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“I’m sorry?”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.” She stuffed her hands into her pockets and leaned back on the bench of the cab. “He shouldn’t have been left like that.”

“I agree. I simply think I need to send an old friend an email and perhaps a bottle of wine as an apology.” He fished his phone out of his coat and began typing into it. He paused. “Perhaps a whole case of wine.”

Dracula was real. Huh. “So. Werewolves?”

“Yes.”

“Sea monsters?”

He squinted one eye thoughtfully. “Maybe. I think so. Or at least, there used to be.”

“Mummies.”

“Those are just zombies in old fabric. Obviously.”

“Aliens?”

“Not that I know of, but anything is possible.”

“Witches?”

“I am a necromancer and a lich, darling. Yes.”

“Fairies.”

“Yes, but they are not what you’re thinking.” He was smiling as he typed into his phone, clearly enjoying the game they were playing. “Run if you ever meet one.”

“Noted.” She was grinning. “Oh—yetis?”

“Naturally, of course.”

“Bigfoot?”

“Same thing, different species.” He hit send on the email he was writing then eyed her curiously. “You’re enjoying this. Most people are afraid when they find out how crowded the darkness is.”

“No, it means the world’s interesting. That even if I am an undead what-the-fuck, I’m not really alone.”

“That is one thing you’ve never been, princess.” Reaching out, he stroked a strand of her hair back and tucked it behind her ear. “You have suffered much, but you’ve never been alone.”

So much for keeping herself from blushing.

“If all this resolves pleasantly, perhaps…if you’re amenable, I could…” He trailed off nervously. It was his turn to stare out the window beside him, his brows furrowed. She could only imagine he was probably swearing at himself in his head.

“I’d like to see the world. Meet all the supernatural weirdos. And assuming we don’t die, or I end up hating your guts, maybe we can go together.” She smiled. “Will that make the weirdos more or less likely to kill me?”

“That entirely depends on the weirdo in question.” He studied the vulture atop his cane for a moment and brushed some dust out of one of the grooves in the carving. “It isn’t a society. We don’t pay dues or have clubhouses.”

“That’s a shame. Maybe that’s my mission in life.” Grinning, she shut her eyes and let herself enjoy the fantasy. “Start a society of spooky what-the-fucks. Get a Slack channel going.”

He laughed again, running a hand through his hair to push it away from his face. “I don’t think you understand how volatile that group would be.”

“Oh, I totally understand. That’s part of the fun. Don’t think I didn’t wonder what would happen if you and that vampire went at it.” She hummed. “Might have been fun.”

“Fun for you.”