So the Nexus. Basically, the Earth is polka-dotted by mystical axis points where occult energies are heightened and supernatural activity is especially strong; when they’re close enough together, these points act like a chain of power plants, amplifying the signal and creating what are known as ley lines. Two such lines intersect at Fulton Heights, which is why our boring suburb gets a double scoop of otherworldly drama.

Adriana waves her hand. “Honestly, vampires are a greater threat to livestock than they are to us. One cow can feed a whole pack of vamps.”

“I guess that’s nice to hear?” Hope looks like she feels bad for local cows.

Excusing myself, I head to the counter to place her order and ogle my favorite barista some more. Gunnar is talking to a coworker, his attention diverted, so I don’t even have to be sly about it. He lifts his shirt to scratch his stomach, exposing a few extra inches of bare skin, and I try not to drool.

“Hey!” Gunnar’s eyes light up when he finally notices me. “You’re back! You need another marshmallow?” Then, before I can answer, “Wait, I didn’t screw up the chocolate, did I? I pumped it twice, like you said, but if it’s not enough I can pump it some more.”

The thought of Gunnar “pumping it” makes me dizzy, and I have to hold on to the counter for a moment to keep from swooning.

“Haha,” I say—like, actually say, because I am the most awkward human on the planet. “No, the chocolate is perfect! I, um, need to get a thing for my friend.”

“Sure—your wish is my command,” Gunnar says, and if only that were true. He looks at me expectantly, and his eyes are so pretty, for a moment I honestly can’t even remember how to utter words. While I’m giving my brain an urgent pep talk, I hear the bell over the front door jingle again—and a curious sensation brushes its way up my spine. It’s like déjà vu from that night in my front yard; as I break out in goose bumps, I turn around.

A man has entered Sugar Mama’s. His hair wild, he kicks the door shut behind him, muttering under his breath. He’s probably homeless, looking for a place to warm up … but something about him snags and holds my focus. Shuffling along the front of the café, he twitches a little, mumbling louder, and people look politely away. The feeling that crept up my spine is under my skin now, getting stronger, and I watch the man bump against the table of the mother with her three kids. Glaring up at him, the woman snaps, “Excuse me, do you mind?”