"I'm busy," Mattias said as the doors of the elevator rattled open, revealing the dingy little office he'd used for the past century. Behind his desk, rain battered against an ancient window. Smoke and sound from downstairs wafted up through the warped floorboards, filling the office with a perpetual haze and muted cries of revelry.
He stood with his back to her, holding a length of measuring tape along the outstretched arm of a tall, slender woman who wore nothing but a set of white lingerie and held herself with the grace of a ballerina. The woman's hair was pulled into a tight bun, adding to the image. Her mouth fell slack as she took in Natalie's appearance.
Mattias himself wore a brocade vest in black and gold over a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, and a charcoal jacket matching his neat slacks was draped over a nearby chair. His hair was shorter than when she'd last seen him, brushed back in fluffy brown curls.
"It's Natalie Stoia, master," said a young man to her left with a well kept mustache and hair shaved on the sides in what Natalie assumed was a trendy fashion.
The man, Mattias' familiar, sat cross-legged on a red velvet sofa pushed against the wall, scribbling away in a leather bound notebook while his master took measurements. Across the room, the sofa's twin was covered in a messy stack of newspapers.
Mattias turned. "You look like shit."
Natalie hadn't trusted herself near Paige after losing so much blood, so she'd flown here without changing. Flight was a risky venture in this day and age, but the winter storm outside made for good cover. Thunder clapped, reverberating through the building.
"Why do you still operate out of this dump?" Natalie tossed her ruined boots aside where they clattered to the floor, earning a frown from the familiar.
"I'm sentimental. Not all of us are as heartless as you." Mattias turned his attention to his familiar and said, "Forty seven."
"What was the
exact
measurement?" he replied without looking up.
"Just write the number down, Joseph."
The familiar, Joseph, raised his gaze and fixed his master with a hard stare. Mattias' tolerance for such disobedience had always baffled her. She'd known him for centuries, and had a begrudging respect for his talent and discretion, but he'd always treated his familiars as partners. Not quite equals, but more friend than servant.
"Forty six,
and six eighths centimeters
." Mattias answered dramatically.
Joseph began to write.
"You can put your arm down." Mattias said to the woman who did as she was told. "What can I do for you, Ms. Stoia?"
Mattias didn't seem concerned about the woman's presence and now that she'd recovered from the initial shock of Natalie's arrival, her face remained impassive.
She knew, then. A courtesan.
Natalie hungrily drank in the woman's body. She didn't much resemble Paige, but she might still make an acceptable substitute. In her fevered state, Natalie suspected anyone would. It had been a long time since she'd lost this much blood.
"I need to feed." she said.
The woman's pulse accelerated, but Mattias laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "Don't worry dear. I think Ms. Stoia is a little too hungry to turn her loose on you. Joseph, would you mind?"
"Yes, master." Joseph said.
Natalie turned her attention to the familiar as he snapped the notebook shut, leaving it on the sofa and moving to stand before her.
He took in her clothes, now soaked through and semi-transparent in addition to the damage from Paige's attack. After a deep breath, he turned away from her, sank to his knees, and unbuttoned his shirt. He lowered it enough to expose his neck and upper back and waited, perfectly composed. Only his scent gave him away.
It was taboo to harm another kin's familiar. Mattias' meaning was clear:
Don't lose control.
Natalie crouched, resting her hands against Joseph's shoulder blades, and bit into the firm flesh where neck met shoulder. The muscles in his back tightened beneath her hands as she drank.
Blood was pure vitality. Life itself. Joseph tasted like sunlight and pine. Pipe tobacco and jasmine tea. Natalie preferred the piquant flavor of her pets, but she understood why Mattias' kept the boy around.
"What does it feel like?" the courtesan asked in a whisper as though Natalie was asleep, and she was afraid to wake her.
"It's painful at first," Joseph answered, "but quite pleasant once the burning fades."
Joseph relaxed, clearly used to being fed upon. Natalie wished he would fight back. It felt wrong, somehow, for a human not to recognize their peril. Not to struggle. Mattias' parlor had allowed generations of kin to delude themselves into denying what they were, and his courtesans had grown comfortable among them.
Natalie ached to show this new girl the true face of her clientele. Her hands drifted up to Joseph's shoulders where her claws dug into his skin, and a delicious tang of fear seeped into the boy's blood.
"The bite itself isn't what you need to worry about dear. It's the blood loss if a client doesn't know when to stop," Mattias said.
Natalie begrudgingly, and with considerable effort, tore herself away from Joseph. Sated, but not satisfied. She met Mattias' eyes as she pricked her thumb against her fang and rubbed the blood into Joseph's wounds. They began to knit.
"I take it you killed my man at the elevator?" Mattias asked as she stood.
"He tried to stop me." Natalie said with a shrug, quietly relishing the courtesan's gasp.
The fledgeling vampire guarding the entrance to Mattias' office hadn't recognized her and she didn't have the patience to educate him. It had been nearly a decade since she'd last visited Claret Street, but there were still too many new faces. Too much young blood. The court had grown lax in their duties.
It's no longer your problem,
Natalie reminded herself.
"Joseph, take Dahlia to the the changing rooms...and deal with Ms. Stoia's mess downstairs." Mattias said, clearly exasperated.
The familiar snatched up Natalie's dripping boots and ignored her as he passed. Dahlia hurriedly wrapped herself in a robe and gave Natalie as wide a berth as was possible in the cramped office as she shuffled past.
Mattias threw himself down on the sofa with the newspapers and they crumpled beneath him. A few stray pages drifted to the floor. He propped himself up on one arm and faced her, exuding boyish curiosity.
"Why are you really here Natalie?" Mattias asked, using her first name now that they were alone.
"There's been a problem."
Natalie fished Paige's ID and cell phone from her pockets and tossed them to Mattias, then began to strip. She peeled away the tattered clothing, leaving it in a wet pile, and arranged herself across the empty sofa where Joseph had sat. It was still warm.
"Paige Clarke." Mattias read aloud, "She's pretty. More so than your usual fare. I can see why you slipped up."
"I didn't
slip up,
" Natalie grumbled, "There were extenuating circumstances."
"So you need me to what? Find this girl? Did she get away from you or..."
"No. She's locked in the basement."
"Oh." Mattias turned, taking in her naked form with a distant appreciation. Like he was sizing up a prospective hire. "Then what's the issue? If it's the usual background check I can get back to you in a week or so." Slyness crept into his voice as he continued, "But if that was all you needed you wouldn't be here in person. Would you?"
"I wasn't planning to take her at all, but..." Natalie threw an arm across her face, burying her eyes in the crook of her elbow. "It just kind of happened."
"Violently, judging from your appearance."
Natalie felt herself smile. "Yes."
"So what's your plan now? The usual?"
"I don't want to tame her."
