Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 7

The next night was my first night as secretary during a broadcast. Drei was there, but as Caroline had said earlier, he was the biggest guy she had. She needed him as much as she claimed to need me. I purposely waited until last to brief the bodyguards for the night. Some people even commented on the orderliness of their briefing sheet. Though I smiled and made small talk, I couldn’t help wondering if I could keep a rein on myself tonight.

It wasn’t long before Drei was the only one I hadn’t addressed. Breathing in deeply, I made my way over to him.

“You’re just outside the broadcasting room tonight,” I said, focusing on my clipboard. I handed over his briefing page and waited a moment.

“Very well,” he replied, his voice cold, but not as scathing as it had been.

I wanted so much in that moment to tell him I still loved him. But I didn’t. Instead, I walked back to the office to let Caroline know everyone was set, we could go any time.

“Great,” she said, pulling her hair back in a severe bun. “Oh, do you need anything?” she asked before I could turn to leave. “Are you okay? Nothing happened, right?”

I smiled at her—weak as it was, it was the best I could muster. “It’s all business, right?”

“It should be—on these nights, anyway;” she watched me carefully, unsure whether to make heads or tails of my current emotionality.

“Then I’ll be fine.” As we left the office together, I said, “If you ask me tomorrow, you might get a different answer. Just so you know.”

She laughed, saying, “I’ll have to remember that.”

What I didn’t tell her was while it didn’t hurt to talk to him, it hurt to think about what his reaction to anything I said about us would be. At least that took precedence over what hurt more—which was having to keep anything I wanted to say to him a secret.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 2

Caroline offered to give me a week or so off from work, but I knew there was still so much to get done before the broadcast. So when she refused to drive me—not that I complained—I hailed a cab most of the way and walked the rest. I needed to do something to occupy my mind and time; I would go insane from the unanswered questions and instant replay if I didn’t.

To say she was livid when I showed up would be hugely inaccurate. She was way past that. I could tell by the fireball that was hurled towards me, barely missing my head. That, and the storm of yelling that followed, summing up to basically question why I was so hardheaded. When she shushed long enough for me to say anything, I simply told her, “I need this.” I could only hope she would understand how painful it was sitting in her apartment alone.

“Fine;” her arms, previously crossed over her chest, dropped to her sides. “But I’m not giving you any work.” Turning to Ian, who stood behind her, watching the goings-on with a mixture of confusion and interest, she said, “And you won’t either.”

“Then I’ll find something.” She nodded and began listing things they still needed to do before Saturday night as Ian followed her to another area of the building.

Left to my own devices, I made my way into her office, a project already in mind. When I’d had to file the charts I redid, I remembered thinking her cabinets were a mess and it was a miracle she could find anything. The chaos probably stemmed back to Conan; I doubted he was much concerned with keeping her organized.

So I set to work, pulling all of the files, emptying the folders, and re-sorting the papers into stacks around the room. At one point, I decided I should start stuffing folders again, so I went out to buy a few multi-color packs to help further organize everything.

The project took up my time during the day. Trying to determine where everything belonged was all that mattered. I wasn’t hungry so I often skipped meals without trying. Caroline stopped in occasionally during the week with food and sat down, telling me I had to eat something. I would eat some of it while listening to her talk about what was happening and ask if I needed anything. Every time my answer was the same: no. I was fine. Don’t worry about me. But I knew the more I said it, the less she believed it.

After the first day, she gave me rides there and back, her reasoning being she couldn’t stop me, so she might as well save me the cab fare. The morning trip was laced with conversation, mostly her prying and trying to coerce me into dealing with what had happened. It didn’t work because I wouldn’t let it. I wasn’t ready to deal with it. I just needed more time.

My nights were spent outside. I would wait until she was fast asleep before sneaking out. Sometimes I went out to the rooftop garden—I was drawn to it despite how painful a reminder was. Other times I would find a park and walk around aimlessly. On those walks, I often felt as though I was looking for something in the trees, searching for someone in the clearings, hoping for one thing or another to lead me away from this half existence. The only thing I ever found was the moon.

When I saw her hanging in the sky, Jake’s words returned to me from all those years ago, from the night before he left the camp to return home. Drei had struck some deal with the Lady of the Moon, keeper of promises. I didn’t know what he had promised, or if she was doing her part in it, but every night I was out there, I asked of her the same thing.

“Bring him back to me...please. I can’t keep living like this.”

I would stare after her until she began to disappear over the horizon. Then I would sneak back into Caroline’s apartment, pretending to have just woken up. She didn’t know I left at night; she didn’t know I couldn’t sleep. It was just another reminder that no one could replace him; it was also a painful reminder of how much and how little he really knew about me.

Vampiric: Chapter Seven, Part 11

Purposely taking up more time, I wrote a note and pinned it to his door, insisting we needed to talk, even if he had to wake me up. Then, walking at nearly a maddeningly slow pace, I made my way outside and slipped into the passenger seat.

“Take long enough?” Ian asked jovially, speeding off.

“Sorry if I’m not Little Miss Sunshine;” I stared out the window.

“Something wrong already?”

“You obviously wouldn’t understand.” Although he tried to make small talk—possibly an attempt to cheer me up before we met Caroline—I ignored him, adding another thing on my list why I wished I had never met her.

The meeting was to finalize our employee list—since she was adding a few more, but had interviewed probably 20 people—and for her to thank me for redoing the charts—finally finished and filed.

All I could think of doing was going back to the apartment and waiting up for Drei. I didn’t care if he didn’t return until the next day or if Caroline called a hundred times before then. I set up camp on the couch, my phone off and charging, the lights off, and my mind racing. I only wished we could work this out; unfortunately, I wasn’t sure anymore if he wanted the same thing.

Around midnight, there was a knock on the door, which I ignored. Drei had a key; he wouldn’t need me to let him in. He probably wouldn’t assume I’d be there to do so. I continued staring into space. A few hours later, another knock came, louder and more insistent. Around the time the sky began to lighten, Drei entered.

“We need to talk,” I said, rising to face him. Then I noticed Ian standing behind him.

“A shame work came calling.” Drei, not even seeming disappointed, went straight to his room and closed the door, letting the note hang there unnoticed.

“Have you been here all bloody night?” Ian cried, immediately on his phone.

With nothing else I could do, shy of breaking down his door and locking Ian out, I picked up the fully charged phone and turned it on, greeted by fifty messages; there were probably more missed calls than that.

“I’m with her now,” Ian said, pacing in the entranceway. “Yes. We’re going now,” he said, shooting me a tight-lipped look; I hadn’t thought it was possible to anger Ian.

Needless to say, Caroline was pissed because my phone was shut off and, according to her, she had been worried sick about me. I didn’t care. My relationship was falling apart; Drei was a complete stranger to me anymore. When I had first met him, we hadn’t been this foreign to each other. And what was worse, I didn’t know how to fix it. I wasn’t sure there was a way. So as Caroline droned on, berating me in between explaining why she had wanted us there, I was debating if I could even try anymore. If it was possible for me to take anymore.

Vampiric: Chapter Seven, Part 10

The following morning, Drei still wasn’t back, but it didn’t take long for Caroline to call me. Ian picked me up shortly after and drove to the same place as the night before. In the sunlight, it looked even more desolate, as though it might collapse if you sneezed at it.

This time she was waiting for us when he parked. A heap of folders and papers were tossed into my arms the minute I was standing upright.

“Those are the charts. It has everyone’s positions on them as well as their profiles and what we know about each one. This is your copy. If you change or add anything, you have to do the same with my copy,” she said, hands on her hips, staring at the pile in my arms. “There’s some other stuff in there, too. Mostly information and assignments on the next broadcast. You’ll have to make printouts for every person working that night to hand out beforehand. Well, everyone who has something specific or important written in the assignments folder.”

She started to walk off in the opposite direction of her office, Ian following a step behind, before she turned back. “I almost forgot,” she said, smiling in her carefree way, tossing me a key. “Don’t lose it,” she warned. “It’s to my office. You should get acquainted with where everything is. If I can’t find something,” she said, turning back around and walking off again, “it’s you I call.”

Thus was the official start of my new secretarial responsibilities. After acquainting myself with her files—realizing how disorganized she was—I sat down to her computer to begin typing out the assignment sheets. Those, once printed, went into a new folder so I wouldn’t lose them. When I was done with that, I crammed what I could into my purse and, carrying the rest, left, walking to the nearest working bus stop and hitching a ride back to the apartment.

Drei was asleep in his room, a heavy blanket over the window to block out what the curtains didn’t. I left him alone, wishing he would be around and awake so we could talk about what was bothering him—I sensed it was something more than my needing to leave abruptly the previous night. I was starting to believe Caroline was right and he was letting something stew instead of talking to me about it, possibly whatever had happened to make him dislike her.

I sat at the coffee table and began reading through the papers. I didn’t know who had put them together, but it was a mess that was quickly driving me as crazy as Mom. Stopping just before reaching a point of wanting to tear my hair out, I left and returned an hour later with paper and colored pens. I was going to scrap the old charts after I remade them.

Those charts took a week. Not because they were particularly difficult, but because, originally, there were eight charts with all of the positions and first names written in. I simplified the charts for future use, only marking down the positions and creating a separate chart for each group of people. Also, I made sheets detailing the positions of each person in any set. That was the most time consuming, mostly because once I had two sets made—one copy for Caroline, one for me—I had to make a copy for each person on the list. True, there was probably some computer program I could have used, and perhaps I would do so later on, but working by hand filled the long, lonely hours and kept my mind busy.

Every night during that week, I fell asleep on the couch. Without fail, Caroline would wake me up by calling. There were a total of 17 calls from her, four of which were while I was working in her office; those meetings covered everything from the location of the next broadcast to new employees and security. While I saw plenty of her and Ian, I didn’t see Drei unless he was asleep. His waking presence was apparent, though; when she did wake me, I found someone had covered me with a blanket. Despite this, I failed to ever come across him. Needing to speak with him, but unable to, I focused even more on finishing the charts.

The next broadcast was still a couple weeks away when Drei and I were finally home at the same time. I had just woken up—surprisingly, it wasn’t because of Caroline. Still slightly groggy, I heard him walking past rather than saw him.

“Wait;” I reached blindly out with one hand, the other still clearing sleep from my eyes.

Sitting up, I watched him shrug into his coat and reach for the door; I did the only thing I could to stop him from leaving. Manipulating the air, I shoved his hand aside.

“I said wait.”

He tried again, and this time I wasn’t as nice.  Shoving him sideways into the kitchenette, I stood and was soon blocking his way out.

“We need to talk.”

“What about?” he questioned grudgingly, his eyes frighteningly cold.

“Well…” I had been waiting for this moment but had failed to develop any specific questions. “For starters, why are you avoiding me?”

“I have not been avoiding you,” he said, though he shifted his weight from foot to foot and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d lie to me about that,” I whispered, shoving my hair behind an ear. “I haven’t seen you in over a week.”

“We have both been busy.”

“Amazing how you’re suddenly busy after I get promoted,” I snapped before I could stop myself. I dragged my fingers through my hair, breathing deeply. “That’s not what I meant to say.” This was already going so wrong and now I was trying to make it out to be a power trip? Slumping against one of the cabinets and hiding my face, I tried to think of something to say that would help fix this all. “I—Drei—”

My phone started ringing.

“You had better answer. Caroline does not strike me as particularly patient.”

“We still need to talk,” I said, knowing he was right.

“Then do not answer.” When I didn’t move—partially pissed off he could even suggest that—he added, “You know you want to.”

“I don’t want to,” I said, hating the constricted feeling of my throat. Caroline was ruining what could have been a healing moment for Drei and I, something we wouldn’t need if she had never come into our lives.

“Then do not answer.”

Though I knew I needed to, I debated which I needed to do more: talk with Drei or answer Caroline. Just before the ringer quit, I answered, hearing Drei’s disappointed sigh. I didn’t see how he had a right to be disappointed when he was being the difficult one.

“Can you give me half an hour?”

“If we are going to discuss anything,” Drei said behind me, “we shall need more than half an hour.”

“No,” Caroline replied shortly. “I need you now. That’s why I’m calling now.”

“Please,” I begged, knowing I needed to at least spend some time talking with Drei.

“What could be more important than me needing you here?” she asked, a note of incredulity to her voice.

I wanted to tell her there were a lot of things more important, but I couldn’t. Not without unleashing her full wrath—or mine, for that matter. Instead, I said, “This, Caroline. Please.”

“No, and Ian will be there shortly;” she hung up.

“You act as though you did not expect as much.”

Despite my growing frustration with him, I wrapped my arms around him, trying to think of something to say. Trying to convince myself I wouldn’t go…not now. Even though he was stiff in my arms, I didn’t let go; I couldn’t so long as I believed there might be a chance—even if it was in hell.

“It is apparent both of us must be going, so let us not delay.” With that, he broke my embrace and disappeared again, slipping through my fingers.

Vampiric: Chapter Two, Part 1

Chapter Two: Learning to Live

The drive was longer than it had to be, in my opinion. But everything Caroline did seemed to be done with the utmost care and secrecy. I had just finished the thought when Drei commented that she was an intelligent person, seemingly for no apparent reason to our driver. Not for the first time, I reminded myself not to think so loudly.

We circled various sections of the city until I thought it was a joke and some movie star was going to jump out screaming with laughter. The thought of punching said movie star in the face crossed my mind briefly, before I realized we were driving in absolute darkness. Looking back through the rear window, I saw the city lights twinkle in imitation of the stars.

Drei took my hand, gazing at me in a way that seemed to say wait. He knew I was impatient—though it contradicted the common nature of air elementals—but he also knew I could wait if he reminded me to.

It seemed hours later—I cannot begin to explain how numb my rear end was or how badly I needed to stretch—we finally pulled into a pier with rundown warehouses and a shabby looking dock. Ghostly tugboats rocked fitfully against their ropes, wishing to drift aimlessly into retirement.

He stopped the car outside of a stoic warehouse, a soft light falling through one of the broken windows at the top momentarily before flitting away inside again.

“We’re here;” the driver climbed out of the car.

Drei and I followed suit, walking next to each other a few paces behind him. Pulling a strand of air towards me, I heard voices inside. Though soft, I could hear them perfectly.

“—they’re here, C,” a masculine voice said.

“About time,” she replied in her smooth voice, a note of irritation apparent.

“You never told Ian she’d be difficult to locate.”

“Well, I didn’t know,” she snipped back.

We entered through a side door then. From the inside, it became obvious the windows of the lower level had been covered with black paint, explaining why this warehouse also seemed disused.

Caroline stood in the center of the room, a black, long sleeved tunic and blue skinny jeans covering her thin frame. Her hair was down, the natural curls framing her sharp features.

“Finally,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Ian,” she nodded in our driver’s direction, “and Conan,” she said, motioning to the other man standing beside her. He was medium-height—just slightly taller than I—with crew cut brown hair and sea green eyes. A few other people dressed in dark colors moved around behind them, but she didn’t bother introducing them. “We’re the only ones you need to know;” she signaled us to follow her. “Now we get down to business.”

She walked from the large front room and jogged up a set of stairs, disappearing into another room. This one was smaller, containing a couple of file cabinets, a desk, and three chairs. She sat on the far side of the desk, shuffling the haphazard piles of paper out of the way. We sat in the chairs opposite her.

“Give me a moment,” she said, still shuffling through papers. “Conan was supposed to clean this up for me and now I’ve lost your stuff.”

The room was cold, the chilly tendrils of air burrowing into my skin. Drei stood momentarily, removed his coat, and dropped it over my shoulders. He shook his head as I opened my mouth to object. There was no arguing with him, at least not on this, and most definitely not here.

Caroline watched the exchange, slightly interested, as if trying to figure what had happened or why. She then cleared her throat loudly to draw attention back to herself. “Sign these,” she ordered, handing us each a pile of papers. “The first one is your waiver paperwork, since I can’t guarantee you won’t be injured. Signing it means you won’t hold me accountable for anything that happens, though we do try to prevent injury.”

I skimmed over the packet of possible injuries—one of which was death through various means (electrocution and shooting for two)—slightly shocked at the list. Drei signed his, handing it back, so I did the same. If I died doing this—I couldn’t think about that. It was like setting myself up for it. Besides, the thought was actually pretty bitter, and not towards the person rubbing me the wrong way.

“The next is an agreement to follow all of our policies, rules, regulations, and to keep your traps shut on matters concerning our operation,” she said, filing the waiver forms into separate folders.

The policies and such were straightforward, including regulations on apparel while working and tips on how not to have your head burned off, though it didn’t explain how the burning would occur; so while it was useful to know, it was apparent Caroline wasn’t letting everyone know about her secret. As for the confidentiality agreement, it too was blunt—I was beginning to think she didn’t know how to do things any other way.

“Don’t say anything about our operations, ever. Don’t question motives or activities. Don’t even think of whining. Not when you’re alone, and not when you’re at work. If you can’t hold your liquor, forget about drinking and find an AA group to join.”

I signed both forms, handing them over before I could change my mind and shred them. Drei had been watching me as I read through everything; I think he was scared I would change my mind about this. He should have been, though. It wasn’t something I really fancied doing at all; but he had asked me to.

Caroline filed them separately again, leaning forward when she was done, fingers laced and set before her.

“Jobs;” she sighed and grimaced. “I’ll find the actual descriptions in a moment;” she waved dismissively at the file cabinets, probably not wanting to think about dealing with them at all. “Both of you will be backup. I run the show because I am the show; everyone else just gets to help. Buddy—Drei was it? You’ll be on my security team, inside circle. You look tougher than most of the guys I have now.”

He nodded, as though he had expected this. I guess he kind of had. If looking around downstairs had been any indication, he was the tallest and strongest person she had currently. Then again, if that was everyone she had downstairs, this wasn’t as big of a setup as Drei had led me to believe.

“What exactly that entails, you’ll see when I get you the description sheet Conan drew up for me.” She turned towards me. “You are on my lookout team. Your talents would be most useful there from what I can guess. If not, tell me now so I can reassign you.”

“I can do it,” I said firmly. She was not going to intimidate or insult me. I wasn’t in a very generous mood, especially not towards her. There was just something about having your evening ruined with a ridiculously long car ride and being talked down to that didn’t sit well with me.

“Not what I asked,” she snapped, her eyes cold and her features hard. Maybe she was used to making people do what she wanted by intimidating them, but it made it that much more apparent she underestimated me. I wasn’t scared off as easily as most—not in situations like this anyway. “I asked if your talents are good for it.”

“They are,” I replied flatly, wishing I knew some way to shut her up. She might have been older and whatnot, but that did not give her the right to snap at me.

“Good.”

While she searched through the cabinets to find the job descriptions, Drei whispered into my ear, “You gave her the right when you signed the agreements. She is the boss now.”

“Be in the same place you were tonight in one week, at five. Don’t be late.” She handed us our respective descriptions. “You aren’t needed now, so you can do whatever.” She waved a hand toward the door, settling back down to glower at the mess of paper surrounding her.

Ian herded us through the now busier warehouse and out to the car.

“Welcome aboard,” he said, tearing away from the pier and taking a different route back to the city.

All I could think about was how I was going to survive taking orders from someone as hotheaded and infuriating as Caroline. I didn’t care who she thought she was, but she wasn’t so great I couldn’t live without her.