Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1)

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Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1) Page 4

by Aurélie Venem


  After my shower, I put on the white shirt and the black pants. I opted for the ballerina flats, the only shoes without heels. Lastly, I gathered my hair into my usual ponytail. What I saw in the mirror wasn’t bad. I really looked like an assistant . . . at a law firm. That was a big change from the high school librarian in jeans and sneakers.

  After one last look at my reflection, I left my room and headed to the kitchen—curious to find out what time it was and to eat some breakfast.

  The room was bathed in soft winter sunlight, and the windows looked out onto a magnificent garden that I hadn’t been able to see the night before. A large, perfectly manicured lawn extended out to the high walls around the property; at the foot of the walls, rosebushes and little thickets livened up the garden, even though it was winter. A solitary weeping willow gave the whole scene a nostalgic touch. It protected the intimacy of a little wooden bench that was likely a lovely place to read when the weather was warmer.

  My stomach growled rather ungraciously, reminding me that I needed to eat. The clock on the oven read 1:15 p.m. Although the breakfast hour was long past, I took advantage of the kitchen equipped entirely for human use to make myself coffee and something to eat.

  When I was done, I decided I wasn’t risking anything by taking a few steps into the garden for some fresh air. I’d spotted a large closet by the entryway, and I hoped I’d find a coat there since Velvet Voice hadn’t put one in the armoire. Sure enough I opened the door to find a very chic long black coat with a fake-fur collar, a matching hat, a white scarf, and leather gloves. My host had thought of everything.

  I walked out onto the front steps, taking in my surroundings. On the left were huge metal gates that opened and closed over a gravel path; the height of the gates, combined with that of the outer walls, undoubtedly deterred the curious. The garage was actually a kind of brick double-entry storehouse with modern electric rolling doors, which hid the cars from view. What exactly would a five-hundred-year-old vampire drive? Given how modern the kitchen was, I imagined he might have abandoned the idea of a horse and cart; in any case, I hadn’t seen any stables. Maybe he drove an Aston Martin like James Bond or a Dodge Charger like the brothers in The Dukes of Hazzard or maybe even one of those small European cars like the Smart car or the Renault Twingo? No, I didn’t know the proprietor of this place very well, but I was sure he wasn’t the type to drive around in an old jalopy.

  I went down the steps and began my stroll in the garden. The walk itself was restorative and invigorating, but I had to wonder who looked after it all. Velvet Voice didn’t have the look of a landscaper . . . perhaps he had another enslaved helper as a gardener?

  Sitting on the bench under the willow tree, I realized I hadn’t been mistaken about “my” new residence: it was indeed a manor. Not enormous, but still impressive, with a brick facade typical of the eighteenth century and a blue slate roof. The number of windows (their shutters carefully closed on the upper level) made me wonder how long my exploration would take.

  Chilled to the bone, I took a deep breath and looked once more at the gardens before I went back inside, where it was considerably warmer. I wandered around for the purpose of discovering my new residence and workplace. On the ground floor, there was the kitchen, the dining room, and the parlor, as well as a series of smaller rooms, all just as refined in their decor. I didn’t stop at the bathroom (I knew it well already), but I did step into a small study, which was furnished with a bookcase, a desk with a state-of-the-art computer atop it, a chair, and a black leather sofa. I inspected the books and found several law books, foreign language dictionaries, and some philosophical works. This selection reminded me of the big library my host had mentioned.

  A number of doors on the upstairs level were locked, but when I finally found the library, I was astonished. The room was bigger than my bedroom suite, and it was filled with carved bookshelves packed with books that were organized by subject: philosophy, history, geography, literature. The leather sofas, identical to the one in the study, created an inviting, relaxing setting for reading. Velvet Voice was right when he said I would be in my element in this room.

  An illuminated glass case on the far side of the room caught my eye. The object on display took my breath away: it was an incunabulum, a book printed sometime between 1450 and 1501.

  I couldn’t get over it. My new employer, despite his deadly tendencies, at least cared about cultivating himself. He said he’d collected books over the years, but that was quite a modest description. This made my opinion of him rise a little.

  After I completed a full tour of the room, I picked out a few books and got so immersed in the story of a knight who had lived during the Hundred Years’ War that I jumped when I heard a voice.

  “I knew I would find you here.”

  Velvet Voice stood in the doorway. Every part of him exuded power and danger, though he didn’t have a menacing attitude (fortunately, or else I would’ve wanted to make like an ostrich and dig a hole to hide my head in while waiting to get eaten). I was impressed by his presence and charisma.

  “I’ve never seen a place like this . . . it’s marvelous,” I said, smiling sincerely.

  His perpetual sardonic smile, which exasperated me so much, began to materialize again on his face.

  “Curious how all it took was a few books to put you in a better disposition toward me.”

  “You call this a few books? It’s more than I could ever accumulate in my lifetime!”

  “You forget that I have had several lifetimes to put this collection together.”

  “Well, at least you’re educated. Someone who likes to enrich the mind couldn’t be completely evil.”

  “Your logic is quite strange. Do not forget that I am a vampire, and consequently, evil is part of me.”

  “Believe me, if there is one thing I won’t forget, it’s definitely that.”

  “So much the better. Trusting a vampire is the worst error you can make. Since our nature has changed, our conscience does not torment us if we betray someone. That will be the first, and most important, lesson of your training.”

  “Don’t ever trust a vampire,” I repeated.

  He nodded earnestly. If I’d been an elementary school student, I think I would have gotten a gold star.

  “Hm, and all the more so when the vampire is your boss?” I added.

  He turned away, but I was able to see his smirk. Obviously, I had a comedic soul . . .

  Ridiculous would be a more appropriate adjective. I knew I wouldn’t get an answer from him.

  “Come, we will discuss all that in my office,” he said as he exited the library.

  I followed him without saying a word, wondering what the nature of my job as his assistant would be. If it was only filling out paperwork for his mysterious employers, I considered myself rather fortunate in my misfortune. But a feeling of foreboding nagged at me, leaving me to think that my life may have been spared, but I certainly wouldn’t gain anything from it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Training

  “Please, have a seat.”

  He sat down behind his desk and indicated the chair facing him. My fate was in Velvet Voice’s hands, and his civilized tone gave me the impression of being interviewed by the director of human resources. I couldn’t wait anymore to know what fate had in store for me.

  “Tell me what you expect from me.”

  He leaned forward and folded his hands together. He looked like a politician about to announce to the nation his important plan for economic austerity. I felt like I was about to be made indignant by his words (as indignant as the Spanish anti-austerity Indignados).

  “As I said, I am a practical man, and I hate the administrative side of my work. My employers, I do not know why, like very detailed reports, and writing them up is true torture for me.”

  “Why not ask another vampire to help you?”

  “Have you already forgotten your first lesson? The missions that I am charged to carry out are se
cret and must remain so. Particularly for those of my kind.”

  I snickered. “Let’s not forget that it’s much simpler to put pressure on a human woman who doesn’t have immortality. What do you do exactly? Are you a secret agent for Her Vampire Majesty?”

  “The less you know about our hierarchical organization, the better off you will be. But that is roughly it.”

  Imagining Daniel Craig as a sexy vampire James Bond was completely effortless, but the image was superimposed by that of Queen Elizabeth II, with her mop of gray hair in the wind, baring her fangs. I shivered. God save the Queen indeed.

  He continued, “Do you know how to use a computer?”

  “Of course.”

  I could at least be proud of my abilities in that regard. I was good with computers, especially since, with no friends, I had plenty of time to devote to them.

  “You don’t?”

  “I never had the time to learn,” he said.

  Surprised, I pointed at the computer on his desk.

  “Then what’s that for? Decoration?”

  “I bought it not long ago. I looked among the vampires I know for someone who could help me get familiar with this machine. Computers aren’t widely used by us. Some vampires are so bound to tradition that they do not even want to hear about it and swear by paper alone.”

  As he spoke, he rolled his eyes to make sure I knew what he really thought of that. Before stopping to measure what I was about to say, I blurted out, “I could teach you.”

  He stared at me so intensely that I had to lower my eyes.

  “I mean, if you wanted,” I finished.

  That was just like me. Samantha the Good Samaritan. I should’ve held my tongue. If he had hired me, it was also so he wouldn’t have to spend his time on the computer. As if at twenty-eight I could teach a five-hundred-year-old historical figure a thing or two. Moreover, he had kidnapped me, so what possessed me to offer to help him? It was stupid of me, really.

  However, his response was the opposite of what I feared.

  “Yes, I would like that.”

  “Really?”

  “I should really make an effort, at least know the basics, should you die while carrying out your duties.”

  At that I was speechless. I tried to spot the joke . . . but I’d forgotten. Velvet Voice, what a prankster! Not really the type to make little jokes. Good grief.

  “Wh-what? I thought I only had to take care of the paperwork. Like a secretary.”

  “You are my assistant, not my secretary. Consequently, you will go on missions with me.”

  “But . . . but . . .”

  “Rest assured, I shall not put you in any danger. All that I ask of you is to take notes.”

  “So I run no risk?”

  “Well, I did not say that. My duties give me a certain status in vampire society, but they also mean I make enemies. Someone could attack you just to get to me.”

  My mouth became as dry as the Sahara. I felt my heart beating more than necessary, too much more. He must have heard the hubbub in my rib cage because he continued, “But I do not think that will happen. You will learn that our kind, we have very high opinions of ourselves, and we do not demean ourselves with practices contrary to our dignity. If we wanted to make you disappear, we would pay human assassins to do the dirty work. That reduces the danger.”

  “That’s supposed to be reassuring? I certainly feel better now!” I said with irony.

  “Do not be mistaken. Your work, in every case, will be dangerous. Nevertheless, I shall give you the means to defend yourself. I shall teach you to fight.”

  “Fight? Have you taken a good look at me? I’m as squishy as a marshmallow and as quick as a snail! I have no chance whatsoever against a vampire.”

  “There is always a chance, if you know how to take advantage of it. Against a human, you will be fully capable of getting by, and you will do me honor as your instructor.”

  I frowned at his last remark.

  “So, to be clear, I should avoid dying stupidly if it means preserving your honor and your reputation.”

  I tried to overcome the rage that had been tormenting me since he’d announced the nature of my work and the risks he was making me take. I was certain that this was all going to backfire and I would pay the price. That awful foreboding feeling that was plaguing me materialized, and I almost started to regret being alive. Why on earth did I have to pass by that alley? The rage got bigger than me, and I exploded.

  “You sure have some nerve! You turn me into a night owl, like you, to risk my life, not like you, and what’s more, if I die, I have to do it with the panache of Cyrano de Bergerac so that you can show yourself among your bloodsucker friends while boasting about having toyed around with a human woman, teaching her some wrestling holds! You know what, you are a sick man!”

  I got up, flush with anger, and tried to leave the room. Velvet Voice didn’t give me enough time.

  I saw nothing coming. In a fraction of a second, he was in my way, blocking my exit. Crouching in an attack position, his eyes had become luminescent, but not yellow like the eyes of the other two, the ones who wanted to annihilate me. His eyes were somewhere between blue and white. The icy shiver that went down my spine became a pure trembling of terror when from his throat rose up a kind of animal growl.

  “Bu . . . but wha . . . what ar-are you d-doing?” I yelped, trying to take a step backward.

  Fatal error! He came a step closer, and his eyes became even more luminous, as if the thought of my escape galvanized him. I was reminded of those animal documentaries that say that the instinct of predators is to pursue prey when it runs. I tried to stand still, but when another growl sounded and his lips curled, revealing his all-too-bright and sharp fangs, my legs decided to run, no matter the direction.

  I let out a cry when I felt something strike me and throw me to the ground. When Velvet Voice turned me around and straddled me, I couldn’t do anything except scream and struggle. I tried to claw at him, but he was pressing my arms to the floor with such force that I thought he had crushed them.

  “Let me go! Let me go, you . . .”

  I had begun to utter the first syllable of the worst profanity that I could think of when I suddenly stopped myself, at the feeling of contact between two canines and the hollow of my neck.

  “Aaaahhh!” I screamed, expecting to feel, in the space of a breath, those fangs sinking into my carotid artery.

  I stopped shouting when his mouth let go of its hold and moved toward my ear. If I had ever dreamed of a man lying on top of me and murmuring things in my ear, it was surely never this.

  “This is what you risk happening if you do not have the least knowledge of self-defense. And this is what you really risk happening if you continue to be disrespectful toward me. I know I stole your life from you and that I am asking you to put that life in jeopardy by working for me. I am well aware of that. But do not forget that I also saved you back in that damn alley, and it would be better to be in this moment with me than with the big blond who found you so mouthwatering, in every sense of the word . . .”

  His voice was velvety but also as sharp as a razor. I couldn’t stop trembling, tears streaming of their own accord down my cheeks, and I tried hard to suppress the enormous sobs of terror that threatened to escape if I opened my mouth.

  “Have I made myself clear?” he said, still at my ear.

  I yielded, quickly nodding my head. He got up and held out his hand for me.

  “Now get up.”

  I took the hand he offered and let him help me to my feet. I was still trying to hold back sobs, and the result was that I was sniffling loudly and shaking all over. He handed me a handkerchief (of course he had a handkerchief . . . just like any gentleman), and I wiped my face before blowing my nose.

  “I’m so-sorry for be-being rude. After all, you did save my life, and God knows what the blond vampire and his pack will do if they find me in Kentwood.”

  I had figured out at least th
at we weren’t in Kentwood, because there were certainly no manors there. I inhaled deeply, and then said, “I accept your conditions.”

  What other choice did I have?

  I was treated to another X-ray observation (luckily his eyes had returned to their normal color, though that was hardly reassuring). I didn’t shrink away from his stare, though. I wanted to get my dignity back.

  “First of all, you will call me by my name, Phoenix. I shall give you a cell phone that you will have on you at all times so I can reach you when I need to. At night, you will come with me. During the day, you will write reports for my employers.”

  I wondered when I would get to sleep in the midst of that schedule.

  “But we shall get to the reports when the time is right. For now, you are going to change into something suitable for combat training.”

  “What, now?”

  “Your training is going to take me some time, and it will slow down my work, so it is best to start as quickly as possible. There is a door on the ground floor near the staircase, on the right. It leads to the basement. I expect you there in fifteen minutes.”

  With that, he left me alone. Bursting into tears seemed like an appropriate response, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I shook myself. After all, I had asked for it. I didn’t know what my problem was. This was the first time that I was reacting this way. Normally, I let everyone walk all over me without saying a word, but for some reason, I had verbally assaulted, several times over now, a person who was capable of dismembering me in an instant if he was ever inclined. Besides, he had certainly thought about it. I was convinced that I would have nightmares about it as soon as I fell asleep.

  It had taken me five minutes to regain my composure. Better to not lose any more time, so I went to change my clothes.

  Once I got back to my room, I quickly changed into the gym clothes he had left on the table, and I took the opportunity to splash my face with water to erase the last traces of tears. I glanced in the mirror: I looked like death warmed up, and my fight with Phoenix (I was going to have to call him by his name) had gotten the better of my ponytail. I fixed it before heading for the staircase.

 

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