The Crossroads Tavern looked exactly the same.

  Same worn wooden bar I'd polished a thousand times. Same tall windows letting in Salem's grey afternoon light. Same comfortable weight of familiarity that made my chest ache with something I couldn't quite name.

  I'd been gone less than a week. It felt like years. I guess that happens when you have three near death experiences in that amount of time. Can anyone really say that? Or is this just a me thing?

  Javi looked up from where he was prepping ingredients for the evening service, dicing onions with the kind of meditative focus that came from decades of kitchen work. His weathered face broke into a grin when he saw us.

  "Mac! Garrick!" He set down his knife and came around the bar, pulling me into a hug that smelled like cooking oil and Old Spice. "How was Prague?"

  "It was..." I paused, trying to find words that wouldn't be a complete lie but also wouldn't reveal anything Samuel had forbidden us from sharing. "Educational. Different. Intense."

  "Did you solve the case?"

  "Yeah. We found the missing ghost and we stopped the person responsible." All technically true. I left out everything else, of course, Pavel's execution, Samuel's manipulation, the darkness I'd witnessed in that basement. Javi didn’t need those details. Hell, I didn’t even want to bare them myself, to be honest.

  "Good, good." Javi squeezed my shoulder. "You look tired, kid. Why don't you take it easy tonight? I’ll handle the place."

  "Actually, I'd like to cook. If that's okay," I said. I needed the zen that only cooking gave me.

  Something in my voice made Javi study me more carefully. "Yeah. Of course. Kitchen's all yours."

  Garrick had settled onto one of the bar stools, looking perfectly at home himself. "I'll just stay out of the way. Maybe meditate."

  "You do that." Javi returned to his prep work. "Mac, there's fresh eggs in the walk-in. Bread from this morning. Whatever you need."

  I moved into the kitchen…my kitchen…even though it was technically Javi's, and let the familiar space settle around me like a comfortable coat. Stainless steel surfaces. The smell of gas burners and seasoned cast iron. The weight of good knives in the knife block.

  It was simple. It was natural, and there wasn’t a speck of magic or supernatural whackiness to be found. I needed that right now.

  I pulled out eggs, butter, bread. Nothing fancy. Nothing that required complicated technique or exotic ingredients. Just breakfast food, made well, made with care.

  The eggs cracked clean. The butter foamed golden in the pan. The bread toasted to exactly the right shade of golden brown. My hands moved through the familiar motions while my mind drifted back to Prague. To Pavel's ashes on the floor. To Samuel draining his own childe without hesitation.

  To the realization that we'd been tools in Samuel's cleanup operation. Convenient solutions to an inconvenient problem. Then I forced myself to clear my head, and get focus back on my pan. Was this what it was going to be like? Shaking the shreds of nightmares, even in my favorite activities?

  The eggs were done. I plated them simply: scrambled eggs with butter and fresh herbs, toast with jam, a side of bacon I'd crisped to perfection. Nothing special. Nothing that would impress a Michelin star chef or win over vampire nobility.

  Just honest food. Made with honest to goodness intentions. I carried the plate to the bar and sat next to Garrick. Javi raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, just poured me a coffee without being asked.

  A regular customer, Tom, one of the local wolfpack who came in every Thursday, wandered over. "Hey Mac. Heard you were traveling. How was Prague?"

  "Good," I said, taking a bite of eggs. "Beautiful city. Great food."

  "See anything interesting?"

  I thought about underground vampire estates. About ghost councils and cooking competitions and being drained nearly to death while trapped in a cage.

  "The architecture was amazing," I said. "Really old. Lots of history."

  Tom nodded, satisfied with the mundane answer, and returned to his table.

  Garrick was watching me carefully. Not saying anything, just... present. Available if I needed to talk.

  "I keep thinking about Pavel," I said quietly, so only he could hear. "About what he said. That he never chose to become a vampire. That Samuel created the bond that enslaved him."

  "Yeah, that one is sticking with me too," Garrick admitted, “Sadly…it’s not the first time I’ve heard a vampire say that.”

  "He was right, then? About the feeding bond being that powerful?"

  Garrick was quiet for a moment. "Yes. The bond created between vampire and victim is... profound. Addictive. It's why vampire feeding is so dangerous, not just physically, but psychologically. The victim craves it. Wants it. Would do almost anything to experience it again. You were lucky in that you only had to deal with it a couple days. Some people go their entire lives. They’ll do anything for the one that fed on them over time.”

  "Like Pavel wanted to be turned," I said.

  "Like Pavel felt he had to be turned, or spend the rest of his life craving something he could never have again." Garrick turned his coffee cup in his hands. "Samuel knew that when he fed on Pavel. He had to have known."

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  I pushed my eggs around my plate. "And then he killed him for becoming what he made him."

  "Welcome to vampire politics. It's ugly all the way down," Garrick said, and saluted with his coffee cup before taking another sip.

  "But we still saved Dorota. That matters, right? We saved her."

  "It matters." Garrick's voice was firm. "It matters a lot. She would have died, truly, permanently died if we hadn't found her. That's not nothing, Mac. That's huge. If it’s one thing I’ve learned over the centuries, is just how much every being’s life matters in the grand scheme of things. You’d never realize it, but one person’s effort and impact can echo for decades or even hundreds of years in ways you could never imagine."

  "Yeah. I get it. It's just..." I set down my fork. "I thought helping people would feel better than this. More clear-cut. Good guys win, bad guys lose, everyone goes home happy."

  "Sometimes it works that way. Sometimes you save someone and they throw you a parade. Sometimes you stop a war and everyone's grateful." Garrick took a sip of coffee. "And sometimes you save someone and the politics around it make everything complicated. Make you question whether the victory was worth the cost."

  "Was it? Worth it?"

  "Ask Dorota. Ask Petr, who'll get to see his friend again. Ask the Ghost Council, who don't have to fear being hunted anymore." He met my eyes. "Ask yourself if you'd make the same choice, knowing how it would turn out."

  Would I? If I could go back to that moment in The Crossroads when Garrick offered me this partnership, knowing everything that would happen? The near-deaths, the vampire bond, the darkness, the bitter political victories…would I still say yes?

  I thought about Dorota thanking us. About the Ghost Council's standing ovation after I'd cooked for them. About Marek offering his friendship. About learning that my people-reading skills could actually make a difference in situations of life and death.

  About stepping through a portal to another world.

  "Yeah," I said. "I think I would."

  Garrick smiled. "Good. Because the offer for Tellareth still stands. Fair starts in three days. If you want to come."

  Three days. Enough time to rest. To process. To remember what normal felt like before diving back into the supernatural chaos.

  "Tell me about it," I said. "About Tellareth."

  "It's a trade city. Sits on the coast of one of three major continents in the world of Gifrandia, it’s also a natural hub for commerce between worlds. They host a summer fair every year: vendors from hundreds of different realms selling goods, food, art, magic." His eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm. "The food alone is worth the trip. Things you've never imagined. Flavors that don't exist on Earth."

  "Sounds amazing."

  "It is. But it's also chaotic. All those different cultures, different species, different power structures crammed into one city?" He shrugged. "Problems tend to arise. Disputes. Conflicts. People who need help."

  "And that's where we come in."

  "Sometimes. If we're lucky. Or unlucky, depending on your perspective."

  I finished my eggs, thinking. Another world. More danger, probably. More situations where I'd be the powerless human in a room full of beings who could kill me with a thought.

  But also more people to help. More problems to solve. More cultures to experience.

  More adventures that would make Prague look tame.

  "I'll have my bags packed by morning," I said.

  Garrick's grin was brilliant. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah." I stood, collected my plate. "But first, I'm going to cook dinner service tonight. Remember what it's like to just make food for people who love to wind their days down here. To do something simple and good."

  "Sounds perfect," Garrick smiled.

  That evening, I worked the kitchen alongside Javi. We fell into the old rhythm, him on the grill, me on sauté and apps. Orders came in. We executed them. Plates went out. Customers were happy.

  Simple. Uncomplicated. Exactly what I needed.

  A selkie ordered the fish special. A pair of storm wraiths wanted something spicy. A vampire (not one of Samuel's people, thank the gods) just a regular customer, requested the steak, rare.

  I made the food. They ate it. No politics. No manipulation. No one dying or being executed.

  Just the fundamental exchange of hospitality that made civilization possible.

  Around eleven, when the dinner rush had slowed and we were cleaning up, Javi leaned against the counter beside me.

  "You okay, kid?"

  "Getting there," I admitted.

  "Prague was rough?" Javi could always read me like a book.

  "Yeah. But I learned a lot. About the supernatural world. About vampire politics. About..." I paused, trying to articulate it. "About how complicated helping people can be. How victory doesn't always feel like victory."

  "That's the way of it sometimes." Javi squeezed my shoulder. "You still did good. Still made a difference. Don't let the complications steal that from you."

  "I'm trying not to," I sighed with a tired smile.

  "And Garrick? He treating you right? Keeping you safe?"

  I thought about Garrick taking a bullet meant for me. About him being drained nearly to death while I lay helpless beside him. About the protection ward he'd spent hours creating.

  "He's a good partner," I said. "We cover each other's blind spots."

  "Good. That's what you need out there." Javi paused. "You're going back out, aren't you? With him. More adventures."

  "Yeah. If that's okay," I said, and couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt.

  "Mac, you don't need my permission. This place will always be here. Your spot will always be here. I told you that. But you?" He smiled. "You were meant for bigger things than this bar. I knew it the first day you walked in here, looking for scraps."

  "This bar gave me everything, Javi. Taught me everything," I made sure to meet his eyes. I could never thank this man enough for what he’d given me.

  "And now you're taking what you learned and using it to help people across the supernatural world. Maybe even across multiple worlds, knowing Garrick." He pulled me into another hug. "I'm proud of you, kid. So proud."

  We finished cleaning in comfortable silence. When everything was put away and the Tavern was ready for tomorrow's opening, I went upstairs to the small apartment Javi let me keep even though I barely used it anymore.

  I sat on the bed and pulled out my notebook. The one I'd planned on using to document everything. The cooking competition. The investigation. Pavel's execution. All of it. I wanted something to tell what was already starting out as an incredible story.

  A Cook's Guide to Cosmic Adventures, I'd titled it.

  I added a new entry. Not about the food or the investigation. Just about the lesson I'd learned.

  "Not every problem has a clean solution. Not every victory feels like winning. Sometimes you save someone and the cost is watching darkness you can't fix. Sometimes you do everything right and the politics still make it ugly.

  But you still saved someone. That still matters.

  And as long as it matters, you keep going."

  I closed the notebook and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

  Three days until Tellareth.

  Three days to remember what normal felt like.

  Three days to prepare for whatever came next.

  I closed my eyes and smiled. The adventure was just beginning.

  The End of Season 1…of this story.

  Stay tuned for the premier of Season 2 on Tuesday, 1/27!