The mall at the center of town was just further evidence that this place was dying. There were vacant signs hanging in windows and peeling posters advertising parties with dates long passed. Hell, it closed at 7.

It didn't make any sense. There were underdwellers everywhere, so there were certainly enough customers for businesses to be profitable. He clung to the storefronts, avoiding the crowds of mixed mortals hurrying outside, and realized what the issue was.

All of the stores sold garbage.

He could see the scratchiness in the clothing through the glass matted with fingerprints. Sure, clothes like this wouldn't bother a mortal, but the more astute senses of underdwellers would go mad in cheap fabric.

Good gods, where was he going to replace his shirt?

This was all that witch's fault!

The underdwellers in this town were suffering, even if they were too stupid to realize it. He ought to report the lazy marshals in this town for letting it get this bad. An elven boy walked out of the store ahead of him with a bag hanging in his hands full of those awful mortal clothes.

"You," he said and pointed to the bag. "Did you really buy those?"

The elf took a half-step, looked at the bag, and then measured Evan up and down.

"I didn't steal these. Need to see my receipt?"

Evan looked away. Those damn clothes weren't even worth the effort of stealing. Yeah, somehow he'd have to send word to his father about this. Once he left town, that is. The underdwellers here were being robbed. Worse than robbed, tortured. Being forced to wear rags, being stabbed with magic, how anyone could have a smile in this place was mind-boggling.

He stood outside a lingerie store decorated in hot pink polyester. The poor mannequin in the window was dressed head to toe in the stuff, prime and very ready for an infection of some kind. He scratched his neck and tried to make sense of it.

"Hey." The voice was high and airy. He turned around. Two female underdwellers, a siren and a...fae? Some kind of mix. Judging by her feet, part ogre maybe, but judging by her smell, likely a werewolf.

"Excuse me," he said and walked away from the storefront.

"Wait a sec!" the siren called out and it rang between his ears. He looked back at them both. They wore matching sets, likely something from one of these stores bent on filling landfills. Wherever they got the mortal surgeries to plug their lips and strip their noses were likely by the same back alley surgeon too.

"Can I help you?" he said and didn't mean it.

"Oh," the ogre mix giggled. "We were actually wondering if we could help you."

"Yeah, we can model that lingerie better than those mannequins."

They leaned forward and gave him a wink.

He nearly doubled over laughing.

"Trust me, that junk won't do you any favors either. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if these stores were shut down in a few months. We'll all be better off for it."

They didn't call for him again, so he walked out of the mall without wasting his money and headed toward the beach and another problem.

No matter how awful it was, he needed to stay at least another month. So no malls. He could do something else. He looked up and down the empty streets and all he found was a bar. Gods, he was not going to spend the night trying to get drunk on mortal booze alone, not yet.

Evan hadn't realized how insanely boring this place would be once he woke up. It used to be full of life, cold weather or otherwise. What happened to the clubs that used to populate the east end? From what he could tell, there were less than five night hot spots in town now. With so little breathing room, that would mean the underdwellers would be highly concentrated in those areas.

Ugh.

That wasn't the type of company he desired right now. And he still wasn't in the mood to compete with those beasts for food. He had his fill of stale blood, his next meal would have to be something special. Really special. And he had time to find it, with last night's buffet still in his stomach, he wouldn't need to eat for another month.

With nothing else to occupy his time, he sniffed the air. His nose twitched.

A divine scent gently flowed down the street. He wasn't hungry, but that didn't mean he couldn't eat.

He tracked the scent and hugged the shadows as he sprinted fast enough that his feet barely glanced the ground. It was a woman. She was carrying something in her arms, but it didn't look to be a weapon. A stuffed dog, perhaps?

It didn't matter. That smell, he needed it, whatever it was.

Evan dove from the shadows and matched her steps until he was just five feet behind her. Then his nose twitched again. This woman was not the owner of the scent she carried with her.

She must have sensed him, because she turned abruptly. Great, now she was going to make a scene.

The woman readied herself for a scream, but Evan cut her off.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, pointing to the stuffed animal.

"This?" she said, lifting it slightly. The perfume-like scent hit Evan's nose as she moved it. He nodded, mentally giving her five seconds to explain before he got violent. He remembered the smell now. The mortal girl and the unmistakable scent of magic.

"I bought it at a little shop down the road from here. It's on the boardwalk, just before you get to the park."

Evan smiled at the woman. "Thank you," he said and headed down the road.