Page 1 of Accidental Vampire

ONE

TIFFANY

“You’re firing me because I’m not pretty enough?” What the actual fuck?

His mouth was saying “no no no” but his body language was screaming “Yeah, but like, I want to be nice about it.” His black glass-top desk spread out like an ocean between us. The only thing on it was a Montblanc StarWalker Black Cosmos fountain pen. There wasn’t even a phone, no computer either, and never anything that looked like actual work.

I had bought the pen for him. He sent me shopping for it the first week he moved into this office. I had thought it was an odd request for the dude who got stashed in the office behind me, but, like the helpful worker bee I was, I capitulated and spent an entire day shopping for it. I wasn’t even supposed to be his assistant. One day, he asked for help and kept asking.

He leaned back in his chair, with a big fat smirk, the pen between his fingers. He twirled it around like he was some robber baron. He enjoyed this, enjoyed watching me squirm. He planned this. The fucker.

Phallic status symbol. That’s what the pen was. He wanted to be the kind of guy that only used a flashy fountain pen. It didn’t even have ink in it. Now that pen was pointed right at me like an ominous premonition.

Therapy, bullying from my best friend, and a graveyard of terrible relationship decisions have yet to cure me of the people-pleaser addiction. I thought I had been doing better, really taking a stand for myself. This conversation? This asshole? This might do me in now. This might be the start of my villain arc.

“But you told me the board accepted my proposal?” I was trying to figure out what was happening. Oh, that look on his face, honed from years of fuckboy practice. I had clocked him the second I met him. He had“Daddy’s money”and“#BoyMom”energy all over him. He was just pretty enough, just smart enough to walk through life on mediocre talent. And I fell for it. At least I didn’t fall for him. I learned the “Don’t Sleep With Your Boss” lesson the hard way.

“Oh yeah, well about that…” he leaned over and opened his ‘junk drawer.’ He wanted nothing on his desk, so that’s where he stashed everything, even the phone. He pulled out a thin document with a glossy black cover, bound with Levenger disc rings, which he also made me shop for. Corporate spiral binding was beneath him. He rapped it once on the desk before presenting it to me.

It was my report.

Hundreds of hours’ worth of research and analytics, pulling together survey information and historical trends. “Efficiency Improvements to Ensure Employee Retention and Customer Acquisition” gleamed in embossed silver. My heart dropped right through the fucking floor. In a font larger than the title - “Prepared by Dylan McBride, IV”. He had put his own god damn name on my work and was casually flipping me off about it.

“The board loved it, and we’re coming up in the world, so you see…” He gestured about as if everything was painfully obvious.

“No, I don’t see. What are you talking about?”

“Ah well, right, if the board is going to be stopping by, to you know, see how this all gets implemented, well, we have to stick to the… aesthetic,” he paused to find the right word. He gave me a loaded up-and-down.

“The aesthetic?” I sat here in my usual work clothes - black buttery soft linen overalls over a slate gray t-shirt with oil slick Danskos that I saved two months for. We didn’t have a dress code here, jeans were totally acceptable.

“C’mon, Tiffany, you know what I’m saying. The hair? Makeup?” He made wild gestures around his head to indicate my messy bun. “Arianna, is just, well, you know, more suitable to what we want to achieve here.”

Right. Arianna. Blond. Body-con dresses every day with heels and perfectly contoured makeup, with a bit of shimmer kissing her cheekbones. Arianna. The granddaughter of the founder. Fuck.

“I just need the aesthetic to be on point here. You get it, right?” The white leather chair creaked as he shifted his weight.

His pen clicking against the desk broke the silence in the room. It was like a ticking clock, counting down the last moments of my career.

I always knew he was a corporate ghoul, one of those blood-sucking sycophants that spend all their time jockeying for corner offices and expense accounts. I didn’t care that he ate up my time running stupid errands. On paper, I was not his assistant, and I was fine with that. I rather enjoyed wandering through the occasional luxury goods shop. It was a nice break from being elbow-deep in dusty document storage boxes in the basement archives. But to have this waste of human potential steal my work and replace me because I didn’t look the part? Indignation simmered. I had to leave before I lost it.

I gave him a final disgusted look and shoved the report across the desk, sending the StarWalker skittering to the carpet. I stopped at my desk to grab my water bottle and headphones. Arianna was welcome to my over-sized Calamityware coffee mug. She wouldn’t get the joke.

I took my shock out on the down button. What the fuck was I going to do? I had just gotten to a place where I didn’t have to check my balance before buying a latte. I had tried for years to get a library or university job with no luck. I looked at the expensive but uninspired decor of the elevator lobby. I’d sell my blood before I took another corporate job.

TWO

LACHLAN

I heard her shoes click softly on the marble floor.

I let my head hang back on the leather arm chair. She’d probably beat my ass for the slip in protocol, for not jumping to my feet at her appearance. This hangover, though. Hades could steal me to Hell and it would be more enjoyable. I should be excused from all strenuous activity. What I needed was a drink.

I squeezed my eyes tighter. Maybe I could just play dead, likedeaddead, and she’d find someone else to command. I heard a soft rustle, a whoosh, and then a dull thud.

The pain didn’t register till I looked down and saw a silver dagger sticking out of my chest. There was a bit of white crumpled paper threaded on the hilt of the dagger. I looked up at her. Her gaze was as expectant and demanding as her face was devastatingly beautiful. What did they say? Lucifer himself jumped from heaven just to glimpse her face.

I traced the edge of the dagger down to where it missed my heart by centimeters. Her aim wasn’t the problem, the dagger was right where she wanted it.

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