Zara strode around Borgin and Burke’s, looking for nothing in particular. Sometimes she would come into the shop to offload an item from a job that she either collected by happenstance when hunting for another item or if the person who hired her for the job decided afterwards that they no longer wanted to pay. Today, though, she was simply looking around.
Some items on the dusty shelves moved quickly, but others had been there for ages. Though she didn’t visit on a regular basis, Zara visited often enough to see items that she had sold to them be moved around. She always found it interesting when an item that would traditionally be stored on the back shelves was moved to the front window.
It had been ten minutes since the other patron entered the shop. They were the only two in the store at that moment; whoever was working the floor that day left several minutes ago, presumably to get something from the back. Zara wasn’t sure if the other person thought they were being inconspicuous or if they knew that she was aware of their stolen glances at her, but either way, Zara had had enough.
“Are you going to say something or just keep silently looking at me?” Zara set down the locket she had been handling and made direct eye contact with the other patron. “I’m not going to bite.” It was her favourite line to use. Since her fangs were usually shaved down or cloaked, no one ever understood the irony.