"The Life and Death of a Legal Secretary" (standard:horror, 3596 words)
Author: Jackie Hardy	Added: Jan 18 2001	Views/Reads: 4027/2866	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is based on the current popular fiction from White Wolfe called Vampire:The Masquerade. Please give me some feed back. This is about a sexy, savy, lady on the verge of a new life. Thanks! Jackie

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Also, I am loyal to my employer and that, is why I want you to tell me
when I can start.  Mark my words,  I will make you money, and keep your 
clients so happy they send you everything they ever wanted done right 
here, in your lap.” 

There is when I sat against the radiator, adjusted my skirt and waited
for his response. 

“Well, I have never had it put it quite like that before.  You realize I
didn’t get to this position in this firm, by just having some college 
flunky give me the tough girl speech.” he told lighting a cigar and 
waiting if I would play my trump card. 

And play it I did. 

“Well, Mr. Grant, I will say this much, for the purposes of this
negotiation, I know several things about you already. “I said as I 
crossed my legs.  The fabric of my bright blue suit and yellow shell 
moved with me.  I smiled knowing that I looked good.  I hadn’t worked 
out for nearly a year waiting for such an opportunity like this for 
nothing.  They say looks aren’t everything.  Those that said that, 
weren’t me. 

“First, you don’t have any pictures of family, which means you either
have none or are exceedingly private.  I vote neither.  Outside of the 
fact that you’re a snappy dresser, nothing in this office gives anyone 
the slightest inkling what or who you are.” 

His eyebrow rose in an inquisitive nature. “Go on Ms Valentine, please
continue.” 

“I have two things to say, Mr. Grant both you will like to hear.  One I
am fiercely loyal when I decide which side of the fence I’m on, I stay 
there; and two, I am telepathic, and frankly sir, you are one piece of 
work.” 

“How so,” he asked, not moving so much as an instant in his chair but I
knew he was anxious and excited to hear my response.  I liked this game 
of cat and mouse, and he clearly did also. 

“Well, in the forty minutes that I waited for your interview,” I said
getting up.  I walked over to the window again, opened the buttons on 
my jacket, indicating I was a bit more relaxed, and looked at the 
setting sun. “The majority of your clients were not human.  Ah, they 
looked harmless enough, but underneath those suits and briefcases they 
were beasts all the same.  And it appeared they did not like you very 
much.” 

He clapped his hands in obvious satisfaction. 

“You’re hired.” was all he said. 

From that day on, I was his right arm.  Ian Grant became partner at
Barber, Lichtenstein, Parlow & Johannson faster than I expected him to. 
 Not that he wasn’t way up there in the corporate structure to begin 
with. 

I moved into an apartment down by the Warehouse District soon after I
started.  The money was good, and the power felt even better.  I had so 
much fun being with him. He was a good boss and I made him money and 
gave him the kind of counsel that most of those legal eagles downtown 
would have killed for.  I read the opposition’s minds. And let my boss 
know what was the straight skinny. 

After a while, we became friends and that is where my story takes an
interesting turn. 

One night, when after working late I had gotten tired, he said to me,
“Summer, I’ve grown very fond of you in the past months... It is almost 
exactly a year since we started this relationship of ours.” 

He continued, “In that time, you have never mentioned your family, or
asked about mine, nor mentioned anything of the subject matter we 
discussed at our first meeting. Why is that you think?” 

He poured me a glass of wine and sat back down at his desk.  I sat on
the large sofa he had in his office going over the latest figures he 
got from some of the Bosses down at the docks. 

“I have no family anymore.  They all are dead.  That’s why.  I don’t
like to go dredging up a lot of painful memories, and for you, I 
already know your past.  It is very prestigious.  Twenty years with 
this firm, twelve secretaries, no known affairs... Yet everyone is 
always calling you up and making appointments to see you after I go 
home.  Your life is private, but I know that there is something 
different about you.  Different like the men who own the docks, like 
the women who sometimes come up to see you and close the door. 

I don’t talk about it because it is a private kind of matter.  If it
were my business you would tell me.  But I have a feeling that you 
aren’t allowed to discuss certain aspects of your life.  Which I can 
understand.” 

He sighed, weary.  I hadn’t notice how old he began to look lately.  How
his face showed he was tired of all this.  His graying hair never 
grayed any further and his eyes sometimes had a light in them that 
frightened me. 

“I’ve come to depend on you my dear, and that is something I never
thought myself doing.”  He sighed and went over to the cabinet and got 
a bottle.  “You are so important to me that some might use you to get 
to me, and with the knowledge you possess,” he said pouring some very 
dark wine from an old bottle. “Can be damming indeed.  And dangerous.” 

He poured a generous amount of the liquid that was way too thick to be
wine into his glass and drank it down.  A serene look crossed his face, 
like the kind you have when just the right Chardonay crosses the 
palate. 

“Hit the spot huh?” I said wondering where this conversation was leading
us.  I unrestrained my hair and tried to relax. But for the first time, 
I felt his powerful hunger, like those of the dock Bosses he so 
frequently had to deal with. 

And for the first time I was scared to silence. 

Not in the many opportunities for intimacy did I feel this uneasy.  I
looked at him with a renewed sense of fear and anxiousness I had rarely 
ever shown.  Whenever his clients would come, I put on that tough as 
nails exterior not wanting to show my vulnerable feminine side, not 
even to Ian.  But I had no choice.  There was a flush coming on my pale 
cheeks.  It made me feel like that little pale freckled face Irish kid 
from the suburbs waiting for the local schoolboy to notice me. 

Ian had always kept certain boundaries up, even when the workday went
way past 12 hours.  Now he seemed almost human.  Funny that word human 
how it sounds so archaic now. 

“Summer,” he said, calling me by my familiar name, instead of the Ms.
Valentine I used in the Corporate world, but now I was Summer.... 

How odd it sounded to have heard him call me that in the deep darkness
of the night.  I put down my ledger and asked him what was wrong. 

“I am weary of this life.” he admitted.  He loosened his tie and sat on
the bar stool nearest to me. 

“You are so young and that is why it is so difficult to look at you.” he
imparted feeling some angst that I couldn’t place. 

“Ian,” I said not really knowing what to say. “I know what troubles you.
The Bosses at the docks are planning to kill you aren’t they?” 

The previous weeks had been very heated and the atmosphere was extremely
tense.   Many important people were coming to see Ian and I had the 
feeling that something was wrong. 

“You know that the people that come here are different from you, don’t
you?” he asked loosening his tie and taking another glass of the 
mysterious liquid in the old bottle.  Each draft he took made him sigh 
with a contentment I envied. 

“Yes Ian I do.  I realized it on the first day, and have seen much since
we started to work together.  They aren’t like we are.  They’re like 
you.  It’s like you’re a mob boss if you will.  All those bankers, 
lawyers, accountants, stock brokers that always just happen to come by 
with some tidbit of information, or business, they....” I didn’t finish 
because he began to speak. 

“Summer, I have never lied to you. Nor have I treated you with less than
the respect you deserve.  But I must tell you that you must leave me.  
Your life is in danger and I need to make sure that you do not come to 
any harm.” 

I knew I wasn’t being fired.  I was being sent away from harm’s way. 
But the stubborn Irish woman I was then couldn’t abandon him like that. 


I went over to the bar and took the bottle of wine he’d been drinking
and smelt of it.  He grabbed it and poured himself another. 

“Be careful little one.” was all he said.  I turned and he said, “You
would have a better chance at life than if you stay.  Those bastards 
will kill me for taking their business away.” 

Then for the first time, I saw through the veil of his thoughts and saw
the word BRUJA.  I couldn’t figure out what it meant.  Maybe it was the 
wine or the fact that he hadn’t been able to rest. 

“Ian, who are the Bruja?  I know that name. I heard it used before when
those Bosses from the docks were in meetings with you.” 

“Don’t ask me.  We are different from you and that is enough.  The more
you know the worse your life will become.” he said looking away from 
me. 

“I know that what is in that bottle doesn’t come from a winery. Ian I
know what you are.” and then I went and kissed his ring in the symbolic 
manner I had seen so many do. 

He looked down at me and then ran his hand through my thick long auburn
hair.  His green eyes glinted with a light I had only dreamed about.  
“Yes little one, I think you do.” 

That was the night I learned about the Kindred and the Masquerade.  That
was the night I was supposed to die. 

He explained the whole tale of the Children of Caine and how the
Masquerade ruled everything.  He was primogen of the Ventrue Clan in 
New Orleans, and that the Bruja were in control of the docks and wanted 
his final death.  He said he was going to take care of me. He would 
make sure that I would never have anyone harm me.  I would never die. 

I kept thinking to myself, ‘I’m a 90's woman, I could handle it’.  But
Kindred law stated that I either had to be embraced or die because I 
had knowledge that could endanger the Masquerade. 

I had to choose.  Die and be Embraced, or just die.  The choice was
mine.  Ian broke the Masquerade because he would rather of seen me dead 
than massacred by those vicious bastards. He would have rather taken my 
life himself, rather than see it violated by his enemies. 

That’s what I called love, kill me to save me. What a concept.  And ten
years ago when I thought of becoming a lawyer, I never expected this. I 
kept my nose to the grind stone in the hopes of landing a great job and 
look where it got me.  In the middle of the biggest war no one ever 
heard of. 

Ian looked old in the dim light.  Time for the truths I had been
speculating about for nearly a year. Part of me didn’t want to know, 
the other couldn’t wait. 

We spent the rest of the evening talking about family and how the Clans
were supposed to observe the peace.  That jeopardizing the Masquerade 
was the one Kindred law they couldn’t break.  I felt like he’d already 
resigned himself to dying and that my death was just a tidy little 
string he needed to snip. 

But the biggest part of me, the one that came to care deeply for this
mysterious man who never seemed to take lunch, stayed away from his 
lovely view of the city and always had people coming to him for advice, 
the one that couldn’t stand to see him die wanted to think his story 
was just that. But I was a realist and truth was certainly stranger 
than fiction.  And I had definitely seen too much to let me just go. 

It was shortly after 11 p.m. when he asked me to make the choice, to
become Embraced or die. 

“I won’t see you murdered by those Bruja scum.  I won’t let them touch
you.”  He looked defeated at that moment, as if he dreaded doing 
either. 

Being a 90's woman, I saw all the vampire films and the shows on the TV
showing the whole seduction thing.  None of it seemed as real as the 
two of us sitting in the dim light of his corner office discussing my 
death, and life as a member of the Kindred. 

All of a sudden out of my mouth came the most peculiar thing. “I’m
afraid.  Those men will kill you and I can’t allow that.  Why don’t you 
just leave the city, find that Prince you speak of and ask his help?  
Doesn’t your clan rule the city?” 

“We do, but the Bruja mobs are picking us off like flies.  I cannot save
everyone.  I am the Primogen and I can only look to save my own clan.  
The Prince will not go against the Bruja but remain like the Nosferatu, 
neutral to keep the peace.  Now little one, you must make your choice.  
They are going to come soon and I won’t let them have you.” 

I sat there suddenly terrified at either choice. 

“I choose to not die, to live as you do, and to protect you.” I found
myself muttering. 

Before I realized what was happening, he was at my throat.  God the pain
was indescribable and the pleasure was unequaled.  As the blood flowed 
from my throat into him, I realized that all my life was a pale 
representation compared to the life I would lead after he was finished. 


He whispered in my ear things I can only remember in dreams, as he bit
the fleshy part of his wrist. My mouth was so dry and I couldn’t see to 
find it, but my mouth did begin to suck on the wound tasting the 
metallic saltiness of his blood.  It was so intimate a feeling that I 
couldn’t help but feel exhilarated. 

As I lay there in a near fetal position I felt my body go through the
oddest sensations.  But that all ended when the door to his office blew 
open..  He still lay nearly on top of me, blood still on his lips as 
the Bruja ran into the office. 

“She’s dead.  I’d rather have her dead than at your disposal.” he
shouted.  I closed my eyes and covered my mouth, fearful that they 
might see the blood all over my face.  If they knew I had been Embraced 
my final death would come shortly after his.    His last gaze was at me 
as the phosphorus bullets hit him.  I can feel the burning still if I 
tried hard enough. 

Like I was saying, I pretended to be dead and when the Bruja left us
there I could still feel his teeth on my throat and cried with a sense 
of loss.  He lay in his own blood, lifting his wrist to my mouth and 
choking the words, “Drink, you need the blood to survive...” 

And then he was gone. 

I walked over to his desk and saw a stack of papers and a key.  They
were addressed to me. 

I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn’t forget the look of horror
on my face.  My mouth and cheeks were still covered in his blood and my 
clothes were destroyed.  I ran my fingers through my matted hair and 
went into the other room to change clothes.  There couldn’t be a trace 
of me when they found him.  I had to disappear and fast before the 
Bruja thugs came back to burn the body. 

There was enough cash to keep me out of danger until I could get to a
place of sanctuary, but the next evening I learned the Bruja not only 
killed my sire but the Prince as well. 

I left without even going home to pack. And have been on the run ever
since. 

So if there is a position, high up in corporate law firm in a large city
with an eccentric old gentleman open beware, you may bite off a bit 
more than you can chew. 

That’s my story sad but true.  I sit here on the verandah of a high rise
somewhere between here and there, trying to come to terms with who I 
have become, and what revenge I will take.  Someone once told me before 
going in to see Ian, to take care, live long and leave a good looking 
corpse.  I know what they mean, but can’t see the humor. 

Go figure, Corporate Law can be deadly. 


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