Page 3 of Night Shift

The bell above the door jingles, and Calliope looks up with interest, followed by a quick calculation. Apparently deciding I am neither dangerous nor troublesome, she smiles.

"Hey. What can I get you?"

I approach the counter.

The menu is a blackboard nightmare of colored chalk.

Espresso. Drip. Pour-over. Cold brew. Macchiato. Mocha. Cortado. Flat white. Cappuccino.

There are syrups and sizes and suspiciously gothic house specialties with names like Coffin Nails and Necromancer's Nitro.

I read the menu twice before realizing I do not know how to proceed.

I have no frame of reference for what any of these things mean. More importantly, I am unaccustomed to consuming much of anything at all. I am exempt from hunger, thirst, and most other metabolic impositions.

Calliope watches me for another moment.

"First time?"

I meet her gaze. Lying accomplishes nothing and usually slows things down.

"Yes."

Her mouth twitches. "Coffee or Ghoulish Grinds?"

"Coffee."

That earns me a smile.

"Okay. We can work with that." She leans against the counter. "What do you like? Sweet? Dark and bitter? Spicy? Fruity?"

This is the sort of question that, millennia ago, might have occasioned the invention of the Socratic method.

"I am not certain. The aroma is pleasant."

"That's a start." She studies me, though not in the cautious manner I am accustomed to. "Chocolate?"

I consider it.

"I have enjoyed chocolate."

"Excellent. We're starting with a mocha." She reaches for a cup. "Regular milk okay?"

"Yes."

She turns to work.

The machine hisses and whirs while she moves around it with easy confidence, her fingers finding everything without looking. I sense she is wondering about me, or at least where I belong in the taxonomy of this town, but she does not ask.

I approve.

A minute later, she sets a paper cup in front of me. A bat wearing a top hat decorates the side.

"Go slow," she warns. "First-timers sometimes get the spins if they slam it."

I lift the cup and take a drink.

The first sensation is heat, followed immediately by sweetness and bitterness and something far stronger underneath. I swallow, surprised by the riot of flavor.