My Vampire Assistant

I didn't know whether vampires needed to sleep, and when, but I was glad that there was a free room in my apartment, even if it was once my dad's. JJ could live there, safely away from my room, which even had a deadbolt. Wouldn't save me from a vampire, but a comfort nonetheless.

"You didn't need to bother yourself with such things, ma chèrie." JJ smiled in response to my offer. "I've slept an entire century. I don't think I will fall asleep in a month."

"Good to hear. Feel free to pull an all-nighter on Internet, then," I said to him, feeling my eyelids growing heavier by a minute. It was a tiring day. "Good night, JJ, and don't make my computer explode."

It was fairly late when I woke up in the morning, but it's not like I needed to open the shop today. Until I dealt with collectors, it was a pointless idea.

So without hurry, I washed up, dressed in my casual ensemble: black blouse, black pants, black boots—mournful, stylish and just a little goth. Today, though, a heap of silver chains was added to it, hidden under the blouse's high collar. Then I ate an omelette for breakfast and took my time staring at myself in a mirror.

Despite the shock of yesterday and an ancient vampire calling me a witch (which I still didn't really believe), I looked just as always.

I had an oval face and features that fit it well, in my modest opinion. My skin was pale from nature, lack of sun and contrast with everything else, but not even close to real vampire paleness. My hair, long, straight and black as coal, fell to my shoulder blades. I sometimes put it into a ponytail for convenience, but today I decided to just be pretty and let it down.

My eyes were my favourite part. Under a normal light they were murky green, but under direct sunlight (or if I shone a flashlight in my eye) they turned crispy-blue. I realised that I actually fit a stereotypical witchy look with my hair, clothes and these eyes.

This was when I decided it was time to do business before I had any more thoughts about witching things.

I knew I wouldn't be able to run my shop alone. There were a few people working under my dad, but they all left when they heard about the shop's upcoming bankruptcy. That meant I needed to find replacements for them first, and that wasn't so easy either…

JJ wasn't in the apartment, but a quick glance showed neither he was in the office. I wondered if he left the building, but after searching a little longer, I found him in the basement.

He looked radically different from yesterday. He took a shower, and wore new clothes again—still a shirt, but now coupled with black jeans, both actually his size. His hair shone with peachy highlights in the glow of the electric lights.

He crouched on the ground next to the sealed coffin I freed him from, his expression pensive and faraway so much that for a minute I didn't dare to interrupt him. But as time passed without him reacting to my presence, there grew a desire in me… to startle him, just as he startled me. In the end, it took the best of me.

"Good morning, JJ!" I shouted, and was immensely disappointed when he didn't even flinch. Instead, he just stood up and looked at me with one of his flirty smiles.

"Good morning to you too, ma chèrie. Is there a reason you are shouting?"

I fought not to blush and ignored the embarrassing beginning of that conversation. "I have two questions for you: when you are going to do your part of our deal, and where did you get these clothes?"

"Oh, I was just thinking about your financial troubles, ma chèrie. This coffin, for a start, should sell for a lot if I find out how to contact a buyer." JJ's voice and posture were nonchalant, but he couldn't quite hide an unease in his eyes. "I will also be glad to get rid of it."

It didn't escape me that he avoided the second question, and I remembered to repeat it later. Now I frowned because of the coffin. It certainly wasn't a fake, with JJ getting out of it and all that, but try to explain that to any art expert. "Who would ever want to buy it?"

"Isn't that obvious, ma chèrie? A supernatural relic… for supernatural collectors. The seal itself, even broken, worth its weight in gold. I only hope that the people I knew might be interested didn't move or die while I was its prisoner."

I gasped at the idea. "Supernatural antique market… Oh. My. God. This is the coolest thing I've heard." I stared at JJ with wide eyes. "JJ, I must see it."

I could already imagine it. Normal antiquities were impressive on their own. There was something worth respect in a thought that these things were older than me by decades, if not centuries. Many of them were just fascinating on their own. And their histories…

Now add vampires who can hoard things for centuries without need to fear that their heirs will sell everything away. Sprinkle magic on top and voila! The endless potential for awesomeness was there, and because of JJ I was a part of it now.

I wasn't so excited since ever.

"Of course, ma chèrie, but it can take some time. Until then, I found one of my old stashes," JJ said. "I left it on your office deck. Consider it my gift of gratitude. You should have no problems selling the contents."

I must have missed it. "Thanks, gonna check it out." I gave him a smile and went towards the stairs. I hoped whatever he brought was good. Maybe it was a real-life buried treasure…

Then I realised JJ must have gone out at night, and wondered if he had hypnotised someone out of their money, clothes, motorcycle, and blood on the way. That'd explain the new things. The ethics of it… were beyond questionable, but to question them in his face didn't seem like a smart idea.

I was interrupted on my way to the office by a buzzing of the doorbell. That meant visitors, and lately they were all unwelcome.. On a good side—and there always was one—at least this time they realised I had one.