Chapter 2 The Office

Six weeks before the ceremony, she shows up at the start-up where I work on a Thursday evening, when the sun has already dipped and the whole office is on the brink of mutiny.

They're all thinking of ways to make my life harder. I probably deserve it, but at least I get why they're so mad. That's why I don't make a big deal when I walk back to my desk after a quick meeting and spot my stapler. Yeah, it's been smeared with bird shit. No, I don't care. I work from home most of the time, and it's not like I need to print anything. It's whatever.

"Don't take it personally, Missy," James says, leaning casually against our cubicle divider. His grin is half-assed concern, half-smarmy salesman. Even his blood smells oily.

"I won't."

If there's one thing I'm good at, it's rolling with people hating me. I've been training for it my whole life, like some piano prodigy working away at a craft no one really wants to perfect.

"No need to sweat it," he continues. "And don't listen to Samson. He didn't say what you think he did."

I'm pretty sure it was "nasty bitch" and not "tasty peach" that he yelled, but whatever.

"It comes with the territory," he keeps on. "I mean, you would be mad too if someone broke through your firewall in, what, an hour? Maybe less?"

It was maybe a third of that. But I didn't mind. I spent part of the break browsing for a new hamper since Emilia's cat thinks mine is the best napping spot. I sent her a picture of the receipt, followed by You and your cat owe me sixteen dollars. And of course, no reply came. Not that I expected one.

"People will get over it," James says, sounding like he's giving me the world's best advice. "And hey, you never bring lunch, so no one's gonna spit in your Tupperware." He laughs like it's the funniest thing. I turn back to my computer, hoping he'll get the hint and leave me alone. Spoiler: He doesn't. "And to be honest, it's kind of on you. If you tried to mingle more... I get the loner, mysterious vibe, but some people think you're standoffish. Like you think you're better than them. You could-" "Agony." I snap my head up at the sound of my real name, and for a split second, I think this might actually be over. But no, I look up and see her standing there-her. It takes a second for my brain to catch up, but then I feel the shift in the air. The slow heartbeat. The familiar scent. "Velantra?" "You're hard to find," she says, her voice smooth and low like it always is. I almost slam my head against the keyboard. Instead, I take a breath and say, "That's by design." "I figured." She looks around like she's surveying the battlefield, then back at me. "And yet, here I am." James, who has clearly never seen a Vampire before in his life, suddenly snaps into creepy flirt mode. His grin turns oily, eyes practically undressing her. I can practically hear his thoughts: MILF. "Are you a friend of Missy's?" "You could say that. Since she was a child." "Oh my God. Do tell, how was baby Missy?" Velantra's lips twitch in amusement. "She was... odd, and difficult. If often useful." I really hope James isn't about to make this worse, but of course, he does. "Wait-are you two related?" "No. I'm her father's Right Hand. Head of his Guard," Velantrasays, her gaze sliding over to me. "And she's been summoned." I sit up straighter, now really interested in what's going on. "Where?" "The Nest." That hits me like a punch in the gut. Vampires don't call each other to meet at the Nest unless something huge is going down. I haven't spoken to anyone from my own kind in years. Not unless they've had to drag me into it, like when my father needs a reminder I exist. So why now? "Why?" I hear myself ask before I can stop it. "You'll have to come and find out." Her smile doesn't even try to warm her eyes. James is still lingering, adding to his collection of awkward moments. "Ladies. Right hand? Summon?" He lets out this loud, unhinged laugh that grates on my nerves. I don't even get a chance to flick him in the forehead before Velantra's attention snaps to him, and I get the clear message: Don't push her. "You-" James sputters, his eyes darting between us, then his expression completely changes when he finally catches on. His pupils widen as he registers the very real, very visible signs of what Velantra is. Vampire. And then, just to make it extra awkward, Velantra decides to ruin my day. She snaps her fangs at him. I sigh. "Of course, this is happening." James is gone faster than I can blink, sprinting past my cubicle and trampling a poor benjamin fig on his way out. "Vampire! Vampire-there's a- A Vampire is attacking us, someone call the Bureau, someone call the-" Velantra takes out her laminated card, all cool, like she's done this a million times. The card shows the Human-Vampire Relations Bureau logo, giving her diplomatic immunity on Human soil.

But the office? Completely chaotic. People screaming. Everyone fleeing. The whole bullpen is already halfway down the emergency stairs. Even Samson, still with a strip of toilet paper stuck to his khakis, bolts out of the bathroom.

I slouch in my chair. "I actually liked this job," I say, grabbing the framed Polaroid of me and Emilia from my desk and tossing it into my bag.

"It was easy. They let me work at night, which , you know, helped with my sleep issues." "My apologies," Velantra says, with no hint of real regret. "Come with me."

I should tell her to screw off. But curiosity wins. I straighten the poor benjamin fig on my way out.