Chapter Three
My roommates and I spend all evening calling different valentine agencies around the city.
Each time, we meet only rejection. The Valentine’s Day Ball, one of the biggest events in the vampire world, is only a week away, and most agencies state that their rosters of hopeful humans are already full.
Others snootily inform us that they only take referrals, anyway.
Finally, I reach the last agency on my list, a tiny organization called The Valentine Society.
“There’s only one review,” I tell my roommates. “But it is a five-star one.”
Elaine shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
I nearly drop my phone when the woman on the line says they’re accepting applications. She hardly sounds enthusiastic about it, and this is far from the most prestigious of the businesses we’ve been looking at, but a tryout is a tryout.
Soon enough the three of us are booked for the next evening. We share our last bottle of rosé to celebrate. Despite my insistence that I don’t have a chance of being chosen, I fall asleep with thoughts of ballgowns and fangs.
* * *
The next day, I’m so nervous I can barely eat. But the advice online was adamant about having a hearty meal a few hours before giving blood, so I decide to cook breakfast. But my heart sinks when I open the fridge and realize it’s nearly empty aside from half-used condiments and too-old takeout.
The pang of anxiety is familiar. So many times in my childhood, I was left to fend for myself with a fridge just like this.
But that means I’m used to pulling together a struggle meal.
After a few minutes, I scrounge up some peanut butter and jelly.
We’re out of bread, but tortillas will work in a pinch.
“Breakfast of champions,” I say, passing the surprisingly delicious creations to my roommates as they emerge from their screened-off partitions of the living room.
I spend most of breakfast coaxing my roommates into eating, but I manage a few nibbles before ushering them out the door. They’re the ones who have a real shot at this, anyway. I’m just here to make sure they show up on time.
Between the three of us, we only have one car: Elaine’s clunky old sedan that hasn’t had working air conditioning in years. But I end up driving, as usual, when we’re together, because Elaine’s road rage has made me break out in stress-induced hives before.
Elaine and Sophie chatter the whole drive over, but we’re silent when we lay eyes on our destination.
This feels a lot more real with the sight of the narrow, gothic house with its iron gate.
We’re about to meet a real-life vampire.
Something I’ve daydreamed about for an embarrassingly long time, but I’m not about to show them how nervous and starstruck I am.
“Let’s keep in mind they’re just people, at the end of the day,” I say as calmly as I can manage, as I roll past the gate and park in front of the house.
“Just super rich, super famous people,” Sophie says, nodding.
“No different from your average brush with a celebrity at a grocery store, really,” Elaine says.
“Except we’re the groceries.”
“And they’re a little bit dead.”
“And—”
“Guys,” I say, turning off the car. “Please be normal.”
“This is us being normal,” Sophie says.
I sigh, and get out of the car. A moment later they join me.
They’re uncharacteristically quiet as they stare at the door to the house.
I glance at them. While I opted for my usual faded T-shirt and jeans look, they both dressed up for the occasion: Elaine in a sharp blazer and tailored trousers, Sophie in a fluffy, pink monstrosity of a minidress.
But despite their earlier enthusiasm, Sophie is wide-eyed, and Elaine is trembling.
“Hey,” I say, more softly. “Come here. We’ve got this.” I pull each of them in, and they crowd in for a group hug. “We’re doing this for all of us. Remember our promise.”
“Right,” Elaine says, letting out a shaky breath.
“Fingers crossed that one of us has tasty blood,” Sophie whispers.
“And it only takes one.” We’ve already agreed that if one of us is selected, whoever it is will pay for the apartment until the others can come up with the money. We all link our pinkies in a promise and nod solemnly.
I study their faces as I pull away. We may have met online in a moment of mutual desperation, and living together the last few years hasn’t always—or ever—been easy, but they’re my best friends.
Ever since I met them, I knew one of them was going to end up fabulously famous and rich if there’s any justice in the world.
They just have that kind of star quality.
And when it happens, I’ll be delighted to just be at their side.
We step inside together, and are greeted by a blond woman who introduces herself as Lissa. I hesitate for a moment when I see her, but after seeing the color in her face and the rise and fall of her chest, I relax. Human.
“All three of you, hm?” she asks, eyeing each of us.
I squeeze both of my roommates’ hands. “That’s right.”
“Well, we’ll see how that goes,” she mutters. Then, before anyone can answer, “This way!”
She leads us down a hallway and into a parlor.
My roommates ooh and aah under their breath as they look around.
I survey everything more skeptically. It’s very old-fashioned, the sort of fancy little parlor I’d see in a historical show or something.
A round table sits in the center, surrounded by plush chairs.
A chandelier hangs above, and old-fashioned bronze sconces on the wall provide lighting, since the curtains are drawn against the dying rays of the sunset.
“Yes, yes, I know,” says Lissa, rolling her eyes as she gestures around. “I keep telling him it’s all a bit much, but—”
“Lissa, must you? Every time?”
I freeze at a voice behind me. It’s pleasant and low with an aristocratic British accent. But there’s something about it? no, something about the presence at my back, really, that makes my spine stiffen in sudden alarm.
My roommates turn with me. A man stands in the doorway a few feet away. But he isn’t a man at all, even though he looks like a perfect gentleman, with his neatly trimmed beard and well-tailored suit. Something about him screams dangerous.
Predator.
Vampire.
“My name is Benjamin Acharya,” the man says, extending a hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Somewhere beneath my panic, it registers that it’s an odd name for a vampire. Most use their court names—de Camelia, for example—rather than a surname.
My friends are frozen on either side of me. After a moment, I shake off the same paralysis and step forward, plastering on a smile as I reach to take his hand.
“The pleasure is—oh, shit.”
My attempt at a greeting falls apart as Sophie slumps at my side. I rush to catch her, and only half succeed, bringing us both awkwardly lurching toward the floor. But a moment later, I feel the touch of a cold hand and my body is suddenly weightless.
In the blink of an eye, Benjamin has made his way to us, holding each of us up with an arm.
“Are you quite alright?” he asks, shockingly unfazed.
“I-I’m fine, but she’s…” I turn to look at Sophie as Benjamin sets me back on my feet.
“She’s fainted,” Benjamin says. “Not an abnormal reaction to meeting a vampire for the first time. She’ll recover shortly.”
“Is there anything we should do?” I ask. I glance at Elaine, who is still standing frozen and wide-eyed.
“Just give her a moment. I’ll set her on the chaise here?”
“Sure.” I wring my hands, following close behind as Benjamin lifts my friend with startling ease and lays her on the chaise. As I crouch beside her, softly calling her name, she stirs. “Hi, sweetie. You okay?”
Sophie blinks at me, puzzled for a moment before her eyes go wide. “Oh, God,” she says, sitting up. I place my hand on her arm, urging her not to move too fast. “I’m so sorry!”
“It happens all the time,” Benjamin says from somewhere behind me. The moment he speaks, Sophie’s eyes roll back and she swoons again.
I grab her shoulder to steady her and shoot an apologetic smile over my shoulder at the vampire.
Truth be told, my heart is still beating erratically as well, but I know it’s just a deep-buried instinct acting up.
Stop it, I scold myself. He’s just a polite man who happens to be undead and fanged.
“Maybe I should take her out to the car.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Benjamin says.
I help Sophie to her feet, put an arm around her shoulders, and guide her outside. Elaine is still standing in the doorway as though paralyzed. “Do you want to come with us?”
“I…” She blinks, takes a deep breath. “No. I can do this.”
I nod. “I’ll be right back.”
I help Sophie down the hallway and out the front door, slow step by slow step, though gradually she becomes better able to support herself.
“I’m sorry,” she says, chin wobbling. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know it would be like that.”
“Don’t worry. He said it’s common.”
“Still, how embarrassing…”
I murmur soothing words and help her to the parked car. I’m easing her into the backseat and encouraging her to drink some water when Elaine comes running, tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry!” she blurts. “I’m sorry. I can’t do it. He was about to bite me and I couldn’t—I mean, it was all very sexy and consensual, but I still—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I make sure Sophie is safely in the car before turning and hugging her. “It’s okay! It’s fine. You tried. We knew this was a long shot, right?”
Elaine buries her face in my shoulder. “But I really wanted it to work,” she says.
I shut my eyes, grant myself a brief moment to let the disappointment sink in, and then turn back to practicality. “It’s okay,” I say again. “We’ll figure something else out. Let’s get you guys home, and then—”
“Wait.” She pulls back, gives me a pleading look. “But you haven’t had a chance yet.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. It was never gonna be me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… I was just here for you guys.”