The disdain in his voice sticks in the air, allowing me to marinate in it. His comment is unusually cruel, even for him. Was the night we made our beautiful daughter really so bad? It was on a fancy exec jet like this one with sleek, black leather seats. That was also the night he finally told me the truth about what he was. I already knew, but the fact he trusted me with his secret opened a door in my heart that I haven’t been able to close.
I look across the aisle again and find him staring at me. Does he know how badly I’m hurting right now? Does he know how much his words still matter, or that it was thoughts of him that kept me alive all those years when Nice’s eccentricities made me want to jump off a tall bridge? Once, Nice made me stay up for ten days straight to binge-watch Supernatural. Over three hundred hours. It was thoughts of Michael that kept my head on straight. I imagined him at my side, saying, “Miriam, you’re strong. You can get through this. For Stella. Just pretend Dean is me.”
Then there was the time that Nice wanted to stay in the bubble bath for a month. I had to sit there for hours reading to him and refilling the tub with warm water. Then he made me use a whisk to keep the bubbles just so.
It was Michael who gave me the strength to carry on and stay focused on Stella when I didn’t have it in me.
“You are upset. I meant no offense,” he says. “You are a vampire now. Our kind is unable to procreate the human way.”
OTHER WORKS BY MIMI JEAN PAMFILOFF
COMING SOON!
The Dead King (King Series, Book 6) ← I’m not ready for this.
She’s Got the Money (Book 2) ← by M.O. Mack. That’s me!
Baby, Please (OHellNo, #7) Yummy football player with a baby, anyone?
God of Temptation (The Immortal Matchmakers, FINALE) ← For real this time!
THE ACCIDENTALLY YOURS SERIES
(Paranormal Romance/Humor)
Accidentally in Love with…a God? (Book 1)
Accidentally Married to…a Vampire? (Book 2)
Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? (Book 3)
Accidentally…Evil? (Novella, Book 3.5)
Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Book 4)
Accidentally…Cimil? (Novella, Book 4.5)
Accidentally…Over? (FINALE, Book 5)
THE BOYFRIEND COLLECTOR DUET
(New Adult/Suspense)
The Boyfriend Collector, Part 1
The Boyfriend Collector, Part 2
FANGED LOVE
(Standalone/Paranormal/Humor)
THE FATE BOOK DUET
(New Adult/Humor)
Fate Book
Fate Book Two
THE FUGLY DUET
(Contemporary Romance)
fugly
it’s a fugly life
THE HAPPY PANTS SERIES
(Standalones/Romantic Comedy)
The Happy Pants Café (Prequel)
Tailored for Trouble (Book 1)
Leather Pants (Book 2)
Skinny Pants (Book 3)
IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC., SERIES
(Standalones/Paranormal/Humor)
The Immortal Matchmakers (Book 1)
Tommaso (Book 2)
God of Wine (Book 3)
The Goddess of Forgetfulness (Book 4)
Colel (Book 5)
Brutus (Book 6)
God of Temptation (FINALE) ← 2021!
THE KING SERIES
(Dark Fantasy/Suspense)
King’s (Book 1)
King for a Day (Book 2)
King of Me (Book 3)
Mack (Book 4)
Ten Club (Book 5)
The Dead King (Book 6) ← Soon!
THE LIBRARIAN’S VAMPIRE ASSISTANT
(Standalones/Mystery/Humor)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant (Book 1)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant (Book 2)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant (Book 3)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant (Book 4)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant (Book 5, FINALE) ← You are here.
THE MERMEN TRILOGY
(Dark Fantasy/Suspense)
Mermen (Part 1)
MerMadmen (Part 2)
MerCiless (Part 3)
MR. ROOK’S ISLAND TRILOGY
(Contemporary/Suspense)
Mr. Rook (Part 1)
Pawn (Part 2)
Check (Part 3)
THE OHELLNO SERIES
(Standalones/New Adult/Romantic Comedy)
Smart Tass (Book 1)
Oh Henry (Book 2)
Digging A Hole (Book 3)
Battle of the Bulge (Book 4)
My Pen is Huge (Book 5)
Wine Hard, Baby (Book 6)
Baby, Please (Book 7) ← 2021!
SUITE #45 SERIES by M.O. MACK
(Chick Thriller/Suspense/Action)
She’s Got the Guns (Book 1) ← You are NOT here. But don’t you wanna be?
She’s Got the Money (Book 2) ← Early 2021
WISH, a Standalone Novel
(Romantic Comedy)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant,
Book 5
Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
A Mimi Boutique Novel
Copyright © 2020 by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks are not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover Design: Earthly Charms
Developmental Editing: Kelli Collins
Copyediting and Proof Reading: Pauline Nolet
Formatting: Paul Salvette
NOTE ABOUT BOOK PIRACY
“I’m not hurting anyone.”
“I can’t afford to buy books, so the author isn’t losing money. I’d never buy them anyway.”
“I don’t think it’s wrong. So many people do it.”
“I bought the ebook. I own it. I can share it.”
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. And nope!
As an author who supports her family on this income, it’s difficult to find the right words to convey how damaging illegal sharing and piracy is to me personally, to my fellow authors, and to the industry.
Bottom line, if a person buys a copy of a book or ebook, they do not now OWN the rights to that work. The author does. The reader has only purchased a license to that one, single copy.
In the case of paperbacks, that means a reader can share their copy with a friend, but they can’t print off five hundred copies and give them out.
In the case of ebooks, it means the reader has purchased a license, granted by the author, for one person only. The reader can share their ereader. Sure. Okay! They can even share a book via licensed, tracked, and controlled share programs that the author has opted into (such as on Kindle Sharing). BUT if the reader decides to share any other way, that’s making an illegal copy. That one illegal copy so innocently sent to friends or groups or posted on share sites can turn into hundreds, thousands, or millions.
Again, buying a book/ebook does not mean a reader now “
owns” the book. They do not own distribution rights. They do not have the right to take an author’s work and give it away to anyone as they see fit. Even libraries have special terms under which people can check out ebooks.
So please do not make illegal copies. Please do not share copies. Please do not download illegal copies.
As human beings, we all have a right to decide how we’re compensated for our work and time. Strangers, the public, and book pirate sites don’t have the right to decide for us.
As for these sites that claim they’re not doing anything wrong? The sites pirated book lovers go to and think they’re not hurting anyone? What sort of person would put up a website that uses stolen work (or encourages its users to share stolen work) in order to make money for themselves, either through website traffic or direct sales? Haven’t you ever wondered? Putting up thousands of pirated books onto a website or creating those anonymous ebook file-sharing sites takes time and resources. Quite a lot, actually.
So who are these people? Do you think they’re decent, ethical people with good intentions? Why do they set up camp anonymously in countries—Russia and Iran, for example—where they can’t be touched?
And the money they make from advertising every time you go to their website, or through selling stolen work, what are they using it for? The answer is you don’t know. They could be terrorists, organized criminals, or just greedy bastards. But one thing we DO know is that THEY ARE CRIMINALS who don’t care about you, your family, or me and mine. And their intentions can’t be good.
And every time someone illegally shares or downloads a book from one of these sites, THEY ARE BREAKING the law and HELPING these people BREAK THE LAW.
Meanwhile, people like me, who work to support a family and children, are left wondering why anyone would condone this. Assholes, I guess.
And for those who legally purchased/borrowed/obtained my work from a reputable retailer (not sure, just ask me!) muchas thank yous! You rock.
DEDICATION
To vampires.
Because only you can be sexy even when you’re being a-holes.
Also, you have superpowers, so there’s that.
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant
Book Five
CONTENTS
About the Book
Other Works by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Title Page
Copyright Page
Note about Book Piracy
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Message from Baby Nice
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon
Excerpt from King’s
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
Michael
“Request denied!” I snarl at the vampire, dressed in his cheap brown suit, kneeling on my office floor. “And do not return with such ridiculousness again, or I will take your head!”
I rap my fingertips on the arms of my leather exec chair. Being vampire king is a demanding role, but it is great to be back in Cincinnati, working in a proper office, living in my well-appointed home, and surrounded by my fine collection of first-edition books. My books. Clean books. No more of those vile, filthy library things I was forced to touch back in Arizona.
Blech! Libraries! Sharing is so unnatural.
That hot-and-miserable episode all began over five long years ago, when my maker was allegedly murdered during a trip to Phoenix. The next thing I knew, I was there looking for his killer and embroiled in a plot so dark and ridiculous that vampires for generations to come will be speaking of it: the Uprising. Thwarted by yours truly.
All right, fine. I suppose the librarian helped, too.
No. Do not think of her. Do not say her name.
I turn the channel in my mind away from thoughts of her, her library, and that other thing. Those days are over. No more sleuthing. No assistant librarian-ing. No more messing around. I care only for vampire laws and enforcing them.
But let us not get ahead of ourselves. Soulless, ruthless vampire or not, I am still a gentleman, and a gentleman always makes proper introductions.
My name is Michael Vanderhorst. And I am a four-hundred-year-old vampire who does not look a day over twenty. And though I have worn many hats throughout the history of my kind, I am best known for three things: One, being a legendary assassin, who delivered a smashing victory for our side during the Great War some three hundred years ago. Two, my looks—six-one, thick dark hair, and classically handsome features, if I do say so myself. And three, I am king. And I have big plans for the future of our kind.
Team Uprising wanted vampires to return to their caves and days of savagery, but I mean to take things in a different direction. I care for my people and their future.
Which is why they have put me on the throne. I am the lawmaker, judge, jury, and executioner. My word is absolute. No one defies me and lives to tell about it. As it should be.
“Sir?” My new guard, Freddy, who’s dressed in a plain black dress shirt and slacks, enters my office as my visitor bows repeatedly and shrinks backward out my office door in vampire headquarters. We are situated in a nondescript, five-story office building near downtown Cincinnati.
I look across the fine mahogany desk I acquired in the 1800s and note the worry in Freddy’s dark eyes.
“Great. What is it now?” I grumble.
He remains standing near the door some twenty feet away. It must be very bad news, and he fears I will kill the messenger because I have developed a reputation for ruling with a heavy hand. It is true, actually. Simply put, there is no other way to maintain vampire world order among our five hundred and eighty-two societies (our modern term for “coven”). Just this morning, after several lengthy trials, I executed two hundred vampires with my own hands. Well, hand, really. I only used one. I could not be bothered to put down my coffee—a fine Tanzania Peaberry.
Ahh…coffee. No morning is complete without it.
Now, if you are wondering what a vampire is doing drinking coffee, it means you are among the billions of humans who have been successfully duped by movies, books, and those ridiculous TV shows where all the vampires are constantly running around crying and having all those soppy, goopy feeeeeelings.
Wrong!
We are not pussies.
Fine, fine. Damon from season one of The Vampire Diaries was fairly on point with all his indiscriminate killing, so I will give him that; however, these shows are wholly inaccurate, and you will get no complaints from me. Human ignorance is our cloak. Keeps us flying under the radar.
No, no. We do not fly. We also do not live exclusively on human blood, though we do require it to stay alive. I myself prefer spicy vegan dishes. Lately, I’ve been on a veggie pad Thai kick. With extra ghost peppers. Delicious.
Another fact that may interest you is that vampires can walk in the sun. Yes, you heard it here, directly from me. We day walk. Vampires simply prefer not to. (A) It is hot; and (B) it weakens us. Nevertheless, I do it all the time. Just need to add a little extra “vitamin B” to my diet.
What is factual from these myth-based vampire shows is that we are stronger and faster than humans. Generally, the older one is, the more superior his or her strength. It is why it behooves a vampire to become a skilled fighter. As we grow older, our blood be
comes a sought-after power pill by younger vampires.
So. Now that we have those minor details out of the way, let us get on with the business at hand: ruling my people with an iron fist and rooting out traitors who participated in the Uprising. Once that task is complete, I will begin appointing new council members for our various geographies.
Oh, and there is also the chore of hunting down Mr. Nice—a deadly, ancient vampire who is more than just a little insane. He may not be a traitor, but he has wronged me. For the past few weeks, I have had hundreds of soldiers out looking for him, and just this morning, I dug up a lead. All on my own, I should add. I suppose my days of being a detective—profession #7—were not entirely a waste.
“Well,” I say to Freddy, who remains standing at attention by the door, “spit it out.”
“Sir, I come with a summons.”
But I am king. I do the summoning, not the other way around. “You may tell whoever sent the notice that they can come here and make an appointment like everyone else. And be sure to place them on the dusting list when they arrive.” Dusting is a term we use for death. We become a pile of fine gray ash when we meet our maker. I mean the other maker. Not the vampire one.
Freddy’s back straightens, and he refuses to meet my eyes.
“For heaven’s sake, man, what is it? Speak!” I command, wondering if the Indian place around the corner has run out of their extra-spicy baingan bharta again. Freddy knows how that upsets me.
“Sir, may I have your word you will not yell?”
“I give you my word that if you do not tell me what is going on inside that hollow undead head of yours, I will rip out your tongue.” I flash a sadistic smile.
He gulps, still refusing to look me in the eyes. “The summoner included a strongly worded message. She said, ‘If that pompous, heartless moron refuses my summons, and I am forced to go to Cincinnati, tell him I won’t be coming to talk unless it’s with my crossbow.’”
Crossbow.
There is only one person I know who has the balls to speak to me in such a manner and uses such a weapon.
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