Under a blood red sky

At the first touch of sunset, Phaedra was awake.

The wards were in place, now, she knew. There was some comfort in that thought. At least no surprise visitors could come by, like last night.

She got dressed (up to and including the daggers on her hips), all of her clothing again black and form-fitting, laced her boots, and made sure the door was shut and locked as she headed out. Phaedra didn't know where Harry was, but she had some rounds to make on her own. Local vampires never talked when a human was there. She was doing the job she was hired to do.

The second she stepped outside, she knew someone was there. She thought about going back inside and getting a gun, but really there were few things that a gun would take down that she and her knives could not. There was a noise, a throat-clearing sound, and she looked up to see a man standing there, leaning on the hood of a classic black car. He waved at her.

What the...?

( Read more )

The house was ranch-style, with two distinct sides, separated by a shared kitchen and patio. Harry had set aside the smaller wing for Phaedra, since it had fewer windows and a private bath in the master bedroom. In the bedroom, steel shutters had been placed over all the windows, behind heavy curtains. The door was in a solid oak frame, and additional interior locks had been placed.

On his own half, Harry had converted the second bedroom into a makeshift lab. It had more room than his previous lab had allowed, but all the walls were lined with shelves and long worktables. A corner of the carpet had been lifted away, with a summoning circle placed underneath, an elegant thing of silver, copper, and iron.

It was an older home, and one that had been well loved. Harry was the first to rent it out after the original family had left. The threshold still held, though he knew it would weaken over time. The next few days would be spent enforcing wards around the house. He felt oddly naked without them.

"Your room is on that end," Harry told Phaedra, pointing past the kitchen. It was well after dark, and with the thick, solid curtains he'd placed on that side of the house, no trails of moonlight or starlight could penetrate to illuminate her way. "Um. Need a candle or something?"

He'd already forgotten that the electricity was still in place, since Harry had lived without it for so long.

I said you're such a sweet young thing, why you do this to yourself?
She looked at me and this is what she said

Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Money don't grow on trees
I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed
There ain't nothin' in this world for free

I know I can't slow down, I can't hold back
Though you know I wish I could
Oh no, there ain't no rest for the wicked
Until we close our eyes for good



They didn't talk around water coolers.

They sat behind closed doors, subtle nods to each other upon arrival in the evenings. There were meetings in a board room with a long mahogany table, all of them sitting sentinel at various points around it.

There was only ever one heartbeat in the office, and it belonged to Joe--the boss's son, who now ran the firm. He was universally hated by his staff, which was more of an occupational hazard than it would be in any other situation, in any other job.

Except perhaps that of a lion tamer.

The stencil on the office suite read BENNING AND SON. To everyone who knew, everyone who should know, this group was only called The Firm. The cards its staff carried were blank and only had a phone number in red ink.

Joe Benning ran a firm of assassins, and every one of them was a vampire.

It'd been his father's idea, years and years ago. They were the perfect killers. They HAD to kill; why not pay them?

Phaedra Romani was one of the first hires, and now she had her own office. In terms of office hierarchy, and in terms of reputation, she was the go-to girl for all things wet work. She did not suffer fools, enjoyed taking contracts that gave people their just desserts, and was unassuming in appearance enough that it was easy for her to do her job. Very, very easy.

When Joe entered her office without knocking to inform her that there was a client waiting to speak to her, the glare he received damn near stopped his heart. She'd been in not even half an hour and had a line up of research to do. There were other vampires here who would take a new client.

Phaedra did not move, just arched a brow at her boss. "I find it difficult to believe," she said, voice very smooth, "that there is no one else here who can see this client."

Joe's face grew angry and full of lines. "You give me a lotta lip just for trying to run this place."

That's because your father was better at it.

Joe sighed. "He asked for you by name, specifically."

Leather creaked as Phaedra pushed her chair back, slightly more interested now. Many of her clients were women. Women who were wronged, cheated on, raped, or otherwise hurt by men. She had other clients, yes. But that seemed to be how the chips fell. Phaedra was the only female vampire in the firm. Most of the women came to her.

"Send him in."

( Enter Harry. )