It was Josse’s turn to fire up the coffee machine before the bar staff arrived, but this morning the barista and one of the waiters had beaten him to it.
The aroma of freshly ground beans hung in the air, mingling with the smoky scent of the logs that crackled in the fireplace. The venerable wooden tables had been polished to a deep sheen, and a large basket of pastries awaited the early birds, glazed pains au chocolat and rich couques au raisin piled in with fluffy croissants. The first lot of regulars would be along soon.
Everything seemed perfect at Jos Le Rêveur, and yet the two-member team seemed worried. Both vampires were staring at their mobiles with obvious concern, one rubbing his neck tattoo distractedly while the other was fiddling with the helix studs on his right ear.
“You’ve seen this, right?” The man with the dragon etched onto his skin held out his screen as he turned to face Josse.
“No. What is it? And good morning.”
“Oh, yeah, good morning!” Both frowns broke into a smile as the cheerful greeting was returned.
“Someone’s taking us down,” the inked waiter continued. Very little was visible of the impressive design – just one of the claws poking out of the man’s collar behind his left lobe, and the tip of a tail coiled around his right wrist. It was far too cold to show more of the fearsome beast, which held many a customer in thrall during tank top season.
Not that vampires minded a bit of a chill, but wildly unseasonal clothing wasn’t a great idea for a supernatural trying to avoid the wrong kind of attention.
“Ouch,” Josse replied as he scrolled through a stream of blistering reviews. “Oh, have you seen this one? That’s actually quite funny.”
“I liked the one about the dancing cockroaches,” said the barista. “Double espresso?”
“No thanks,” Josse replied. “I’m meeting Finette for breakfast. Any suggestions for how we deal with this mess?”
“Is it that suit you’d asked us to look out for?” There were no flies on Mr Barista. “Doesn’t matter, though. Whoever it is, we need to tread carefully. Document everything. Work out how to respond.”
“Time to set up that social media team,” the dragon took over. The one you keep saying we don’t need, he kindly didn’t add.
“I guess so,” Josse conceded. “Could you please tell the rest of the staff? I’ll get back to you later, but until we’ve decided how to respond please don’t engage with it.”
***
Adelphine had finished her muesli when he finally joined her. She gave him a quizzical look over the rim of her mug while he slid into his chair.
“Mr Obnoxious has made a new move,” he explained. “At least I suppose it’s him; who else would it be. Have a look at our latest reviews.”
She ran a few searches while he went to fetch coffee and pastries from the breakfast counter.
“He’s thorough,” she said. “And surprisingly creative. His comments on our steak-frites are pure gold.”
“We don’t sterve steak-frites.”
“I know. I’m the one not serving them.” Adelphine had gone vegetarian many decades ago, and she didn’t care whom this bothered while under her roof.
“I think we do finally need to put someone in charge of our social media. It’s not something I’m interested in learning about, and I suppose you aren’t either.”
In response, she just snorted.
“Minuit and Ingrid could work on this together, if Ingrid can find the time. She does have a job, after all.”
“How about we ask Jade for help? She’s eighteen, a digital native. She can probably deal with this kind of stuff without even thinking about it, and she needs something to do.”
“I don’t see how,” Josse objected as he slathered a pastry with apricot jam. “She’d have to come into the alley to coordinate with the others, and she’s still an outsider.”
“They could meet in her room, or on the second floor of the tavern – it’s quiet in the mornings, and we’ll find a way to explain Minuit.” Adelphine made a start on a plate of sliced fruit.
“OK. Why not. We need to talk about her plans anyway; she can’t just stay there in limbo.”
“I was wondering if she’d like a job at the tavern. The staff know to act normal, and she might enjoy it.”
“Why would we encourage her to stick around? We looked after her while she wasn’t well; she’s better now, and she’s not one of us. It’s risky to bring in a person who can’t know who we are.”
“There was a time when you weren’t one of us either.”
He chewed pensively, then asked the question that had been on his mind.
“What’s it to you? You’re not exactly a people person.”
“True. Most of the time I don’t like even you. But she reminds me of someone.”
“Let me guess.”
“Exactly. I was just like her at that age.”
You haven’t changed much, he thought. She grinned as if she had heard.
“OK, about Eric. Do you have any leads?”
“You go first. What have you found in your books?”
“Nothing useful. Apparently, when people thought about werewolves back in the day, healing them wasn’t their main concern. I did learn a lot about unicorn etiquette and the reproductive cycles of water sprites, though.”
“The committee hasn’t found anything new either, but I’ve had an idea. Remember how they said Eric’s bag was full of chocolate bar wrappers?”
“Yes. What about it?”
“Well, chocolate is toxic to dogs, so presumably also to wolves. I’m assuming it’s usually safe for werewolves because they’re mostly human, otherwise we’d know about it by now.”
“I guess.”
“That would be for normal consumption, but maybe not for the quantities Eric appears to have been eating. If the theobromine hit his system just as he transformed, maybe that messed with him somehow. Particularly – because this is where it gets interesting – as he was on antibiotics at the time. For an infected toenail, apparently.”
“I know you’re enjoying this, but you will have to explain.”
“OK. No one knows why werewolves go hairy at the full moon, and why they revert to human form at sunrise the following day.”
“I thought I was just the moonlight.”
“Well, it probably is, but still, how? What exactly happens? It must be linked to their body clock somehow, some combination of hormones or whatever triggering the transformations. The REVIENS team said that the few cases they’d heard of all involved low levels of light, but it can’t just be exposure to the morning sun. If it was, all the weres we used to keep safe underground would have stayed stuck.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So for all we know it may instead be some process involving vitamin D, either produced by soaking up sunlight or drawn from the body’s existing reserves. Which means that if those reserves are depleted, that could affect the process.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We know that people’s levels are typically lower in winter. We also know that stress can be a factor, and the weres say Eric was having problems at work. Which could be why he was suddenly gorging on chocolate.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And we know that some antibiotics can contribute as well, although the effect is usually minor.”
“So it could be a vitamin D deficiency combined with the effects of a chocolate binge, and the whole thing is somehow disrupting the process.”
“Et voilà.” Adelphine’s hands shot out sideways in triumph, palms up and elbows tucked to her ribs.
“Which means what? Is there something we can do without making it worse?”
“We could try activated charcoal and a vitamin D supplement, and I guess we should also perform that ritual the were elders recommended. Presumably it can’t hurt.”
“We’ll need to ask one of the elders to conduct it. Just to make sure we get all the howls right.”
It wouldn’t be the first time the hostel community had accidentally summoned a demon. He didn’t want any repeats.