Dire Warning

Eve had not anticipated just how terrified the werewolf was of losing his job. She'd set the trap with no remorse, assuming he'd just find a job with his kind the very next day. But the pup seemed entirely fixed on following her around now, more like a loyal dog than the wolf he was supposed to be. He sat in her office while she wrapped up her work for the day, and when she announced that she was going home to sleep, he looked terrified that something might happen to her while she was away.

"But it is my duty to protect you at all times!" he insisted, when she tried to send him home. "What if something happens to you while I'm away?"

Eve wanted to point out that it was more likely for something to happen to her while he was there. For thousands of years, she had not needed a bodyguard. She had always known how to look after herself, how to protect herself. She did not need him, all she needed was an excuse to fire him. But, even though they both knew that, she could not admit to it openly. The whole point was to not get sued for firing him, after all.

His tail started wagging again when she finally allowed him to follow her upstairs to her penthouse. She wondered, irritated, if he only had two expressions, that downcast look of the ears, and the happy tail-wagging. Of course he didn't, she told herself, he was just a werewolf.

She retreated to her coffin, with Rex sleeping on a sofa in the next room. But, even though the heavy lid of the coffin muffled the sound of his snoring, she could not sleep all day. Tossing and turning would not have been dignified enough for a vampire, and so she lay motionless, her eyes closed, pretending to slumber, wishing she could really sleep. How could a mere werewolf irritate her so? It made her angry just to think about it, and the anger kept her awake more than the sound of his snoring. How dare he sleep so peacefully? How dare he sleep in her own home? And, moreover, why did she have to face such an annoying problem now, when she had just received a much more important death threat? She did not have time for this. She knew she should have rested, she should have restored her strength in preparation of the night ahead, and yet these thoughts kept her up until sunset.

***

As soon as the clock struck six in the evening, Eve got out of her coffin. There was no point in trying to sleep any longer.

The maid had not forgotten to refill the icebox this time. Eve found her bottle of caffeinated synthetic blood and drank slowly, thinking about the unfortunate events from the night before. She had forgotten to fire the maid, and now it seemed too late.

The wolf waited politely in the living room while she showered and put on her clothes. He had shifted back into full human form, and seemed less frightened than the night before. He seemed even to have managed to find a change of clothes that suited his new role as a bodyguard. Eve suspected the maid liked him as much as the mailroom girls, and was conspiring with them to make her keep him.

"I'm heading out," she said, walking past him towards the elevator. "Make sure you don't break anything while I'm gone."

As expected, he followed her into the elevator, bumping into the control panel and pressing three buttons at once with his elbow. Eve did not deign to roll her eyes. Such expressions of one's feelings were for the weak. But she sighed inwardly at the thought that he was going to be following her to Lady Cassandra's, of all people.

***

Lady Cassandra liked to keep things simple. No guns, no swords, no golden lassos allowed. No wooden stakes either. Her burly guards, half-ogre, by the looks of them, half-troll, did not allow anyone in without an appointment. They did not fail to stop Rex as he tried to follow her inside.

"My bodyguard," Eve said, by way of explanation.

"No," the guards answered.

"No," Eve said over her shoulder with a shrug. She very much did not care to be followed. And when Rex tried to protest, she ordered him coldly: "Sit. Stay."

She had not expected the wolf to obey. But, to her surprise, he instantly dropped to the ground, where he sat kneeling. Clearly not an alpha.

She tried to push the werewolf out of her mind as she passed through the candlelit corridors in Lady Cassandra's mansion. The medium liked her darkness and her shadows for effect, and the more impressionable certainly fell for the decor. But Eve suspected there was a network of spies, very much live ones, behind the slew of secret information that Lady Cassandra generally threw at her customers.

"I have been expecting you, Eve, queen of vampires" Lady Cassandra said in a deep, mysterious voice when Eve entered the dark parlor where the seances usually took place.

"I hope I'm not late for my 7 o'clock appointment," Eve answered. "And I believe the word you are looking for is CEO. We don't have queens in this day and age."

"Ah, the good old days are dead," Lady Cassandra sighed. "And the dead speak. You have heart problems, I see. Love. A common affliction, but not among vampires."

"Heart problems indeed," Eve answered. "I nearly got a stake through the heart the other night, and I'd very much like to know who sent it."

"Ah, but you cannot lie to Lady Cassandra!" the medium said. "It is love I see in your heart. Wooden stake, pish posh! You are in love!"

"Please, Lady Cassandra, do not tell me next that there is a tall dark stranger waiting for me."

"No, not tall, not very dark..." Lady Cassandra raised her hands to her temples theatrically. "He is rather short, and chestnut-brown."

"Your security cameras are indeed top quality," Eve said coldly. "That would be my bodyguard waiting for me at the door."

"The boy whom you have not suffered to fire last night. Oh, Eve, how dreadful! A little werewolf. They live so little. You will suffer so much."

Eve shrugged.

"I will suffer more if I do not find out who sent me the wooden stake," she said.

"Don't say I didn't warn you about the boy," Lady Cassandra said in a motherly voice. "But that is the curse of a medium, to see and to not be believed."

She took a pause for effect, then closed her eyes and turned her face to the ceiling.

"I shall ask the great spirits about your mysterious parcel now," she said. "You may wish to sit down if you are faint of heart."

Eve declined. She steeled herself for the theatrics that would ensue, but Lady Cassandra seemed willing to drop the act.

"Fine," the medium said, sitting down at the table with a large crystal ball on it that served for a lamp. "My sources tell me that it's the humans. They don't like you, and they don't like your little corporation."

Eve thought it wise not to argue about size.

"They see Blood Lust as a very vampire thing. It is run by vampires and caters to vampires."

"We make synthetic blood, yes. In various flavors, but it is something only a vampire would drink."

"Some see it as a symbol of vampirism itself. Massive wealth produced by vampires, for vampires, from vampires. A closed circuit."

"We have our diversity hires, just like everyone else," Eve defended herself.

"That is not enough for some people. Unscrupulous people. Mark my words: your brand is a vampire brand. And humans want humanized brands."

"So you're saying we should start selling organic orange juice as well?"

"Freshly squeezed, yes, if you survive long enough. But it might be too late for that already. My sources tell me there is a group of humans who are very much prepared to kill. And by prepared, I mean they have found a weapon."

"Pitchforks?" Eve ventured. "We've dealt with that before. Posters, pitchforks, a few broken windows during daytime..."

"No," Lady Cassandra said darkly. "It's not the usual unruly mob. This time they have a scientist, and he has found something much darker."

"Holy water?"

"A sun bomb."