Page 106 of You’re So Vein

Hannah sprints over, and Dora shows her how to stuff velvet pouches with crystals and herbs and little rolled-up scrolls containing incantations. I itch at my wrist, where a tiny shoot has shot through my skin. This isn’t the kind of magic I’m used to, but it’s magic all the same.

I hover by the tarot card rack and watch her for a while. She greets customers with a smile, quickly gets the hang of the register, and delights in upselling some human kids her age on crystals shaped like skulls and cats. When I’m certain she’s safe and thriving, I duck outside to look around. Of course, my gaze lands on Komal.

She hasn’t opened the tourist office. Instead, she moves between her friends’ businesses as the crowd grows, chatting to people she knows, helping Beth match skincare to complexions, talking up Celeste’s first attempt at vampire food. She’s so beautiful under the moonlight. I wish…

I wish for things that would have me torn apart by the Nevermore Coven.

Komal looks up from Beth’s display of healing tonics and meets my eyes. Her whole face breaks into a smile that cannot possibly be for me. She leaves Beth and jogs over to me.

“How’s Hannah doing?”

“She’s a natural.” I try to tear my gaze from her glittering smile, and find myself unable to do so. “Thank you for this gift.”

“Gift?” Hannah appears between us, tugging our arms to smush us together. My arm brushes Komal’s breast, and it takes everything in me not to bite down on her delectable neck. “Would either of you like to buy a gift? We have many wonderful gifts, including scented candles and these sure-to-work love potions—”

“You’re the birthday girl. You get the gifts, not us,” I say quickly, before Hannah gets hung up on love potions.

“Choose whatever you like.” Komal winks at me. “Augie’s paying.”

Hannah sniffs every single candle and chooses ten. She stops in front of a bookshelf filled with spell books, frowning as she reads the titles.

“We don’t have any books like this,” she says. “Augie says that magic is too dangerous for me.”

“Magic is only dangerous if you mean it to be. It’s all about intent. This one is good for young witches just learning spellcraft.” Isis hands her a small book with a girl Hannah’s age on the cover.

“I’m not a witch, though.”

“Are you sure about that?” Isis says. “You have a basket full of magical tools that says otherwise.”

“I’ve never been able to make flowers bloom or bring a dead tree back to life or make vines grow from my wrists, like some people.” Hannah pouts at me. Isis peers at me with interest. Panic surges inside me. We were all so careful to keep to Komal’s lie. Do her friends suspect?

They can’t.

All they know about Dhampir comes from vampire myth – that they are cruel monsters with teeth of iron and uncontrollable hunger. They cannot possibly think that’s what Hannah is.

“Some people possess powerful, flashy magic,” Dora looks straight at me as she says this. “But all of us have a little magic inside of us. We aren’t in the business of teaching people how to change the weather or make people fall in love. Isis and I can help unlock your own unique magic, to give you that little dash of bravery or confidence or positivity when you need it most.”

“I want to be brave.” Hannah adds the book to her basket. I frown. I’m not so sure Hannah should be thinking about magic. She’s never shown any magical ability before now, and I don’t know if I should encourage her. What if her magic is dangerous?

Dora’s eyes meet mine. While Komal helps Isis ring up Hannah’s purchases, Dora beckons me into a corner filled with pungent incense sticks.

“Not all magic has to be sinister,” Dora says to me as we watch Hannah rush around the shop. “For most people who shop here, this is a bit of fun, a way to infuse their lives with hope. And hope is its own kind of magic.”

I shake my head. “Where I come from, magic isn’t hope. It’s a weapon.”

“I know. That’s why I think you should show Hannah another way.”

“Hannah isn’t mine to teach.”

“I know you and Komal have invented this story about her ‘skin condition’, but the way she always looks to you before deciding something, I can tell, even if the others can’t. Augustin, I know—” Dora lays a hand on my shoulder. Her hand snaps back, her eyes wild.

“What happened?” Is Dora okay?

“I had a vision,” she whispers. “About you. About Hannah. Come with me.”

Dora gestures for me to follow her into the back of the shop. We huddle in a small storage room. I fold myself into a corner, boxes of candles and mason jars filled with herbs jabbing into my ribs. Dora leans against the staircase leading to the upstairs flat. I listen with half an ear to Hannah helping some customers choose the perfect candle. She sounds so happy.

“You had a vision?” I frown.