by R. J. Blain
“There’s your answer. Present yourself as you like. I’m giving you an opportunity and nothing more.”
As he liked to do, he left me with more questions than answers.
I worried about the technicalities of renewing my license, wondering how Emerick meant to overcome my decision to change my name along with my status as a vampire. I put aside the leasing issue long enough to refresh myself on other changes in the legal world to help clear my head, which laid some of my concerns to rest.
Vampires could seal their records and legally change their name, and the master of the brood could handle the documentation. It wouldn’t be foolproof, but little was. The accusation of a crime and a guilty verdict would remove my protections, but as long as I kept my nose clean, I’d be safe enough.
In the time I’d spent cut off from the rest of the world, change had swept through New York City and brought chaos with it. An eruption of preternatural activity ensured there’d be more trouble on the horizon as well. I wondered how many would risk permanent death to escape the law and start fresh under the new rules and regulations. For the moment, any vampire could seal the records of their mortal life.
I supposed unlife was a punishment in and of itself, but I wouldn’t speak that thought to anyone. Not yet.
Perhaps in time, I’d voice my misgivings, but until I learned more about vampires, their social structure, and how the laws changed things, I’d keep my mouth shut.
Regulations on where the preternatural lived represented the tip of the iceberg. Everything from taxes, affirmative action laws, and education would come under fire soon enough. Family law would become murky at best if the prejudiced had their way.
I wondered if my father’s moves would distract from the mire of other problems Emerick and his brood would face in the coming months. If the brood’s master hadn’t figured out a tempest was developing on the horizon, I looked forward to being the one to rub it in his face.
Admiring his violet eyes while I challenged him with fact and basic insubordination seemed like a good use of my time.
Pleased with my motivations, however petty, I rewound to the beginning, downloaded a time-management app onto my tablet, and organized myself so I could make good use of my extended lease on life. I prioritized the leasing issue, which would only take a few nights of work to make as iron clad as possible.
To mix things up, and to keep Emerick on his toes, I got up and made my own coffee, contemplating how I might integrate myself into the brood without knowing anyone other than Emerick or Ben. Did I want to be integrated? I’d gotten so used to solitude that I hesitated at the thought of having to share space with more than one or two others.
I’d been the same way in life, forcing myself to navigate the murky waters of the corporate world. Had I been given a choice, I doubted I would’ve become a lawyer at all, which led to more uncomfortable questions.
What did I want? Unlife came with perks, assuming I could break out of the shackles of my mortal life. Did I even want to?
Being a lawyer offered me layers of protection and familiarity. I did my job well when I applied myself. I enjoyed hunting for answers and loopholes in the law. Every last one of my accomplishments hung on my father’s pressuring and threats.
If I could choose only one, which would I prefer to take to my grave with me, my father or my vampiric maker?
I bet the question would haunt me until I found an answer. Then, like a persistent disease without cure, wishful thinking led me to other questions, each one more disturbing than the one before it. If I found a purpose in undeath, would I want to find my final rest? Making the most of my second chance would infuriate my father. He’d rather see me truly dead. His mutterings lurked in my memory, his hatred an inferno set to consume me if I let it.
I knew nothing of my maker, which fueled a different flame.
Even with my father’s hard, unforgiving hand driving me, I hadn’t sought revenge; it’d never even crossed my mind. I’d only cared about surviving with the illusion of comfort, making it through each day without incurring his wrath.
As my desk couldn’t hold the contents of the boxes in a way I liked, I took over the floor, creating stacks so I could sort through the new laws and categorize them by type and importance. As Emerick had stolen some of the real estate laws, I focused on corporate laws dealing with the preternatural.
What I found disturbed me almost as much as the exclusions from mortal leasing laws.
Emerick likely already knew his company policies overrode anything the states or Federal government issued; the Federal government wanted nothing to do with monitoring labor laws for the preternatural, an unfortunate decision in my opinion.
States could include the preternatural in their labor laws, but New York had decided to grant corporations the right to rule without restriction.
The Almighty Dollar had won again.
“Why are you on the floor?” Emerick demanded.
“The desk wasn’t big enough, so I needed the floor.” I checked my coffee to discover it was long empty. I grabbed it and held it up. “I need a copy of your company policies.”
Emerick took my mug with a sigh. “They’re currently being rewritten.”
“Well, then you can give me a copy of the previous version.”
“It was very basic, and it boiled down to do what the master says and don’t be an ass,” he reported.
While I appreciated the simplicity, it wouldn’t protect his interests—or the brood. “You have a good corporate lawyer rewriting it?”
“Ben’s handling the matter.”
“As in Ben’s writing it or Ben delegated someone else to write it?”
“Ben does as Ben wishes on assignments like that.”
I sighed. “Could you please ask Ben to introduce me to whomever is rewriting the company policy? I will provide a guideline for what must be included. None of your employees have any recourse at this point in time.”
“I’m aware. Ben likely delegated it to a newly turned in Human Resources.”
“That’s ironic.”
“So it is. We are, in most ways, still human. Are you thirsty?”
“No, I’m not,” I admitted.
“When you are, ask for me. I was thinking about your situation, and I’m concerned that you’ll have difficulties adjusting to cow or chicken blood; I start my children young on it, and you’ve been reared on vampiric blood. I asked someone in the lab to compare my blood sample to human donors and animal donors. There are sufficient differences in the blood where you might suffer from adverse reactions drinking something other than vampiric blood.”
I sighed. “I’ve screwed myself over, then?”
“Potentially. I recover quickly from blood loss, so you’ll drink from me as necessary. Ben has volunteered to be your second donor; he’s not as quick of a healer as I am, but he has a higher than usual blood capacity, so if you’re starved, he should be able to handle your requirements. We’ll need to discuss your blood intake.”
I cringed at that. “As little as possible as infrequently as possible, then.”
“Pepper. You need to eat. You need to eat regularly, too. We generally consume a pint a day to replenish and freshen our blood. You don’t even drink that much on average. Your average ten pints in two weeks is insufficient.”
“Ten pints is how much an adult male vampire holds?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mean I should be draining a miscreant every ten days?”
“No, Pepper. You should be taking a pint from either me or Ben daily. That’s healthy.”
“And how will that leave you or Ben?” I demanded.
“Fine unless something happens, which is unlikely.”
Something about his tone put me on edge. “Something happening? What do you mean by that?”
“Someone attempts to stake me, too much exposure to sunlight, or even high use of magic or physical exertion. All I’d have to do to make up for what you’ve taken is feed
a little extra each day. I’d be feeding both of us, and that wouldn’t change the overall amount of blood consumed between the two of us. Instead of you drinking, I’ll drink. I’ll have a pint before you drink, and then I’ll drink another pint after you drink. The trick will be teaching you how much to take. There are more important matters for us to be concerned about.”
“Like what?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes to make it clear I wouldn’t tolerate his typical evasiveness.
“Old things have power, Pepper, and I’m old. My blood contains that power. It may advance how you grow into your vampiric abilities, which means you will need to train above and beyond other newly turned. I’m also concerned with you having consumed so much vampiric blood, you will have begun developing the powers of those you drained. Some of your victims were younger and new to their preternatural strengths, but a few were old. It’s a concern.”
I could read between the lines as well as the next person, and I sighed at the implication I’d made an even bigger mess for myself. “Great. What might that mean for me?”
“I have asked some of the brood to do research into your victims to learn their powers. Once I have a list, we will begin testing your abilities. I’m well versed with the preternatural. It could mean nothing. It could mean you have an early bloom of new strengths. They may be weak. They could become strong. Much of that relies on you. But, if you can’t feed on other blood types without becoming sick, you will have even more choices to make.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. No one has tried something like this before. While lovers will share their blood, it’s rarely so one-sided. But sharing blood like that is a much more intimate affair than one person drinking.”
I’d already figured out drinking from a willing host was a heady affair—one that could easily turn into something more than just a pleasant meal.
Emerick probably could walk down the street and get women to sleep with him with a single come-hither look, and I was smart enough to recognize I wasn’t immune to him, no matter how I might posture and pretend I was.
“What happens to lovers who drink like that?”
“Beyond energetic evenings spent together and a slaked thirst?”
“Yes, beyond that.”
“They’re blood bound.” Emerick’s tone implied there was something significant about his announcement, but I couldn’t guess at what. “Much like I bound you to the brood when we drank from each other, but far more intimate. Instead of actively forging the bond with the brood, it is a slower, natural binding. There are other ways one might become blood bound to another. They’re rare and never accidental—or slow.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that.”
“That you will. But it is worth knowing that you would be bound to me and not the other way around, as it would be my blood and magic flowing through your veins. Some like to believe that the consumer has the power, but this is not true.”
“When you drank from me, I could have used that against you?”
“With the strength and skill, yes. That’s why sharing blood is considered an intimate act. It is also why I would so graciously volunteer my blood. You already belong to me as part of my brood. I would just be solidifying my hold.” With a smile as terrifying as it was alluring, Emerick looked me over in my sea of paperwork, and he saluted me with my empty mug. “I’ll fetch your coffee, and I look forward to your decision. Will you deal with attempting to drink cow and chicken blood, or will you choose me instead? I’m a far rarer vintage.”
I doubted I’d ever be able to forget the flavor of his blood, sweet and smooth on my tongue, and as enticing as my favorite chocolate. Two could play at his game, and if he thought I would bend so readily, he was mistaken. “I’ll think about it.”
The violet I so enjoyed flashed in his eyes. “Do.”
Pleased I’d pricked his pride and challenged him, I returned to work and put aside the matter of blood and bonds for later. I needed to figure out my father’s true plans before he controlled my undead life, too.
Whatever he was up to, it wasn’t good, that much I was certain. He cared little for living things, let alone anything beyond its expiration date, vampires included.
Seven
Despite appearances, I am a responsible master.
Dawn came on stealthy feet, and without having to dodge its searing rays, I failed to notice its arrival until lethargy sank into my bones. The coffee I’d just finished did nothing to keep sleep at bay, and after relocating a few of the piles of paperwork, I decided the floor was just as good a place as any to nap.
It took too much work to get up, explore Emerick’s suite, and figure out where I was actually supposed to sleep.
I almost got away with it, but before I could fully doze off, someone prodded the back of my neck with their shoe. Without a pillow to throw over my head, I retreated for the nearest dark and comfortable spot, which was beneath my new desk. I didn’t make it far before an arm eased beneath my stomach and lifted me up.
“I tolerated you working on my floor, but sleeping on it is another matter entirely,” Emerick announced. “You need to drink, and you need to start learning how to fight the sun’s influence. It is not time for you to go to sleep yet. You can go to sleep in an hour. You haven’t eaten, and you’ll dehydrate if all you drink is coffee.”
I hung limp, closed my eyes, and debated if I could sleep while dangling from his arm. “But I’m not hungry.”
For a rare change, I wasn’t thirsty, either.
“You’re still drinking.” Without any evidence my weight bothered him, Emerick carted me out of my office. “Ben? Can you confirm my youngest made it home without incident?”
“They all checked in. Trevor got into a fender bender, but his car is coated with our best sunscreen, and he made it home right before dawn. And no, he didn’t cause the fender bender. I told him to send over the paperwork after he wakes this evening.”
The fact that Emerick required his brood to check in captured my attention. “You have your brood check in after work?”
“Yes. If one of my brood, especially the youngest of them, get caught out in the daylight, it’s my job to retrieve them if I can. Ben and I can both tolerate lengthy walks in the sun. Many are like you, who struggle to remain awake, especially near dawn. I typically send home all employees at least an hour before dawn, longer if they need to account for traffic. I’ve found some solutions to the travel issue, but it’s expensive to upgrade automotive glass. I’ll pay for it if I believe it’s necessary. All of my vehicles have the coating replaced yearly, as I sometimes drive members of my brood home.”
“You drive members of your brood home?”
“Despite appearances, I am a responsible master.”
According to appearances, he could be a master in a completely different context, and while I was a vampire, I wasn’t dead. Only a woman truly dead would be immune from his lethal charms. I opted to stay limp with my eyes closed as that was far safer than admiring any part of the brood’s master.
Then again, after a year on the streets and zero decent prospects, Emerick counted as the finest of vintages.
Under no circumstances could I indulge in a single sip from him, because his blood gave me bad ideas. Maybe I was a fool, but I hadn’t been born yesterday.
Technically.
Who the hell was I kidding? I may as well have been born yesterday, considering how little I actually knew about vampires. My ability to kill them amounted to nothing in the grand scheme of things.
“I think she’s done for the day,” Ben said with the slightest hint of laughter in his voice. “Did you find her passed out in her office?”
“On the floor, yes. At least she didn’t drool on the paperwork. I’ll take her to the sitting room. Would you mind preparing a drink for me? I’m not sure how much she’ll take once she starts feeding, but it’s as good a time as any to test the waters. She claims she’s not thirsty or hungry, but I’ve also been very c
areful to keep the scent of blood away from her tonight.”
I wanted to protest, but if I hadn’t moved them out of harm’s way, I would’ve left my marks on the pages—and emerged with ink stains on my cheeks. Within an hour, without being trapped by sunlight, I would’ve thrashed my way across my office and made a mess of my work.
It’d been so long since I’d slept on a real bed that I worried I’d fall off the damned thing.
“This isn’t going to end well,” Ben predicted, and despite myself, I giggled at the sarcastic edge in his tone. “Not quite asleep yet, Pepper?”
While tired, I lifted a hand and waved at the vampire. “I think your master’s crazy, letting my teeth anywhere near him. He’s delicious.”
“I think you should know you’re tired enough that you’re saying things you’ll likely regret later.”
“I will never regret stating he’s delicious. I’ve tasted plenty of bad blood. His blood is not bad. It’s anything but bad. His blood is delicious. He doesn’t want to give me more of his blood, because I’ll get picky and never drink any other blood. I’m like that. Once I know I like something, I don’t like changing from what I know I like. It’s a bad habit, just like killing other miscreants is a bit of a bad habit.”
On second thought, Ben was right; I was tired enough I was saying things I’d regret later. Unfortunately, my brain and mouth seemed to no longer have a direct connection. I should have stopped after stating his blood was delicious the first time.
Emerick chuckled, and he kept on strolling along like I weighed nothing before dumping me on the couch in the sitting room. “I think I can handle being a delicious treat for your enjoyment. After a year of drinking bad blood, I’d fixate on good blood, too. I can handle any dependencies you may develop. I already told you I was willing to serve as your primary donor. I’m knowledgeable about the risks. Ben is as well. It’s preferred if only I have a solid hold on you, however. As your brood master, consumption of my blood would offer certain abilities.”
