She couldn't take her eyes off the empty, grey box, her mind spinning as she tried to make sense of dread in her chest.
Without realizing it, her fingers sought out a distraction, blindly reaching out and fidgeting with the heavy metal objects left on the counter.

She rolled them between her palms, the smooth, metallic clink giving her brain that much needed grounding.

Who was she?

The question echoed in her head, repeating, each time louder until it drowned out the muffled thumping of Joseph still trapped in the cabinet.

Then, the fog in her brain cleared, and her fingers registered the shape of what she was holding.

Tegan froze, looking down at her hands.

What the fuck!

Tegan yanked her hand back, gagging at the thought of Germs that were now on her; she could practically see an army of little viruses marching on her skin. "Dammit! What did I just say?"

She went to grab a bottle of hand sanitizer. “Going to give me a disease! What is wrong with you!” She didn’t care he was supposed to be an all-powerful Necromancer; that she had just yelled, right now, he was a client who crossed a line! “Who just hands someone TEETH!”

Body mutilation was a strict boundary! Hard stop! Don’t pass Go! Do not collect two hundred dollars!

“I cleaned them before I brought them in!” She wasn’t sure if he was actually offended or playing it up, but it didn’t stop her. She glared at him as she pumped enough into her hand that it ran over and dripped onto the floor, even as she rubbed it into her skin.

“Gross..Gross.. Just so fucking gross.”

“Are you done yet?”

“NO!” He waited patiently, watching her with that stupid smug smile she wanted to smack right off his face. He was absolutely enjoying every moment of her freaking out.
She took a few deep breaths when she realized that Regis didn’t leave any gloves.

Mordecai slid them closer to her, that same expression when he realized she had no choice but to pick them up, and he fucking knew it!

The teeth were small, golden caps that looked almost real, roots and all, etched with intricate symbols. They hummed faintly against her palm, a soft, electric vibration that made her hands tingle as she pressed her fingertip against the sharp barb.

"What?"

"Once placed into the mouth, the barbs grow into the gums to lock them in place," Mordecai explained, not even noticing Tegan's face had gone a sickly pale grey.

"Suddenly, I don't feel good."

“Oh, don't worry. I didn’t pull them,” Mordecai said, expression unreadable. “And they’re not real. Dentures… from an elderly vampire who needed replacements.”

Tegan glared, pushing the set towards him. She was absolutely done with his shit today. “Get out.”

“Wait,” he said, smirking. “These are pure gold. Not that fake stuff humans make.”

“Gold from a dead guy’s mouth. Charming,” she muttered.

Mordecai leaned across the counter, long fingers tapping the glass. “True. But the power in the metal matters more than its origin. This gold is alive with history. Does it really matter?”

Tegan’s eyebrows knitted together. “Real Aztec gold? None of that alloy crap?”

“One hundred percent. Crafted by Xolo, apprentice to an Aztec god. That’s why it's Aztec gold. Didn’t Ethan teach you anything?”

She hesitated, thumb tapping the counter. “Why do I get the feeling these things are cursed?”

“Well… technically, you wouldn’t be wrong. Xolo made a full set. When assembled, it can devour souls. Just the kind of cursed object Ethan salivates over. He gets the trash, I get paid. Win-win.”

“You know better than to bring cursed things during daylight! Rule number one: Keep magic stuff after hours!”

“I know,” he said smoothly. “But I have a hot date. Couldn’t wait.”

Tegan wrinkled her nose, unable to banish the unwanted...nope... not doing it! “So, you defanged someone for a date?” The teeth glimmered in her palm. Tiny golden caps etched with ancient power, steeped in ritual, blood, and godly intent.

She forced herself to stay neutral, even though she could hear the blood rushing in her ears.

“Did he feed on people? I mean… he was really old, right?”

Mordecai’s smirk didn’t falter.

Tegan pulled an ancient book of gods and myths from the shelf, flipping to hand-drawn Nahuatl symbols. She scowled at the illustrations that showed a figure extracting teeth and replacing them with glowing golden caps.

It was a ritual, clearly one steeped in very dark magic.

“Keep going,” his tone was smug as he tapped the page with thin, bone-like fingers. She shot him a dirty look, pushed his hand away from the book, and read the inscription. It matched perfectly.

A vampire in America with Aztec relics in its mouth. How?

She didn't take her eyes off the page when she spoke. "Cash or trade?" The faint hum of magic thrummed through the air between them. Tegan watched him carefully as he pulled a small, ornate vial from the pouch at his waist.

The glass caught the sunlight, glowing softly with a tiny amount of liquid inside, just barely enough for her to tell it was a deep emerald with shimmers of Gold. Lust
He tapped his chin in a slow deliberate way as he thought.

The silence stretched as she prepped the work and waited for Ethan to give her the go-ahead through Text.
Once her phone pinged with a thumb's up emoji, she signed the paper and stamped it with Ethan's official seal. “Do have one question, though. It's been bugging me."

"And what's that?"

"Why would you need our supply when you can make your own?"

"Honey, I’m just a farmer. I harvest, and Ethan makes the product, like milk, into Cheese.” Tegan felt her body tense as she processed what he had just said.

“So emotions are just the raw materials to make Essences?” She wouldn’t even touch on his analogy at this point. It was already clear that many Mythics considered humans a raw resource.

"Yes, unfortunately, Ethan is one of the few around here who knows how to do it." Because it was forbidden, technically, one of the perks of being exiled is that rules don’t really apply, especially when you scare almost anyone who would try to enforce them.

She was only half paying attention as she wrote notes down and waitied for him to just tell her what he wanted.

"I did get lust last time, maybe i should change it up a bit."

"wait.. Why would you need lust?"

“Well, I’m not exactly the most lively person, and that is in all aspects of my life.”

Tegan’s pen paused, leaving black ink spreading onto the paper in a splotchy, uneven spot. “Please, for the love of any gods listening, do not finish that sentence.”

He pouted.

"Just tell me, what do you want." She hissed through clenched teeth.Mordecai didn't answer. Instead, he just tapped his pale finger against the faded, hand-written label on the glass vial.

Tegan squinted at the elegant, sweeping cursive. “Amare et Furor...” She blinked, her brain deciding to pull a blank screen like she was a 1988 computer when she tried to sound out the archaic text.

"Well?"

“I can't fucking read this, Mordecai. It's in Latin!.”He chuckled, deciding to play coy. “It's the same as last time, but I want to trade this empty one in for a higher percentage. Bump the potency up a bit.”

Tegan took the empty glass carefully. Ethan had strict rules about the empty vials; they couldn't just be tossed in the trash. If a dumpster-diving raccoon or a random human got a taste of the leftover residue, it would end in an absolute bloodbath.

“Fine. But if you want a higher percentage, I have to check the history,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes. “What vintage did you get last time?”

“How am I supposed to know!”

“Don’t you have a ledger?” She paused, realizing he was right.Dammit.She huffed in agitation.

Ethan insisted on writing every single transaction down. Mordecai leaned forward, propping his elbows on the cold surface of the checkout counter, clearly enjoying her suffering.

“I’ll be right back.” She walked through the curtain. “Regis.” She whispered, popping her head into the workshop.

She tried not to look at her boss, the way the jeweler’s glass made his eyes ridiculously big, like big green blobs.

He blinked slowly “What?”

She glanced down the hall where Danni was working with inventory. “First, I need the safe keys and second...I put you know who into the glass cabinet.. Can you grab him?”

He pulled the keys out and handed them to her with a puzzled look. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Mordecai is out there.. So if you want to deal with him.”

“No..I’ll get Joseph.”

He followed her out. Looked at the doll with a tired sigh, unlocked the wheels, and rolled the glass Cabinet into the workshop, all the while Joseph was presumably cursing them out in Latin while pounding his fists against the Glass. The wheels squeaked softly as they disappeared.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Mordecai mused as he turned back to her.

Tegan ignored him, her thoughts on the bigger issue at hand. In the back office, she crouched down and opened the safe with the set of keys, the tiny doll in the next room letting out a muffled shriek

The ledger was heavy as she slammed it onto the counter. Ethan liked his records, and this book had shit from a hundred years ago documented in it.

“If you’re after a quick hit with a little after burn, I’d go with a fresh vintage; bright, hot, short-lived. We’ve got an ’04 Lust, lightly refined to twenty-five potency. The last one you picked up was a ’92 at fifteen, so this will kick harder and last a touch longer without losing the spark.”

“Great, sign me up for the Twenty-five. I'll be back late to pick it up.”

“Pick up is after five.”

Mordecai's dark eyes followed her as she turned around and pinned the paper to the little cork-board hanging behind the register. When she turned around, he was still there, still watching her with a curious expression.

Her grip tightened on the pen. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

"What happened to the cute little blonde?"

Tegan took a deep breath as she kept writing. She worked through several explanations in her head before stating simply. "She quit."

"Because of me?" Mordecai sounded amused.

"Because you're a creep." Tegan slapped the receipt on the counter and, with barely concealed contempt, snarled, "Pick up after five."

The bell rang as he left, and the shop felt too quiet afterward.
Tegan exhaled slowly and reached for the next order. The shop returned to its usual rhythm, the tick of the clock, Danni humming to herself as she shuffled things around in the back of the shop, boxes scraping along the tiles as she moved them into different piles.

Tegan felt herself relax as she wrapped the small jewelry box.

Normal.

This was normal.

Right?