“I dunno. Maybe this attack is a distraction from some other dastardly vampire plan?” I ranted, pretending to be mentally coerced by the Skinwalker Charmchain into the conversation. “Maybe they ran out of bullets because their compound was blown up by the Frontenachii?”

  I took a nervous breath. Looked at the extra-annoyed Galateya. Looked at Keiy. Looked at Count Chocula’s remains twitching slightly. Looked at the frozen customers. Looked at Fennel blocking the exit.

  Yep. I had nothing else wise to output.

  Then I heard footsteps on the stairs leading to the second floor and tower reading room.

  Heavy footsteps of leather boots. Coming down.

  Marya's ears rotated toward the sound. Fennel frowned.

  A third voice called from above. Female. Amused. "Mimi! Fin! You started the party without me? Rude!"

  A woman descended the stairs. She wore a plaid skirt and a black tank top that said "CRYPTID ENERGY" in faded, colorful letters. She had brilliant, sky-blue eyes, freckles and wildly vibrant, red hair.

  "Oh fun," the newcomer said, surveying the destruction. "Vampires, dragons, and—" she sniffed the air, "—guns. Did someone order the interdimensional warfare combo platter?"

  "Sage," Marya growled. "This doesn't concern you. Go back upstairs.”

  "Really? Because I'm pretty sure anything that happens in Cascade in terms of vamps concerns the entire Pack." Sage hopped down the last three stairs. "And sis, you know what mom said about eating interdimensional visitors in public. S’ bad for tourism."

  “I’m not eating anyone in public!” Marya stated.

  “You’re drooling pretty bad and intently staring at that thar’ Omnid dragon cutie and her… Bulk Hogan date,” Sage pointed out with a chortle. “Come on, sis, un-wolf yourself and tell the customers to go home.”

  "These assholes staged a fake vampire attack in my cafe!" Marya pointed an accusing finger at me and Galateya.

  Yep, she had creepy, web-bone, extra-elongated fingers now, the bone-sword and hammer gone.

  "Did they?" Sage looked genuinely delighted. "That's adorable. Why? You two are some kinda interdimensional pranksters? Wait. Am I being recorded?" She sniffed the air and then stared at Keiy. “Yeah, definitely being recorded. Hi, whoever’s watching this. I consent to being pranked and being cast across the Omniverse!”

  “Sage!” Marya hissed as the redhead skipped over to her with plaid skirt flutters and jiggle of chain-hoops on her belt featuring a large “SOUL-NOM-U” belt buckle. A dark choker sat on her neck with the words “CORNFIELD CASANOVA” embossed into the leather.

  I could see why they kept her upstairs. Her outfit, sparkling, unnaturally vibrant-red hair and heart-stopping face outed her out from the crowd at a single glance like the girl in the red dress from the Matrix.

  “I didn’t stage shit and I’m not here to prank anyone,” Galateya growled, mane turning into icicles. “I came here to relax and enjoy books and coffee!”

  "Indeed,” I nodded. “We came here for coffee and croissants. The vampires showing up was just unfortunate timing. I'd rate the morning a solid six out of ten. Great coffee, terrible carnage. Shocking revelations. Unexpected Skinwalker friends."

  "You don't smell very shocked, Ash," Marya stated sharply.

  Ah, I am exposed. Guess the gigachad prosthetics don’t hide my Astral imprint that well from Skinwalker noses or whatever.

  “Friends?!” Galateya’s violet eyes snapped to me.

  “Potential friends,” I smiled at Sage and Marya. “I’m... already friends with Marya. She came to my grandpa’s funeral. Honestly, I had no idea that she was a Skinwalker. Are you guys local or did your family use a dimensional gate to get to Cascade recently?”

  "Oh I like him," Sage whispered conspiratorially, elbowing Marya. "Mimi, can we keep him?"

  "No," Marya said flatly.

  "Please? I'll feed him protein shakes and walk him every day to the gym."

  "Sage!"

  “Nobody’s keeping him,” Galateya growled, tail wrapping around me. “He’s my consort.”

  “Rawr, what a possessive Captain Smolder,” Sage laughed, putting her hand around Marya's shoulder. “Come on, sis, chill out. You don’t want interdimensional cable to show us as uncouth ruffians, right? I mean, yeah, we’re basically backwoods beans in terms of Omniverse importance, but you don’t need to lean into it so hard.”

  “You’re a plaid possum is what you are,” Fennel commented.

  “Guilty as charged,” Sage curtsied.

  Marya’s fucked up inside-out wolf-ness lessened further, brown fur sinking into her body and turning into curly brown hair, extra muscles melting in, wolf-skull folding into a cute, extra-pretty human face dotted with freckles.

  “All humans, except for Ash, leave,” she ordered with the extra-resonant voice. “There was a… a fire alarm that went off so you had to leave. You will not remember any details other than a very boring, false fire alarm event. You will receive free drinks for the inconvenience tomorrow. The cafe is closed for today.”

  Marya walked over to the front door and flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. Propping the door open with her boot she watched as customers began to emerge from their booths, departing from the café with glassy eyes.

  Sage smoothly slid over to our booth and offered me her hand. “Sanguine Raelle Vale,” she introduced herself. I noticed that a friendship-style bracelet sat on her wrist with “MOONJUICE BANDIT” spelled in colorful letters.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Ashcroft Clifford,” I shook her hand. Her skin felt unnaturally soft and she smelled like summer rain and freshly baked bread.

  Sage kept her hand up facing Galateya. Galateya squinted at me, then at the offered hand, not moving.

  “This is my dragon Lady Galateya,” I said. “And that’s our lovely gun unit, Keiy.”

  “Charming.” Sanguine put her hand down and slid into our booth and rested her chin on her arms. “So, Ash, why do you look like… Shred Zeppelin?”

  She looked even prettier up close. Too pretty. The sunlight breaking through the window ignited her red, curly hair. Her smile was absolutely heart stopping, each freckle perfectly framing her far-too disarming, wide, ocean-blue eyes.

  “Why do you look like you came out of a Photoshopped movie poster?” I fired back.

  “Touche,” Sanguine laughed jovially. “That’s ‘cus, I’m a Skinwalker Omnid. My Phase-Shift adjusts itself to match optimal observer expectations.”

  “Ah. Well, this is my Lord Constantine Belthys face,” I said. “It’s for… special occasions.”

  “Special occasions… liiiiiike?” the redhead asked.

  “Like public relations and surviving vampire assassination attempts.” I stated. “It’s basically a rental face. Comes with its own ego.”

  Sanguine snorted. “So you’re leasing masculinity by the hour?”

  “Only on weekends.” I smiled. “On weekdays, I downgrade to ‘guy who forgets to take chicken out of the freezer.’”

  Quit flirting with everyone! Galateya’s glare stated.

  I’m not flirting, I'm collecting strategic Skinwalker-reconnaissance! I tried to express back.

  Galateya's tail tightened around my waist harder. A gentle reminder that I belonged to her. Or a threat. It was hard to tell with her.

  The inside-out-bear folded himself into a slightly nerdy-looking, handsome, skinny-fit dark haired, blue eyed man in his late 20s. He went into a closet and returned with a large broom and started sweeping fake vampire remnants into a corner with a weary expression.

  Sage tilted her head, inhaling deep. "You're radiating... hmmmm. Magisteel-circuits-Vamp-fusion smell. Very thick. But underneath..." She leaned closer, sniffing. "Human. Mmmm… Something else too. Can't quite place it…”

  "Probably anxiety," I said. "I have a lot of that."

  Sanguine laughed. The sound was definitely tuned-up, optimized to maximum charm. "You're Archie Clifford's grandson?"

  "That's me."

  "I remember you." Her disarming, blue eyes sparkled, lit from within. "Skinny kid. Always reading. Used to sit in the tower… right below my room with your… Wendigo friend."

  My heart skipped. "Wendigo friend?"

  "Mhmmm. The dark-skull girl in the sparkly dress."

  Ah fuck. "You could see her?"

  "Yep." Sanguine grinned. “We could all see her. Skinwalker eyes can bypass basic holofractal glamours. Part of our whole deal. It was… cute how she pretended to be your doggo in town. Cute how you’ve read books to her. I… wanted to reveal myself to you two, you know. But I was pretty shy back then and mom told me to stay upstairs… cus’ I’m bad at… uhh… social situations involving humans."

  Her freckles slid around ever so slightly, spelling out words. Her right cheek said “BITE” and left cheek said “ME”.

  I chortled. Galateya let out a bothered huff.

  “What? Is there something on my face?” Sanguine raised an eyebrow and massaged her cheeks. The words broke apart into random freckles.

  Marya finished shoving vampire chunks into a few trash bags. She looked fully human now. Brown hair in a messy bun. Cute freckles. Green apron. Still radiating murder. "We… knew. The whole Pack knew about you and your Wendigo pal, Ash.”

  “Mare thought you were gonna get eaten eventually,” Fennel commented. “We had a betting pool going."

  "A betting pool on my death?" I asked.

  "Yeah. You hung out with her, being all friendly." Sanguine said teasingly. "Classic snack behavior. We figured one day she'd snap and chomp. But nope. You're still here."

  "How many Skinwalkers are in Cascade?" Galateya demanded, deciding to go on the offensive.

  "Enough," Marya said flatly.

  "That's not an answer," the Taniwha growled.

  Sage tapped the table with four fingers, each long, stylized nail painted in a different color.

  Marya crossed her arms, not noticing what Sage was doing. "Look, dragon girl. We've had a peaceful arrangement with the vamps here for decades. Everyone stayed in their lane. Then you Frontenachii arrived and blew the vampire compound to bits. Now we've got half-baked vamps making fake attacks in our cafe for some fucking reason. You two..." She glared at us. "Whatever you're planning, it better not mess up our territory."

  "We're not planning anything," I said, planning far too many things in the Backend of my mind.

  "Bullshit," Marya snapped. "You show up wearing a reinforced magitek frame. Your dragon girlfriend packs a Frontenachii symbiote gun. You walk into my cafe looking like a recruitment poster. Then vampires attack with a fake truck bomb and empty guns. That's not a coincidence!”

  "Maybe the vampires are just really bad at attacking?" I suggested.

  Sanguine snorted. "Nice try. But Mimi's right. This whole thing smells like a biiiiig fake prank. Question is..." She leaned forward, blue eyes locked on mine, curvy cleavage on display. "What was it for? Who’s watching us through that gun?”

  I sighed, the Frontend of my mind melting into pure obedience from how impossibly pretty she was. Galateya’s glare was drilling a hole in my head.

  “I’ll tell you the truth later, if you work with me,” I offered.

  “Work with you on… what?” Sage leaned forward even more.

  “I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’ve never met Skinwalkers before. I’ve yet to understand your Omnitype skills and downsides. I don’t even know my Taniwha dragon that well yet.” I glanced at Teya. “We only met this week.”

  “Why exactly would we work with a Taniwha Omnid and her kobold?” Marya asked.

  My mind suddenly wobbled sideways. The Backend and Frontend split into two as the Emperor Gun Unit reactivated. Functioning in two places at once wasn’t something that humans were designed for, but then again I wasn’t an average human. Whatever Shady had done to my head as a kid nearly permanently cleaved me in half.

  In the cafe, Constantine Belthys sat across from a disarming Skinwalker girl.

  In Admiral Evelithria's capital ship, the Emperor of Earth's ‘corpse’ was being carried through dark metal corridors by Marshal Commandant Nexxali Everrim following the Admiral who was carrying the dead body of Shady. Our final destination was ahead of us.

  The split consciousness made my skull throb. It was akin to trying to listen to two conversations simultaneously, each demanding my full attention. This was a problem.

  The Backend processed the sensation of being carried, ready to snap into action at a moment's notice.

  The Frontend-me was alone in the cafe now. What remained in Constantine's head was just... me. Ashcroft Clifford. No supernatural multitasking. No perfect emotional control. No faraday cage against magical bullshit.

  Which meant the Charmchain magic radiating from Sanguine's ridiculously perfect face burrowed into me without stopping. Her smile hit me like an ice cream truck without brakes and I felt myself drifting to magical Isekai land of whimsical waifus who promised warm hugs and kisses. My pants suddenly felt very tight.

  God damn it.

  I closed my eyes, but I still saw her smiling, extremely photogenic face in front of me, heard her PERFECT breathing, imagined the BITE ME spelled on her cheeks and wanted to cry out “YES PLEASE!”

  Keeping myself actively split between two places was a problematic task when interacting with the unexpected sexy Skinwalker inquisition.