My chair creaked in protest as I
leaned back. It was old, as was most of Brimstone's equipment.
I
scanned over the fifth floor offices. Desks were arranged in a pattern that never seemed to make sense to me, although I never was an office person. I would much rather be outside on the hunt, under the moon and stars.
I was a Vampire after all.
Sitting quietly at my desk, my fingertips hovered above the keyboard. It was nearing two thirty in the morning and there was still paperwork to be done. I sighed, so much for my night off. Instead, I was at the office, holding a Master Vampire in the basement cells, and staring at a sickly green computer monitor. I tapped the Vampire's name, which turned out to be Garrett Asp, into the database. With a twisted sense of satisfaction, I added “Vlad” into the known aliases field. Garrett was far too mundane for a Vampire. It had no romance, no sense of mystery. It was simply a name not unlike any one could encounter daily.
"Rose?"
Not unlike my name.
I spun in my chair to find Toby leaning uncomfortably against the desk behind me. His face was drawn, flushed, and tired. Dark bags hung under his eyes. The clothes he had taken from the reserve downstairs weren't even close to his size. They hung oddly from his lean frame, looking as though he were about to drown in the orange polo he wore. His salty gray hair was a mess and his hands were shaking slightly. It wasn't easy on the body to transform into a Werewolf and back, especially for one who had been turned rather than born. And that was exactly what happened to Toby about seven years ago. Still, in his weakened condition, he had been able to sneak up on me. “You look like hell,” I offered. "Thanks,” Toby replied with a half-hearted smile. Even though he was exhausted, he still kept a wary eye on me. He didn't trust me completely, and I'm not sure he ever would. I was a soulless, evil Vampire in his eyes, even though I wasn't evil, or particularly soulless. For some reason long ago, Vampires and Werewolves had fought a bloody war against each other. No one was sure exactly what caused it, as no records remain from that era, but both species were nearly decimated. Some of that hostility remained today, especially in Werewolves. Most hated Vampires. It was that simple. But Toby was different. I crossed my legs and placed my hands firmly on the arms of my chair. “Thank you,” I said softly. His eyes searched mine for a moment. “For?" "Helping me."
Toby modestly brushed away my gratitude with his hand as if it were nothing. “I was just lucky enough to be there. Plus, it was nice to smack around a couple of Vamps,” he added with a smirk. There was a distinct possibility that I would be dead ...um, deader if he hadn't shown up. Even if he didn't think so, I owed Toby.
We fell into a comfortable silence. I had been partially responsible for training Toby for his promotion to Seeker. It must have been a joke from the Powers That Be to pair a Vampire and Werewolf, or just
scanned over the fifth floor offices. Desks were arranged in a pattern that never seemed to make sense to me, although I never was an office person. I would much rather be outside on the hunt, under the moon and stars.
I was a Vampire after all.
Sitting quietly at my desk, my fingertips hovered above the keyboard. It was nearing two thirty in the morning and there was still paperwork to be done. I sighed, so much for my night off. Instead, I was at the office, holding a Master Vampire in the basement cells, and staring at a sickly green computer monitor. I tapped the Vampire's name, which turned out to be Garrett Asp, into the database. With a twisted sense of satisfaction, I added “Vlad” into the known aliases field. Garrett was far too mundane for a Vampire. It had no romance, no sense of mystery. It was simply a name not unlike any one could encounter daily.
"Rose?"
Not unlike my name.
I spun in my chair to find Toby leaning uncomfortably against the desk behind me. His face was drawn, flushed, and tired. Dark bags hung under his eyes. The clothes he had taken from the reserve downstairs weren't even close to his size. They hung oddly from his lean frame, looking as though he were about to drown in the orange polo he wore. His salty gray hair was a mess and his hands were shaking slightly. It wasn't easy on the body to transform into a Werewolf and back, especially for one who had been turned rather than born. And that was exactly what happened to Toby about seven years ago. Still, in his weakened condition, he had been able to sneak up on me. “You look like hell,” I offered. "Thanks,” Toby replied with a half-hearted smile. Even though he was exhausted, he still kept a wary eye on me. He didn't trust me completely, and I'm not sure he ever would. I was a soulless, evil Vampire in his eyes, even though I wasn't evil, or particularly soulless. For some reason long ago, Vampires and Werewolves had fought a bloody war against each other. No one was sure exactly what caused it, as no records remain from that era, but both species were nearly decimated. Some of that hostility remained today, especially in Werewolves. Most hated Vampires. It was that simple. But Toby was different. I crossed my legs and placed my hands firmly on the arms of my chair. “Thank you,” I said softly. His eyes searched mine for a moment. “For?" "Helping me."
Toby modestly brushed away my gratitude with his hand as if it were nothing. “I was just lucky enough to be there. Plus, it was nice to smack around a couple of Vamps,” he added with a smirk. There was a distinct possibility that I would be dead ...um, deader if he hadn't shown up. Even if he didn't think so, I owed Toby.
We fell into a comfortable silence. I had been partially responsible for training Toby for his promotion to Seeker. It must have been a joke from the Powers That Be to pair a Vampire and Werewolf, or just