dark they were practically navy slacks and a new shade of lipstick that I would have to wipe off before I went home.
Reluctantly, I abandoned the special anniversary edition of The Princess Bride I’d been ogling ever since I’d spotted it on the shelf days ago. I knew that most people preferred the movie to the book, with its ambiguous and potentially gloomy ending, but that story had gotten me through some very unhappy times as a preteen. I’d devoted many hours to imagining that I’d be whisked away by some handsome man in a mask. Hell, at several points, I would have settled for an angry Sicilian genius. This was a gorgeous leather-bound tome that I couldn’t bring myself to splurge on. I was sort of a tightwad when it came to buying things just for me, just for fun.
Dick slid a purple Specialty Books mug across the bar. It smelled…funny.
“Is there blood in this?” I asked him. “I think, legally, you have to tell me before I drink it.”
“No blood, just a sample of some flavoring syrups,” he said as I took a tentative sip. “But they’re made by a new vampire-run company and sometimes I wonder if it’s a good idea for us to produce food products. Human food tastes like garbage to us, so vampires making human food products seems like a not-great idea.”
I smacked my lips, trying to clear my mouth of the weird, synthetic raspberry cough syrup taste combined with nicely brewed coffee. “Well…”
“Well, what?”
I pressed my lips together before whispering, “My mama always told me if I couldn’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”
Dick cringed.
“So I’m trying to figure out a way to go back in time so I can take some words back from my lifetime total, to make up for how bad this is,” I said, making him draw the mug back across the bar. “I mean, when was the last time these people ate fruit?!”
“I’m guessing a long time.”
“It tastes like a cough drop that’s been left in an old lady’s sweater pocket for like a year, and then she digs it out and you take it because you don’t want to be rude, but then you’re just left with this awful pocket fuzz taste in your mouth,” I said, shuddering. “But then add a weird synthetic chemical taste afterwards.”
“For someone who doesn’t want to say anything mean, this is a very specific old lady-based scenario,” he deadpanned.
“I do what I can,” I said.
“So…don’t buy the line of syrups.”
I shook my head vehemently. “Don’t buy the syrups.”
The bell over the door rang and a vampire in a floral peasant top came in, carrying a large shipping box labeled “SPECIALTY BOOKS—TEA ORDER” in a haphazard hand.
“Hey Meadow, how’d the move go?” With Dick’s accent, the name came out as “Medda” but the lady didn’t seem to mind. She smiled brightly at him.
“As well as you could expect when the people moving are one person with what you might call a lax attitude towards organization and the other one is Erik,” she said, jerking her shoulder. “You and Andrea have been really good to us and we appreciate it. So, to thank you, I brought you this.”
She reached into the shipping box and pulled out a package wrapped in brightly patterned cloth.
“Is it slippery elm bark tea?” Dick asked, his expression caught between affection and dread.
“It’s slippery elm bark tea!” she chirped, relentlessly cheerful despite Dick’s clear lack of enthusiasm.
“I know you say this stuff is good for me, Hippy Dippy, but by comparison, Ty’s old lady cough drop description sounds tempting.”
Meadow blinked at him, confused. I snickered.
“Drink the tea, Dick!” Andrea called from the stacks.
“It’s good for you!” Jane added.
“This is a vast conspiracy among the women in my life to drive me nuts, isn’t it?” he asked Meadow.
I laughed, clapping my hand over my mouth.
“You got something to add there, Little Red?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Is that my nickname?”
“You have to admit it’s better than Hippy Dippy,” Meadow said.
“We’re still working on it.” Dick looked at me, his lips pursed in contemplation. “Cough Drop Hater?”
I shook my head again. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I’m Meadow Schwartz,” Meadow said, offering her hand. “I own the tea shop down the street, Everlasting Health. Stop by anytime.”
“Thanks, but I’m more of a coffee drinker. Or at least, I was before Dick and his cough drop syrup ruined the drink forever,” I said as Jane and Andrea joined her at the