said, gesturing vaguely. “It led me to you. And now it’s gone.”

Her breath hitched. “Gone?”

“Nada. Finito. No more invisible vampire GPS.”

She was silent for a moment, then asked, “So what do you plan to do now?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I was hoping you could help me figure that out. Why I was drawn to you, what happened that night… maybe even how to fix this.”

“Why me?” she asked, the question tinged with doubt.

“Because,” I said simply, “I was led to you. My gut says you’re important. And my mom always told me to trust my gut. And remember, she’s always right.”

Jinx let out a small laugh, but there was a thoughtful edge to it. “I remember. And… she might be right. About trusting your gut, I mean.”

“Really?” I asked, perking up. “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “Because I might know another way to find out how to cure you.”

I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “How?”

She hesitated, her fingers tapping lightly against the table. “There’s a place. Beyond the Veil. It’s… complicated to get to, but it might have the answers you’re looking for.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Excellent. When do we leave?”