Brenda looked at Jett, then at Murk, who was perched on her shoulder.

  "I am…also a Vampire," she said, her voice was calm and matter of fact.

  Jett's eyes widened.

  "A vampire? Seriously? What is this, monster meet up day?!"

  Brenda shook her head. "Not a Veschar, like you. But a Vampire nonetheless."

  Jett stared at her, trying to process this new information.

  "So…you're a Vampire, I'm…whatever I am, and we have a baby monster rat. This is definitely my life now."

  Brenda ignored his comment. "You said…the sun. It burns you?"

  Jett nodded. "Yeah, it feels like I'm cooking from the inside out. It's not fun."

  Brenda frowned. "That is…unusual. Veschar are resistant to sunlight. Not immune, but…highly resistant."

  She reached out and touched Jett's arm briefly.

  "Your skin…it is warm, but it is not burning. Not as much as it should be."

  Jett stared at her. "So, you're saying…I'm not as badly affected by the sun as I should be?"

  She nodded, and added:

  "Yes. Your resistance…it is…strong. Stronger than most Veschar that existed long ago."

  Jett blinked. "So, I'm like…a super-Veschar?"

  Brenda tilted her head. "The term is inelegant. But accurate."

  Jett grinned. "A super-Veschar with a baby monster rat and a robot Vampire teacher. My life is officially a comic book."

  Her lips twitched. "Perhaps…a very strange comic book."

  She stared at Jett, her violet eyes were thoughtful and contemplative:

  "You must understand," she said, "the world is not as…simple as it appears."

  Jett raised an eyebrow. "You mean there's more to it than pizza, monsters, and weird dreams?"

  Her lips twitched. "Indeed. There are…factions. Powers. Influences…beyond human comprehension."

  She paused, then continued:

  "The world of the supernatural is…complex. There is the Night Court, a powerful organization of vampires that holds considerable sway in this city."

  Jett frowned. "Vampires have a court? Like, a vampire government?"

  She nodded. "In a sense. They control much of the undercurrents of Washington D.C.'s politics. They have their own laws, their own agendas. They operate behind the public eye, pulling strings, influencing events."

  Jett stared at her. "So, vampires are running the city?"

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Brenda shrugged. "Not…entirely. But they are a force to be reckoned with."

  She paused, then added:

  "But the Night Court is not the only authority. There is also the Iron Crown."

  Jett blinked. "The Iron Crown? What's that?"

  Brenda's violet eyes lit up. "The Iron Crown…is more.. well, it is unknown if it is one entity, many, an organization, or merely an idea. But it governs all supernatural beings who are foolish enough to expose themselves to humanity."

  "So, they're like…the supernatural police?" Jett asked.

  She shook her head.

  "More like…the supernatural consequences. They deal with those who blatantly violate the secrecy of our world."

  "And what happens if you violate the secrecy?" Jett asked, his voice was hesitant.

  Brenda's violet eyes narrowed. "I do not know. No one knows. Those who attract the attention of the Iron Crown…disappear without a trace."

  Jett swallowed hard. "Okay, so…don't piss off the Iron Crown."

  Brenda nodded. "A wise decision. The Night Court…they are confined to Washington D.C. For now. But the Iron Crown…its reach is global. It operates outside of any human jurisdiction."

  Jett stared at her, his mind was reeling from this information.

  "So, there's a vampire court running the city, and a mysterious Iron Crown that controls the whole world? And I'm caught in the middle of all this?"

  Brenda's lips twitched. "It would appear so. Your life…is about to become…very interesting."

  Jett paused, a thought occurred to him.

  "Speaking of strange, I did…something weird after I turned into..this."

  She raised an eyebrow. "And what…strange thing…did you do?"

  Jett hesitated, feeling a bit embarrassed:

  "Well, I…sort of…drank from a squirrel."

  Brenda's violet eyes widened slightly. "You…drank from a squirrel?"

  Jett nodded. "Yeah. I was…really hurt. I crashed my bike in the woods, and I was all broken up. And then I woke up, and I was…really hungry. And there was this squirrel…"

  He trailed off, feeling awkward. "It was…a whole thing."

  Brenda stared at him for a moment, then tilted her head.

  "Veschar do not require blood. Not unless it is necessary."

  Jett frowned. "Necessary? What do you mean?"

  Her violet eyes narrowed. "Vampiric transformation…it is a violent process. It can…damage the body. Blood can…aid in healing."

  Jett blinked. "So, I drank the squirrel because I was hurt?"

  Brenda nodded. "Most likely. The hunger…it is a survival instinct. Your body knew what it needed."

  Jett stared at her, thinking about it.

  "So, I won't have to, like, go around drinking blood all the time?"

  Brenda shook her head:

  "No. Veschar…they can sustain themselves on normal food. Blood is only a supplement. Or a necessity in extreme cases."

  Jett sighed in relief. "That's…good to know. I was a little worried about becoming a full time bloodsucker."

  He paused, then a new question popped into his head.

  "Wait, so if I'm not a regular vampire…am I still going to age?"

  Brenda tilted her head, her violet eyes were studying him. "Veschar do age. But…at a much slower rate than humans."

  Jett frowned. "How much slower?"

  Brenda shrugged. "It varies. But a Veschar can live for centuries. Some…even longer."

  Jett's eyes widened. "Centuries? Seriously? So, I'm going to be, like, an immortal pizza delivery guy?"

  Brenda's lips twitched.

  "Perhaps…if you choose to remain a pizza delivery guy for centuries."

  Jett chuckled. "Yeah, probably not. But still, that's…a long time."

  He paused, then looked at Brenda, his expression was thoughtful.

  "So, you're a vampire, I'm a super Veschar, we have a baby monster rat, and I might live for centuries. My life just keeps getting weirder."

  Brenda's lips curled into a small smile.

  "Indeed. But…perhaps…it is not so bad."

  Jett sighed, then started pacing again.

  "Yeah, maybe not so bad for you. You're a cool vampire lady. I'm still just…me. And I have to deal with all this…stuff. On top of everything else."

  Her eyebrows rose slightly out of curiosity.

  "Everything else?"

  Jett nodded. "Yeah. You know. The usual stuff. The stuff that was already making my life a mess before monsters started showing up."

  He stopped pacing and looked at Brenda, his expression was frustrated.

  "I have…anxiety. A lot of it. Social anxiety, mainly. I'm always worried about what people think of me, if I'm saying the right things, if I'm being weird. And I'm always overthinking everything. It's exhausting."

  He ran a hand through his hair, it was a habit whenever he felt stressed.

  "And now I have to deal with vampires, and monster rats, and possibly living for centuries? It's like my brain is going to explode. I'm already stressed enough as it is, now I have to worry about the Iron Crown and the Night Court? It's too much."

  She watched him, her violet eyes were unreadable.

  "You are concerned about how your…condition…will affect your supernatural life?"

  Jett nodded.

  "Yeah! I mean, it's not like I can just turn off my anxiety. It's always there. And now I have to worry about it in a whole new context. What if I freak out in front of a vampire? What if my anxiety makes me look weak? What if the Iron Crown judges me for being…weird?"

  He sighed again. "It's just…a lot to deal with. I was already struggling, and now I have all this extra stuff to worry about. I don't know if I can handle it."

  Brenda's expression softened slightly.

  "Your anxiety…it is a part of you. It does not define you. And it does not make you weak."

  Jett stared at her - a strange feeling permeated inside him. He felt understood. Something he wasn't used to.

  "You're…the first person to ever say that to me," he said.

  He paused, then continued:

  "Mr. Pyre just yells at me to hurry up and stop being weird. And Marco…he just makes fun of me. He calls me 'jittery Jett' and laughs when I stumble over my words."

  He shook his head. "No one's ever…tried to understand. They just want me to be normal. But I'm not normal. And I don't think I ever will be."

  He looked at Brenda, his brown eyes met her violet eyes. "But you…you don't seem to care. You're not trying to fix me. You're just…accepting it."

  Brenda tilted her head. "I see no need to…fix what is not broken. Your anxiety…it is a part of you. It may be a challenge, but it is also…a strength. It makes you…who you are."

  Jett stared at her, a strange feeling of…understanding washed over him. It was a new feeling - and a welcome one. But then, as quickly as it came, it was replaced by an ecstatic attitude.

  "Alright!"

  Jett exclaimed, his voice suddenly got loud and energetic. He clapped his hands together.

  "So, you're going to help me? You're going to train me? We're going to learn how to fight? This is awesome!"

  He started doing jumping jacks, his enthusiasm was bubbling over.

  "I'm ready! I'm pumped! I'm going to be the best damn Veschar there ever was!"

  Brenda stared at him, her violet eyes widened slightly at his sudden burst of energy.

  The corner of her lips curved up into a smile.

  "Perhaps…we should start with the basics."