Maisie glanced at the window, noticing the almost-full moon shining brightly. "Until the blood moon crests in the sky."
As if orchestrated for dramatic effect, the lights in the pub flickered momentarily, casting strange shadows across the worried faces of Cauldron Falls' residents.
"A spray tanned vampire with a comb-over?" someone whispered.
"Who'd believe such a thing?" answered another.
However, the presence of the dead bat, undeniable evidence of something strange, shifted the atmosphere from doubt to worried apprehension. In the magical town of Cauldron Falls, where the unexpected was commonplace, a vampiric invasion led by a self-absorbed fashionista now seemed plausible.
For Sale: One Town (Vampire Friendly)
The next morning Tandy Keyes stood in her deserted real estate office, "Keyes Properties: Magical Homes for Magical Folks," and stared glumly at her empty appointment book. Dust motes danced in the morning sunbeams slanting through grimy windows, highlighting neglected property listings with curled and faded edges.
"Another day, another zero commissions," she muttered, fluffing her over-teased hair with fingers sporting long acrylic nails painted with miniature house designs---a detail she thought would impress clients, if any ever appeared.
Her office walls were covered with outdated listings and motivational posters with phrases like "SALE rhymes with KALE! Both are good for you!" and "Your attitude determines your altitude!" But most telling were the magazines scattered across her desk---not the usual Magical Homes Monthly or Witches' Abodes, but titles like "Vampires After Dark" and "Immortal Living: Eternity in Style."
Underneath the magazines was something far more precious: a leather journal with "Everett Falls" embossed on it, belongingto one of Cauldron Falls' original founders. Tandy had "forgotten" to return it after listing the old Falls estate six months ago. Although the empty house remained unsold, the journal's value far surpassed any potential commission.
Tandy picked up the latest vampire magazine, featuring a luxurious night club with the headline "Vampire Vacation Hotspots: Where The Eternal Go To Play." She sighed dreamily.
"That could be Cauldron Falls," she whispered, trailing a finger over the glossy images of impossibly beautiful vampires lounging by moonlit pools. "So much money... so little business sense... perfect clients."
She turned to the vision board she'd created on her office wall---magazine cutouts of mansions labeled "My Future Vampire Commission" and "Eternal Clients = Eternal Income!" surrounded crude drawings of herself standing atop a pile of gold coins. At the top, in glittery letters: "Tandy Keyes: Vampire Real Estate Queen!"
"No, too on-the-nose," she muttered, grabbing a marker to cross out the title. She scribbled a new one: "Tandy Keyes: Eternal Homes Specialist!"
Her reverie was interrupted by the distinctive jingle of her doorbell, which played "For Sale" to the tune of "New York, New York." Tandy hurriedly shoved the vampire magazines into a drawer and pushed a potted plant in front of her vision board.
Instead of a client, it turned out to be the mailman delivering another stack of bills. Tandy's smile vanished as she flipped through the papers: mortgage payments for her three empty vacation rentals, office rent overdue by three weeks, and a final warning from the Magical Properties Association threatening to withdraw her license for "failing to maintain minimum quarterly sales."
"I need a break," she groaned, slumping into her creaky office chair. "Just one good commission. Is that too much to ask?"
She retrieved her Falls journal, turning to the page --- one she'd read countless times --- where Everett Falls' notes on the waterfall's special properties were recorded.
The waters possess remarkable adaptability to magical creatures of all kinds. When freely given, it strengthens inherent abilities and mitigates natural weaknesses. My experiments with various beings confirm its potential to temporarily neutralize even the most fundamental limitations of magical species.
With her finger still tracing the passage, Tandy paused at a heavily underlined warning on the next page.
However, I must emphasize that the falls' magic cannot be forced or stolen, she read aloud. When taken against the will of Cauldron Falls' protectors, the water becomes inert---or worse, actively harmful to the taker. This safeguard appears to be woven into the very essence of the falls, perhaps by the founding witches themselves.
Tandy frowned at this complication. Ronald hadn't mentioned anything about the water needing to be "freely given." This could be valuable leverage in their negotiations---information she would keep to herself for now.
"A loophole," she murmured, a calculating gleam in her eyes. "Every magical property has one, and this might be my ace in the hole when it comes to commission negotiations. If I'm the only one who knows how to properly access the water's power...Finally, something those red-haired healing witches didn't know. Something that could make me indispensable instead of invisible.”
She carefully marked the page with a sticky note emblazoned with "EXCLUSIVE LISTING OPPORTUNITY" in her own handwriting. This was the kind of insider information that could make her indispensable to Ronald's plan---and significantly improve her position in the vampire resort hierarchy.
"Not just Minister of Real Estate," she whispered, "but Chief Magical Water Consultant. I wonder if that comes with a corner office too?"
Tandy tapped her fingers together in thought for a few minutes. Her steely eyes roamed around her office and landed on the picturesque village just beyond the large picture window alongside the front door.
"If only they'd respected me," she muttered, thinking of the witches and warlocks who'd dismissed her abilities, who'd suggested she pursue a "less magical" career like real estate. "If they'd just given me a chance---"
Her bitter thoughts seemed answered when her magical mirror, typically used for virtual property tours, started to glow an eerie red. Tandy paused briefly before rushing to pull down the office blinds and secure the door.
"Reveal yourself," she demanded, her voice low with expectation.
The mirror's surface rippled like disturbed water, then cleared to reveal a figure sitting in what appeared to be a dimly lit cave decorated incongruously with beach-themed items---plastic palm trees, surfboards, and a neon sign reading "Fangs & Tan Lines."
