Chapter Two
Verity bounced her leg as she sat in the private reception area.
She aced every interview, passed the medical screening and survived her induction. The stale formality of the evening unnerved her, but the guy she sat next to, Adam, talked so much that she struggled to concentrate on her nerves.
When every other donor and vampire paired off for their first supervised donation, her “client” hadn’t shown up. She was pissed off for all of two minutes, until she was handed an envelope with her client’s details.
Lord Mayor Theodor Chapel
What the fuck?
For months she had searched for work, but vampires owned just about everything so no one would even talk to her.
Then, the Exchange matched her with the damned mayor.
It was a mistake, but if she pointed it out, they might get rid of her after all, and she was one little nip away from her welcome bonus, so Verity wasn't about to draw attention. One bite, and she’d have more money than she used to make in a month.
So now she waited.
If the induction hall last night had been grand; this was something else. The atmosphere was only made more pretentious by the fact that no one else seemed to notice the casual extravagance.
Fine oil paintings of past Lord Mayors watched her from their gilded frames, set between floor-to-ceiling arched windows that looked out across the city. How small the bustling humans seemed from up here.
Even the chair she sat in was ridiculous, carved wood and embroidered with the Ashhaven city crest. The only thing more irritating than the finery, than the copious amounts of fresh flowers sweetening the air and the sneering face of the secretary eyeing her from behind her sticky note covered desk, was the fact that he was late.
True, Verity had been ten minutes early, intending to make a good first impression, but after sitting in the pretty but uncomfortable chair for almost half an hour, her patience was wearing thin.
Her phone chirped in her pocket, and she grabbed it while the receptionist served her a death stare.
Adam
You out yet? Blink twice
if you need rescuing x
Her lips pursed to save from smirking.
Adam donated at the induction, for a gorgeous, leggy vampire who’d insisted on him calling her Bea. Apparently, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, but he’d still demanded Verity text him after her donation to let him know she was okay. “Safety in numbers,” he’d said.
Verity
Still waiting x
The typing bubble appeared.
Maybe you can use your
bonus to buy him a watch x
She scoffed, before checking the receptionist wasn’t watching, and snapping a picture of the grandfather clock standing proud by the office door.
I think he's covered x
A pointed cough came from the receptionist wiped the bemused look from Verity’s face. Switching her phone to silent, she slipped it back into her pocket as stress crept back in.
A stack of newspapers sat on a side table and Verity grabbed one, hoping that the familiarity of ink on paper might calm her racing mind.
“One-year anniversary of the Cliffhaven quarantine and no end in sight,” the paper read.
She threw it back down. Reading about a pandemic on the other side of Havenshire was not a calming thought.
Late. He was late.
She was almost grateful for it, her nerves taking a back seat as she clenched her jaw. How dare he? First, he couldn’t be bothered to come to her induction, and now he was making her wait. Maybe it was a power move, reminding her who was in charge. Well, two could play that game.
Verity was about to march over to the receptionist and ask what was taking so long when the office door burst open.
“Maybe if you got your head out of your arse, you might be of some fucking use!” a man, a vampire, with salt-and-pepper hair and a look of pure fury on his face, raged as he marched out, leaving the door wide open.
“I’ll bear that in mind,” a voice called from the office.
The secretary jumped from her chair and ran to the doorway as the vampire stormed down the corridor. A few quiet words were exchanged before she turned to Verity and, with her first smile, said, “He’s ready for you now.”
Verity tried not to gape. That other guy looked like he was ready to rip someone’s head off. Didn’t he want a moment to calm down or something? And what the hell had the Lord Mayor said to piss him off so bad?
She had looked him up online, obviously, and Theodor Chapel might as well be the poster boy for vampires.
Handsome, professional, charismatic. Endless pictures and interviews of him at charity events and opening businesses and festivals.
Of course, he was on his seventeenth consecutive term in office.
Fitting in a bit of charity work during his sixty-odd years on the job would hardly be difficult.
“He has another meeting after you,” the secretary prompted, holding the door open and Verity sprang out of her seat.
“Of course,” she said, walking to the door, nerves making a sudden and unwelcome return.
She hovered at the threshold, peering into the room. Huge, lavish, and perfectly ostentatious. On one side sat a couple of couches, the other a long table and chairs for meetings, and in the middle was a desk, and a man, typing away, head down, as if she weren’t there.
“I’d say he doesn’t bite, but…” The woman grinned, still holding the door. Her smile widened enough for her fangs to press against her lip. Verity hadn’t even noticed she was a vampire, too.
“Stella,” came a warning tone from the stoic figure, still typing.
Her cheeks heated, no doubt matching the burgundy of the room she entered. The moment she was through the door Stella swiftly closed it behind her, leaving Verity to stand there like a fool, waiting for instruction.
“I am so sorry, Miss Harper,” he mumbled, gesturing to a seat in front of his desk without looking up. “I’ll be but a moment.”
Verity moved into the space, until she stood behind one of the chairs, holding it before her like the last line of defence.
Gods be damned, the photos didn’t do him justice. For a guy who was knocking six hundred, he looked to be her age. Deep chestnut hair and icy blue eyes, a sharp jawline and full lips that moved as he typed. Why were vampires always so hot? It really wasn’t fair.
A few clicks of the mouse and he pushed the keyboard away, standing to finally look at Verity.
“My apologies,” he said, smiling and moving around the table, a hand outstretched and shaking Verity’s before she realised she’d moved.
“You seem a little busy,” she said, and he barked a humourless laugh.
“Yeah, just a little.” He moved the two seats in front of his desk, so they were facing each other and took one. “Please,” he said, gesturing to the other.
She sat, so close their knees almost touched. She would have crossed her legs but she’d kick him if she did, so she squirmed, tugging her trousers straight.
“So, tell me a little about yourself,” he said, giving her his full and undivided attention.
What? What in the hells would he want to know about her. Her blood was A negative, what else mattered?
“Have you been donating for long?” he prompted.
“No, you’re the first… sir.” How should you address a Lord Mayor?
“Oh,” the sound came out high, brows raised. “What did you do before? And there’s no need for all that sir stuff here, Theo is fine. When it’s just us,” he added with a wink. “I think it’s important that donor and vampire get along.”
Verity fought her blush, brows knotting.
Was he being serious? This was not what she had expected, not at all.
Her hands fisted on her lap as she tried to find the right words.
Telling him about her dead career didn’t seem like a good idea, and his eyes were boring into her.
Smile unfaltering and more than a little sympathetic.
Phoenar, help her, she never got flustered, but he was throwing her off being all… nice.
“Or Theodor, if you’d prefer. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine. Just a little nervous,” she admitted, failing to hide the tremor in her voice.
“You’ve never done this before?”
“Nope.” She was fucking it up. He’d barely touched her and she was fucking it up. Breathing deep, heart racing, she looked up, staring at the chandelier.
The Lord Mayor, Theo, stood, walking across the room and returning with a glass and carafe.
“Here,” he said, pouring some water into the cup and placing it in her hand. “Take your time, there’s no rush.”
Verity sipped the water, face burning as she looked anywhere but at the vampire watching her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be silly,” he said. “You know you don’t have to do this. It isn’t too late to change your mind.”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be fine, promise.”
“Well, if you promise.”
A moment of silence passed as Verity drank the water, feeling calmer with every sip.
“Why did you join the Exchange? If you don’t mind my asking.” He leant forward with a conspiratorial smirk when she looked at him. “You can tell me to mind my business.”
Verity couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes, the tightness in her chest eased. She shrugged. “I need the money.”
The moment the words came out she regretted them. Something about him crept past her barriers.
He rested his elbows on his knees, eyes sparkling. “You know, I never trust the ones that say they do it to serve vampires or some nonsense.”
Trying not to laugh, she asked, “People really tell you that?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. The job tends to attract people that are…”
“A bit weird?” Verity finished.
“Now, I was not going to say that,” Theo said, hands raised in self-defence.
“No, you were trying to find a more… polite way of saying it.”
“Oh, we’re gonna get along just fine,” he laughed. “Assuming you aren’t having second thoughts?”
Verity smiled. “Just tell me what to do.”
He nodded, rubbing his hands on his trousers as if to warm them before holding a hand out. “May I?” he asked.