Succubus Blues by Richelle Mead

good places to eat in that area are Han & Sons, the Plum Tomato Café, and Lotus Chinese.
    â€”Georgina
    I left the store, promptly forgetting about Seth, happy there’d be no traffic this early in the day. Driving up to Lake City, I easily found the intersection the girl at Krystal Starz had indicated. Locating the store itself proved more of a challenge. Strip malls and assorted businesses packed the area, and I read through myriad billboards and storefronts in the hopes of finding something promising. Finally, I spotted a small, dark sign tucked away in the corner of a less-frequented cluster of stores. ARCANA, LTD . That had to be it.
    I parked in front, hoping it was actually open. No one had posted hours or anything on the door, but it gave way without resistance when I pushed on it. Sandalwood incense burned in the air around me as I entered, and faint harp music played from a small CD player set up on the counter. I couldn’t see anyone else in the room, and so I wandered around, admiring the sights. Real books on mythology and religion—not the flashy fluff Krystal Starz sold—lined the walls, and carefully arranged display cases held handcrafted jewelry I recognized from a few different local artists. Assorted ritual items—candles, incense, and statuary—filled in the nooks and crannies, giving the whole place a sort of jumbled, pleasantly lived-in feel.
    â€œMiss Kincaid. It is an honor to see you again.”
    I spun around from where I had been admiring a White Tara statue. Erik walked into the room, and I reined in my surprise at his appearance. When had he grown so old? He had been old the last time I saw him—dark skin wrinkled, hair gone gray—but I did not remember the slight stoop in his walk, or the hollowed look around his eyes. I tried to remember the last time we’d talked; I hadn’t thought it’d been that long. Five years? Ten? With mortals, it was easy to lose track.
    â€œIt’s good to see you too. You aren’t easy to find anymore. I had to go poking around Krystal Starz to figure out what happened to you.”
    â€œAh. I hope the experience wasn’t too…awkward.”
    â€œNothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, I’m glad you got out of there.” I looked around at the cluttered, dimly lit shop. “I like this new place.”
    â€œIt’s not much—doesn’t bring in much either—but it’s mine. It’s what I’ve been saving for, where I’ll spend my last years.”
    I grimaced. “Don’t turn melodramatic on me now. You aren’t that old.”
    His smile broadened, his expression turning slightly wry. “Neither are you, Miss Kincaid. Indeed, you are as beautiful as the first time I saw you.” He gave me a slight bow, bending lower than someone with his back probably should have. “How may I be of service?”
    â€œI need information.”
    â€œOf course.” He gestured to a small table near the main counter, currently covered with books and an elaborate candle holder. “Sit and have tea with me, and we’ll talk. Unless you are in a hurry?”
    â€œNo, I have time.”
    While Erik fetched the tea, I cleared off the table, setting books in neat stacks on the floor. When he returned with the teapot, we made small talk and sipped our drinks for a bit, but my mind really wasn’t into it. My restlessness must have come through loud and clear as my fingers danced along the cup’s edge and my toe tapped impatiently.
    Finally, I broached my topic. “I need to know about vampire hunters.”
    For most other people, this would have been a weird request, but Erik only nodded expectantly. “What in particular would you like to know?”
    â€œAnything. Their habits, how to recognize them. Whatever you’ve got.”
    He leaned back in his chair, holding the cup delicately. “My understanding is that vampire hunters are