"Well, I can't have you sitting around my house all night unsupervised and unoccupied. Idle hands are the devil's opportunity to break my furniture and walls."
"Your walls?" I asked.
"Jamie," she and Ben said together.
"Wow."
"So, instead of leaving you alone with my precious, vulnerable walls, we are going to find something fun and exciting for you to do."
Ben's voice brightened. "Like what?"
"You will be coming to work with me at the Council office," Jane said. "This is a congratulations potluck!"
///
Ben and I both made disappointed noises, and Dick was doubled over laughing. But the good news was that this new development in employment was enough to distract me from how wonderful Zeb's blood smelled.
"Like a Take Your Daughter to Work Day thing? We're going to sit in your break room and color until it's time to come home?" I asked.
"No, doing actual work, so you will earn college credit for your trouble, which will keep you both from losing whatever classes you aren't able to take online," Dick said. "So, Ben, we know you're basically Bill Gates without the scary glasses. You can help with the database project. If you're comfortable with that."
Ben shrugged. "Er, sure. I can do that."
"And you, Meagan, what were you studying at school?" Jane asked.
"I was-I am. I am an English major."
"An English major," Jane said, frowning. "What were you planning to do with that? Teach?"
"I really don't like kids that much," I told her. "I thought maybe grad school, teaching at a college level."
"Hmmm."
"I know, I was not preparing myself for life postvampire or postgraduation," I admitted.
"How would you feel about being my personal assistant?" she asked.
"Woefully underqualified."
She waved my concerns away with a flick of her hand. "It's not that complicated. You manage my schedule, protect me from seeing people I don't want to see, answer some phones. I only ask because my last secretary, Margaret, was disturbingly loyal to Ophelia. And she'd been sabotaging my schedule, not reporting phone calls, not sending my expense reports to the finance department. I had to fire her in a way that involved the human and vampire police . . . and animal control. I need someone I can trust."
"And that person is me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yes," Jane said, smiling and patting my shoulder. "I think you'll do great."
The corners of my mouth pulled back into a frown.
Jane sighed. "And as a signing bonus, I'll let you video chat with your friends. I know how hard you've been trying. You deserve to be rewarded."
"That is sort of manipulative."
She nodded. "Yes, it is. Take it or leave it."
"I'll take it."
She patted my back. "Of course, if you screw up, I'll make you work in the mail room."
I shuddered. I'd heard about some of the mail room employees. They were not my people.
"Are we finished with this touching moment? Because I'm starving," Jane said.
The other vampires in the room cheered.
We gathered around Jane's dining-room table, where Jane ladled cups of blood from pots into fancy crystal punch cups. Jane raised her glass to our new jobs, which made that hesitant expression return to Ben's face. I didn't know what Andrea did to the blood, but it was one of my favorite things I'd tried since being turned, deep and fruity without being too sweet. Meanwhile, Jolene ate her weight in ribs, while Zeb ate . . . less than his weight in ribs. But smiled at Jolene like seeing his wife's face smeared with barbecue sauce was the most adorable thing ever.
Despite the fact that the group was relatively huge, even I could see the obvious, loving connections among them all, the ease in the way they spoke to one another. They were family, the kind of family people chose to be with, instead of hoping for "unavoidable" overtime on holidays.
I wondered if I was going to have enough time here to feel like a part of it.
The very next sunset, Jane made good on her promise to let me video chat with Morgan and Keagan. She did insist that the conversation take place in her study, where she could supervise it, but I was so excited to talk to my friends I barely registered the invasion of privacy.
Jane's study was a bit more weirdo-quirky than the rest of the house. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the room, every shelf stuffed with leather-bound first editions, mass-market paperbacks, softcover trades. And where there weren't books, there were strange ceremonial bowls, a Ravenclaw mug with rusty-looking residue near the rim, Funko Pop! versions of Sansa Stark and Oberyn Martell, candles inscribed with symbols from Supernatural, a little framed quote from Persuasion, and, oddly enough, little pewter fairy statues, which she'd put in a glass case labeled with a small brass sign that said, "Unsellable Case of Shame."