“I can speak Japanese, French and Italian,” she said. “I can also read French and Italian, along with a bit of Elvish, although I can’t speak that with any fluency yet. I like languages, so I’m working on that. And I have degrees in accounting and computer science. I have experience with managing money, and I can build a firewall like nobody’s business. My skills may not be flashy or sexy, but I’m very good at what I do.”
The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. If she hadn’t already been staring at him so intently, she would have missed the subtle expression. “I disagree. Competence is quite sexy.”
She blinked. He had brought up sex twice in the last five minutes, but the utter dispassion with which he spoke left her with no room for misunderstanding. He wasn’t flirting, simply asking questions and stating facts as he saw them.
Still, she had no idea how to respond. Before she could decide, he asked, “How are you at breaking through firewalls?”
Of everything they had discussed so far, this was the one question that didn’t surprise her. Still, she hesitated as she decided how to answer. Most people didn’t really understand firewall security, or the fact that you didn’t actually break through a wall.
In the end, she chose to keep her answer simple. “I’m good at that too.”
“How good is good?”
“Very.” She had done more than her fair share of hacking in her teenage years, and she let the certainty fill her voice. “I also don’t promise anything I can’t deliver.”
His eyelids lowered. “Are you willing to do other things, besides accounting and computing?”
Involuntarily, she flashed to an image of them naked in a bed, with him bending over her, his normally composed, self-contained expression filled with fire and white, sharp fangs descended.
Something powerful welled up inside, although she had no idea what it was. Her emotions were already in a chaotic uproar, while he still wore the same, dispassionate expression.
Was he needling her to see how she would respond, or was he trying to find out how far she would go to get the position? She felt like she stood at the edge of a cliff, and her next step would send her hurtling into air.
Would she trade sex for safety, if he asked her to?
“That depends on what you ask me to do.” Her voice turned taut. “Some things are off-limits. I won’t be complicit in hurting innocents, and I won’t stand by and watch it happen. Among other things.”
If anything, his voice grew gentler. “I should have been more specific in my question. Your skills in accounting and computer programming are intriguing, but I maintain a small household by most standards. My attendants serve in different capacities and do a variety of different things.”
“What kind of things do you have them do?” Everything inside of her stilled as she waited to hear his answer.
“Think of it, if you will, as an intentional community,” he told her. “Each person is required to give blood, of course, but there are other duties that must be done for the good of the community. While I have no need for food, everyone else must eat; therefore Jordan, one of my attendants, is the cook. Another one, Angelica, looks after the house. When I have guests, I require that their needs be looked after. Raoul is in charge of security, and so forth. Most of these are not professional duties, but still they must be done.”
Was that all?
Dragging air into her constricted lungs, she said, “I see. Yes, of course, I would be willing to take on duties like that.”
His eyes narrowed. His expression turned severe, and suddenly she could see the age hidden underneath his apparent youthfulness. “No doubt, you will have heard some Vampyres require sex from their attendants. While that is true, I am not one of them. I might require difficult things from my attendants from time to time, but I do not put people who are under my care in such a position.”
It took her a moment to absorb what he said. Then the rigidity left her body as her muscles slowly unlocked. “Thank you for telling me.”
Moving two fingers, he brushed the subject aside in one beautifully economical gesture. “Do you have experience with firearms or other weapons?”
This time she didn’t hesitate. “No, but I’m strong, I have good hand-eye coordination and I’m willing to learn.”
He nodded. “Have you ever taken or wanted to take drugs?”
“Yes,” she said. “And no. Once I tried pot in college, but I didn’t like it. All it did was make me paranoid and hungry, and I don’t like to eat when I’m scared.” Again, she tried to read his expression and failed utterly. “Is that a problem?”