Apparently, she was going to visit an evil witch with a scary poet vampire.

Oh, the envelope did contain magic,” a strange, low voice said from the doorway.
Judith looked over. She forgot her cut and her coffee. And how to breathe.
The tall, broad man filling up the door frame looked like a warrior angel with gold hair falling into his eyes, a pale-gold undertone to his skin, and ‘heartbreaking’ green eyes….
“Any magic that involves blood is a grave threat,” he continued. “And death by paper cut would be a long and tedious way to go. I can help.

He kissed it better,” she told them.

Vampires aren’t noble?”
“No. We serve or we prey.”
“Like monks?”
He frowned, confused, and then gave a soft chuckle. “Prey, as in hunt. No God would hear our prayers.

One night. May the best witch win.

There are worse things than death.