My Vampire Assistant

A cold wind blew at me, bringing smells of water from a river that, I knew, was only a block away from us. Once again I was glad that I put on a warm blouse on top of my favourite black ensemble of trousers and a shirt. Simple, but professional, if somewhat morbid. Then again, when dealing with vampires, wasn't that only appropriate?

Even without additional chill from my companion, spring evenings were chilly in St. Petersburg, even this close to the summer. As soon as sun went down, so did temperature.

My eyes were forcefully trained on JJ, who walked at my side. The urge to dismiss his presence and think about something besides him was as strong as an urge to stare at his ass when it was in my sight. Not impossible to resist, but noticeably hard.

"This is so weird," I said.

Good thing that at this time of the day, the streets, while not empty, weren't bustling either. I still caught a few curious glances on myself, but I was sure most people would assume that I just talked into a wireless headset.

"Careful, ma chèrie. If you keep staring at me so intently, something in your eyes might burst," JJ said with a smirk. I needed to force myself to concentrate on the sound of his voice, to not ignore him.

I turned my eyes on the road and scoffed, even as my lips curved up. "You usually like when I stare at you."

"Not at the expense of your health, ma chèrie."

I chuckled. "How nice of you to care."

We walked for several more minutes, exchanging light-hearted banter that masked my anxiety, until we reached the restaurant where I agreed to meet with my buyer. It was a high-end one, and a stingy part of my nature wondered if the buyer will pay for the meal.

"I'm expected to meet with someone," I said to the greeter girl. "His name is Gennadiy Leonidovich." Or at least this was what the buyer, who on the site went under the nickname Killian, said.

"Of course." The girl smiled at me. "Let me show you your private room."

Never once did she even glanced at JJ—a sure proof that his glamour worked as intended. As the greeter showed me the way, I thought that if my protection from it wasn't absolute (as the practice showed), it was in JJ's power to make himself more attractive to me, too.

Good thing he didn't do it—be that from simple respect for my free will or from the fact that it would've been too easy for him. I would've swooned like the girls from the romance books. Yuck.

The girl left me as I reached the room. I took a deep breath, taking comfort in the knowledge that JJ was standing right behind me, and walked in.

Inside of the small room, more of a booth even, was a single table. A man, tall and wide-shouldered, sat at it. He was dressed in a well-fitting dark blue suit, and his black hair was styled short. I decided to call him Croc in my head. Short from Crocodile. Gennadiy the Crocodile. Hopefully not for real.

He stood up as I walked in, and I saw his clear grey eyes taking me in as he offered his hand for a handshake.

"You must be Diana," he said, as I shook it.

His handshake was firm, but not too firm. What was most important for me, it was as warm as a human hand should be—not unnaturally cold or hot or anything. I noticeably relaxed. He was a human!

Now that just left me to make my first personal sale with no one to act as a support except for JJ, who wasn't even supposed to be there. Before he died, my dad took me with him to meet clients a couple of times, so I knew the routine—but it was completely different to be on my own here.

I screamed with panic on the inside, but kept my face serious and nodded at the man as if nothing was wrong. The hardest part was to not shake.

"Yes. And you must be Gennadiy Leonidovich," I said.

"Just Gennadiy," he said, smiling at me with more that business interest. "Let's eat first, if you aren't against it? This restaurant has great steaks."

"Of course." I could tell now from his look that Gennadiy will definitely pay for my part of the bill.

That's not to say I was going to encourage his advances.

We sat at the table opposite of each other, and with my peripheral vision I watched JJ lean on a wall sideways from me. When Croc turned his eyes at the menu, I looked at JJ. He gave me a wink, and I bit the inner side of my cheek to not smile.

"Have you picked your order, Diana?" Croc asked when I turned back to him. He must've thought I had my head in the clouds right now.

I shrugged. I wished I was there without Croc. Then I could've explored the menu as long as I wanted without feeling awkward about it—and exploring the menu in new restaurants always took a long time for me.

"I don't know what's the best here," I said instead. "You should choose for me. Just, please, avoid spicy foods."

He nodded. "Will you give me the choice of wine, too?"

I shook my head with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I don't drink. Just a tea, please."

Croc frowned. "It's really a crime to eat steak without red wine…"

"No. I have an alcohol allergy," I lied. The truth was that I simply hated the taste—but sometimes etiquette required drinking. Thankfully, Croc seemed to accept my excuse.

He called a waiter with a button installed on the table and gave him our orders. I prepared for a long and awkward wait, but was met with something even worse as Croc leaned forward in his seat, staring at me with a gleam in his eyes.

"I hope this isn't too forward, but can I ask if you are seeing anyone, Diana?"

Croc's flirting.