Me: Oh no
Me: Please tell me Asher Walton isn’t who I think he is.
Me: Is that the evil vampire family you’ve talked about?
Me: The super old school one that attacks humans and drinks from the vein and doesn’t care one lick about consent? The ones causing all sorts of issues for the progressives trying to pass more ethical laws or whatever?
Me: PLEASE tell me I have the wrong name.
Zuri: YES you have the right name but wait
Me: Alert alert SOS send help what do I do
Zuri: Hold up. Is that who sits next to you?!
Me: Yep. He’s using a fake name though? He’s going by Asher Sullivan
Zuri: Are you sure? His family is rich as heck. I doubt it’s him.
Me: Pretty sure
Zuri: Okay. Look. If it is Asher Walton, he’s not going to do anything at work. Or at least, not around others. So just don’t be alone with him.
Zuri: We’ll talk it over tonight
Zuri: You’ll be fine.
My cheeks puff as I blow out a breath and lean my head back against the seat. I’ve heard horror stories about this family; they’re in the news all the time, as they’re something between politicians and public figures. Everyone knows they’re corrupt, but money can make all sorts of problems disappear. Having to tip-toe around my new coworker is the last thing I need right now. Can’t a girl just get a nice, normal, chill job?
I am determined to be fine. I’ll kill him with kindness and won’t be alone with him. My mystery rescuer turned workplace scorner has now turned out to also be a notoriously terrible vampire with untold wealth and power behind his name. No biggie, it could be worse.
Asher
I toss my keys into the dish by the door and toe off my shoes while Milton meows at me from his perch on the console table. I’m never sure if that meow is a welcome home or go away. Side-eying Milton, I loosen my collar andunbutton my shirt cuffs as I stride into the kitchen. Today was not what I expected.
I didn’t think they’d be able to fill the position so quickly. Obviously, I’m relieved I won’t have to pick up the slack as much now that the new girl has started, but did it have to beher?
I yank open the fridge, glass bottles clanking at the abrupt movement, and grab one at random. I went to a new blood bank a couple weeks ago and they had some sort of sustainable initiative going on, so apparently I’m drinking blood from glass bottles instead of plastic bags now.
What a step up in the world.
I snag a glass, letting the cold liquid slosh into it before holding it up to my nose and taking a deep inhale, the scent already helping me relax. Coppery, metallic, and sharp, exactly as I like it. But then I pause, taking another slow whiff. There’s a sweet undertone I haven’t sensed in blood before.
I take a tentative sip, and as soon as it hits my tongue, my brows shoot up to my hairline. I pull back and hold the glass up again, swirling it around and carefully inspecting the liquid for any hint that the blood’s been mixed with something else. Not finding anything suspicious, I examine the bottle, but there’s nothing different about it either.
At the second careful sip, I have to hold in a moan. This blood isdecadent.It’s absolutely indecent how good it tastes. Unlike anything I’ve tasted before, both salty and sweet, it’s a test of my self-control not to gulp it all down at once. Blood hasn’t been this enticing since… Well, I prefer not to let my mind wander to those dark years.
My family has taken enough from me already. My childhood, my innocence, any hope I had of believing the best in people. They stomped that out of me before it had a chance to grow, doing their best to replace it with bloodthirsty ruthlessness. I’m glad theydidn’t succeed in making me the monster of their dreams, the heir apparent to their bloody empire, even if they haven’t yet given up on those endeavors. I’ll do what I’ve done since I turned eighteen.
Nothing.
I’ll ignore their texts. Avoid their calls. Turn a blind eye to their very existence.
I glance at Milton where he sits in the doorway, but he only stares back, silently judging.
I swirl my glass, taking both it and the bottle to the living room with me where I flip on the TV to a random documentary. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to focus. Between this blood that’s making me feel slightly wild, and thoughts of the new girl at work, I haven’t absorbed anything at all about… Ancient Egyptian tombs?
With a heavy sigh, I pause it and turn on some music instead, resigned to let my thoughts take whatever course they need to so they’ll let me relax. Immediately, they turn to her.
