Chapter 3

Hudson

I'm sitting behind my desk, thinking about her, when there's a knock on my office door. It's nothing new—the thinking about her part. The her being, Rosie Breit, my virtual assistant. She is the human equivalent of an ear worm of your very favorite song.

What is new is the knock—the intrusion of someone interrupting my work. I don't get many visitors.

Even in Screaming Woods—a town full of monsters—most people know better than to intrude on a vampire. Yes, even here I'm a rarity.

A vampire in a town full of monsters. And my very human, very beautiful, very young, very vulnerable assistant keeps offering to come visit me in person.

Offering. Threatening.

Potato. Potatah.

I've started having nightmares about her showing up here.

"Come in," I say.

In walks my friend, Atticus.

I should probably back up a bit to better explain the town where I live and the people who inhabit it. Case in point, I am a vampire. Yep, we're real; we've just gotten better at hiding ourselves. And the advancement of using different colored lenses on glasses has even allowed us to go outside in the sun.

For the record, I'm the least cool vampire that ever lived. First of all, I got turned when I was in my early thirties, in 1987. That's right, I look like an extra from the vampire classic, The Lost Boys. I've been able to update my wardrobe, but unfortunately, I'm stuck with the curly, mullet-like hair. I even have the diamond stud in my left ear.

You could argue that even with those dated elements, I'd still be the consummate sexy vampire. But I haven't mentioned the fact that I'm a freaking giant. I'm talking six foot, five inches tall with a thick body to match. Whoever heard of a chubby vampire? But I digress…

The interesting thing about the town, Screaming Woods—as its known to its residents now instead of the charming Stream in the Woods--is that a couple of decades ago there was a freak accident involving a mad scientist, Halloween and an energy drink gone very wrong. It turned the residents into monsters.

Atticus is one of those monsters. He's a zombie. Not like the ones in the movies. He's not mindlessly wandering the streets looking for brains. In fact, he's one of the most brilliant people I've ever met.

So yeah, we're just two undead dudes hanging out. Well as much as you could call either of us ‘dudes'. I'm not sure we're collectively cool enough for that moniker.

"I got it finished," he says, carrying his laptop towards me. "I just need to upload the software to your system and you'll be all set."

"Are you sure it works?"

He glances up at a me with his nearly fluorescent green eyes. "Yes. We tried it with Harry's brother. And Jace even recorded a lecture with his face. Though he's unsure if he's going to use it. He's gotten used to recording with just his hands."

Jace is a satyr in town who also happens to be a music theory professor. Harry, or Harriet, is his wife.

A month or so ago, not long after I first hired her, I asked Atticus to create software that would enable me to video chat with my assistant without her realizing that I'm a damn vampire.

Unlike in the movies, my fangs don't retract. They're always there. They get more pronounced and tingly when I'm aroused. Aroused by food or sex.

Video chatting is not a requirement for a virtual assistant. With everyone else, I can communicate just fine via email or an online chat program. That worked with Rosie as well for the first few months of her employment.

But damn Rosie and her insatiable work ethic. She is determined to talk in person or over Zoom so that I can get my money's worth.

Have I mentioned how terrified I am of her just showing up here?

To make matters worse, I made the mistake of googling her.

My curiosity got the better of me and I saw a picture. Now, I can't get her out of my mind. All that pale, creamy skin, all those full curves, and all that blonde hair. Rosie is stunning.

But a mere picture isn't enough for me. I can't meet her in person. She likely isn't one of the enlightened humans that is aware monsters walk among them. I can't risk her quitting once she finds out what I am. And I don't dare risk meeting her in person if she did. I don't trust myself around her.

Still, I want more from her than just her words. I crave watching her move. See how her lips shape words—primarily my name—and how expressive her big brown eyes are. I'm desperate for any scrap of interaction with her, even if it must be through cameras and filters. And even if it makes me nervous as fuck.

"This girl, she is special?" Atticus asks.

Atticus's tone implies he knows exactly how desperate I am. Which means my infatuation must be pretty obvious if even he sees it for what it is.

Still, I make a show of protesting. "Uh, no, she's just my assistant. I figure some things will be easier to handle over a video chat."

He cocks an eyebrow at me. "You know, many of us believe humans to be the best mates for the rest of us."

"I'm not looking for a mate. And even if I were, Rosie is my assistant. It would be inappropriate to cross the line with her."

"That all depends on whether or not she's interested in crossing said line," Atticus says.

I stare at my friend, and he holds his hands up in defeat.

"Let's just get you set up."

He takes my laptop and pulls it over next to his. Then, he's quiet for the next fifteen minutes or so while he clicks around on both computers.

"That should do it," he says, turning my screen to face me. "We can do a trial run and you can call up Vivian at home. She's expecting your call."

Vivian is Atticus's human wife.

I click the button to make the video call and it rings twice, then connects. Her pretty features fill my screen.

"Hey Hudson," she says. Then she leans closer to the screen. "Whoa, babe, this program is amazing. Smile for me, Hudson, let me see those fangs."

I curl my lip up. I'm not really much of a smiler.

She gasps. "That's unreal. Here, let me send you a screenshot so you can see what I'm looking at."

"Yes, that's right," Atticus says. "From your perspective, you just look like yourself. The filter only works on the projection of your image. See, look." He turns his phone around to show me the text with the screenshot Vivian just sent.

The image of me is definitely different than how I actually look. Yes, that's another Hollywood myth—the one about us vampires not being able to see our reflection—we definitely can. Now, though, my fangs are gone, and in their place are just normal human teeth. And the eerie glow of my eyes is altered to a regular shade of blue.

I look like a man. Just a regular man—still stuck in the 80's with my damn hair, but I don't think a filter can fix that.

"This will work with any program she uses?" I ask.

"Yes, it's designed to affect your look from the viewer's standpoint regardless of the platform or application," Atticus says.

"This is amazing. You know you could make a ton of money if you sold it?"

He nods. "I realize, but this isn't the kind of thing we'd want to get into the wrong hands. The internet is already filled with creeps that catfish kids; I don't want to contribute to that."

"Excellent point. Thanks, man, really."

"Of course. It was a fun project. So if you have any other ideas, let me know." He grabs his laptop and stands to leave. "You know, it's okay to want more. I know what it's like to think that things like love and a family are forever out of reach, but all it takes is that one person who's your perfect match."

I blow out a breath. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

I think he's full of shit, but I don't tell him that. It's one thing for a guy like Atticus. Yes, he's a zombie, but he's not a blood-sucking monster. He isn't a danger to others.

Two hours later, I've finally gotten up enough courage to call Rosie for our first official video chat. I suppose if she screams and hangs up quickly, I'll know it's not working.

"Wait, hold on. I can't get my thingy to work." Her sweet voice spills out of my laptop speakers. Then she appears.

Well, a close up of her cleavage appears. Fuck me.

"Oh my God, how embarrassing." She plops down into a chair and now I can just see her from the very top of her cleavage up. "Sorry about that, I couldn't figure out how to get the camera to work."

"Is it not built-in?"

She winces. "No. I have a really old laptop, but I've almost saved enough to buy a new one with a built-in camera."

She's even more beautiful than she was in her pictures. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, hanging long behind her shoulders. Her black-rimmed glasses give her a sexy-librarian look.

"You're a lot hotter…er, older, nope, I mean younger than I was expecting." Her features squish up again. "I promise I'm not always this much of a disaster. I've just gotten used to working from home with just me and Figs."

"Figs?" Shit, I think I'm actually smiling because she's adorable. So full of life and sunshine.

"Oh, my cat. He's this huge black and white tuxedo cat, yep, that's my Figs." She clears her throat, then straightens her glasses. "Now then, it's nice to finally put a face with your voice."

"Likewise. I don't have anything specific for us to discuss today since we've already had our meeting at the top of the week. But I wanted to make sure the video chatting software was working on my end."

"Do you have an older computer too?" she asks, with a tilt of her head.

"Something like that."

She bites down on her pen and twirls it in her mouth. I feel nearly positive she has no idea that is sexy as hell.

"Will this be how we are meeting from now on?"

"More or less. I'll still e-mail and send voice memos when I don't have time to meet face-to-face, but I think this will make things run more smoothly."

"Yes. Excellent." Her big brown eyes roll upward.

I'm enjoying her awkwardness immensely. "Very well," I say, trying my damnedest not to smile. "Have a good day, Ms. Breit."

"You too, Mr. Hudson. Uh, Mr. Wells. I promise I won't be this much of a disaster next time we chat."

"No promise necessary, you're perfect just the way you are."