Life Anew

Caleb and Katrina continued to spend much of their free time together, though mostly during the evenings. They attended an independent film debut downtown and went to one of the local Civil War museums. But they were just as happy sitting together watching television or talking into the night about a variety of topics, including history, travel, and their likes and dislikes. Much to Caleb's surprise, Katrina seemed quite comfortable spending time at his apartment during evenings that they weren't out on the town together.

The two also shared satisfying intimate time together, and Caleb discovered how passionate Katrina could be. Following those occasions, he usually fell asleep with her nestled alongside his body, though always waking alone the next morning. She was quite stealthy, and he was never sure at exactly what time she departed, but he often smiled upon finding his deadbolt locked with the key on the floor where she had slid it back underneath the door on her departure. She certainly takes safety seriously, he mused.

Caleb relished their time together and was pleased she seemed to feel the same. Spending time with her was addictive, and he frequently found his daytime thoughts straying to his new red-haired girlfriend. No, we're mates now, he corrected himself on more than one occasion. Still, the word was strange to him, hardly a contemporary term, and he often referred to Katrina as his girlfriend when referencing her in casual conversations with his coworkers.

Another week passed quickly, and the Thanksgiving holiday was soon upon them. As promised, Caleb ensured no "dead birds" were cooked at the apartment. Instead, he bought a precooked turkey and dressing, then prepared some of the side dishes himself, including baking a small pumpkin pie. It was his mother's recipe, which caused him some momentary sadness at the memory of her passing nearly two years ago. Holidays were when he missed her most; recalling the happiness that he and his mother enjoyed. The hours passed as he alternated between cooking and reminiscing.

Katrina arrived at his apartment promptly after sundown and happily watched him eat his meal as the last half of the Cowboys-Lions football game played on the TV. He finally convinced her to try some candied yams and a thin slice of the pumpkin pie he had baked, both of which she actually found quite tasty. She appreciated the flavors of both and was very impressed that he knew how to cook. She was also drawn to the scent of his body and the blood that flowed inside of him.

After dinner, they sat together on his couch to watch Casablanca on the classic film channel. She nestled against his chest as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. She took in his scent and momentarily felt her fangs begin to extend in anticipation. Just as she considered requesting a "small snack" from him, he asked her an unexpected question during a commercial.

"So, are male vampires stronger than female vampires?"

Katrina contemplated, "Hm, that's actually an interesting question that nobody's asked me before. I would say, no. There's some sort of leveling of the playing field that occurs when we transform.

"However," she added, "older vampires become more skillful with experience, just like humans do. So an accomplished vampire who spent their life concentrating on fighting would be naturally more accomplished than one who spent their life more sedately."

His eyes took on a spark of renewed interest. "How has my mate spent her time as a vampire?"

Her eyes narrowed at him before responding, "I've had a variety of experiences in my time as a vampire." She wasn't particularly interested in revisiting much of her history with him on that topic. Suffice to say she had a reputation of sorts, including a number of her life's experiences that were particularly violent and might alarm him.

"And how are your combat skills, Grasshopper?" he teased in a mock-oriental tone.

She grinned at him with a playful look. "Let's say, I wouldn't want to be the vampire who had to find out."

He smiled back with an impressed expression. "So, I'm dating a Jedi master vampire then?" he whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

"Sorry, no light saber," she replied ruefully.

"Too bad."

"But I have fangs," she said hopefully as she turned to face him and deliberately extended and bared her fangs.

His eyes widened noticeably as he suddenly found himself staring into her open mouth at the extremely sharp set of fangs extending down through her two canine teeth. It was a fierce visage for such a beautiful face. "Very sharp and pointy-looking," he observed politely with a tentative smile.

She closed her mouth, adopted a predatory expression, and began slowly leaning towards him. He grinned back at her and leaned slowly away. She launched herself on top of him and pressed him into the couch cushions with her body. Her soft lips pressed to his, and she drew the breath from him as she kissed him deeply. It was at such times that he felt the strength of her body, combined with the sensual nature of her form, and it never failed both to surprise and arouse him.

A short time later, he relented to her wish to partake in the "small snack" she had considered earlier, and though she drew only a minimal quantity of his blood, she relished every drop. She was surprised by how easy it was to accept him into her life and equally amazed by how quickly he seemed to adapt to her vampire nature. But as they sat together on his couch that evening, one thing was for certain: both were quite at ease with each other, and they were growing closer day by day.

It was her first Thanksgiving event in a long time and his second without his mother. But together, they both enjoyed the occasion thoroughly. He only wished she were able to come over earlier in the day. Maybe next year I could spend the entire day at her place, he mused.

The week following Thanksgiving, Caleb felt the upcoming end of the semester pulling at his energies and focus. It wasn't a time for distractions. However, on one early Wednesday morning, he knew from the moment he woke up that he was trying to come down with something. All the telltale signs were there: aches, pains, slightly elevated temperature, and runny nose, all the indicators of one of humanity's worst perpetuators of unhappiness, the common cold. To him, it felt like the plague. Worse yet, he had evening plans with Katrina to attend a new exhibit at a local art museum.

He'd been looking forward to the event for a few days. Of course, it seemed any excuse to be with her filled him with anticipation. But his plans came to an abrupt halt as he sneezed and reached for the Kleenex. His head was already in the throes of a throbbing headache. "Crap," he muttered miserably.

First, he called the college to leave word with his dean that he was ill. At least he sounded as convincing as he felt. It was his first sick call, so he anticipated no problems at work. He didn't want to give his illness to Katrina and needed to cancel their plans. Can vampires even get sick? he wondered for the first time since meeting her. Before making the call, he staggered into the bathroom to dig out the cold medicines. The only package he had was outdated by more than six months, but he thought the medicine should work well enough. Afterwards, he fell back into bed and felt around for the phone, hidden in the bedcovers following his earlier call.

"Katrina?" he asked as soon as the other end of the line picked up.

She listened for a moment and asked, "Caleb? It almost doesn't sound like you. Are you okay?"

He explained about the head cold, and she asked him a series of questions about his symptoms, making him promise to update her on his condition later in the day.

By that afternoon, his presumed head cold had progressed into something more dire. His fever felt worse, though he didn't bother to try to find his thermometer to take his temperature. The aches and pains in his body were stronger, and he felt miserable.

He failed to call Katrina as promised, having lost track of time as he lay in bed trying to rest. His mind fluctuated between dreams and consciousness. He had waking dreams filled with odd, bizarre scenarios and locations, some from his past and others from his present. At one point, he dreamed he was a switchboard operator at the college, and the phones kept ringing. Jolting in bed, he realized he was home and his phones were ringing incessantly.

Caleb finally managed to grab at the home phone tangled in his bed sheets and tried to speak through chattering teeth. He felt like he was freezing, and yet he could tell he was actually sweating.

"H-h-hell-llo?" he stammered.

"Caleb!" Katrina replied urgently. "Thank goodness you answered the phone. I almost called 911! You didn't call all afternoon, and I've been worried sick." She felt trapped and helpless all day while the sunshine held sway over her life. But the sun was nearly set, and she fully intended to go to Caleb's apartment to check on him in person.

"How are you?" she asked with concern. She determined that he sounded worse just by the sound of his raspy breathing and chattering teeth over the phone.

"S-so-sorry," he stuttered pitifully. "I-I l-lost t-track of t-time."

"Oh, Caleb," she cooed soothingly. "I'm coming for you. Try to hold on just a little bit longer, my love."

"N-no. D-don't n-need you s-sick too," he insisted weakly.

"I'm coming," she insisted, and the line went dead.

He barely recalled setting the phone down before he was wrapped in his sheet and comforter, shivering ceaselessly. He felt exhausted mentally and physically, and his mind wandered through a half-conscious state.

Katrina made it to Caleb's in record time, managing to avoid any traffic stops along the way as her Audi sped through the Atlanta city streets and highways. The gate guard at the apartment garage entrance recognized her immediately, and within minutes she was rapidly knocking on his apartment door.

"Caleb! Caleb, can you get to the door?" she called urgently through the locked door.

She reached an immediate decision to have a spare key made to his apartment at the earliest opportunity just as a safety precaution. She considered, of course, that she could easily force the door open in one swift motion. But that held the added difficulty of explaining the forced entry to the building maintenance people. Still, she was prepared for that if he failed to answer in the next few seconds.

She heard a shuffling sound on the other side of the door with her sensitive hearing, followed by the sound of Caleb's pitiful voice, "K-Katrina?"

She sighed with relief and gently coaxed, "It's me, my love. Just unlock the door, okay?"

She thought that she heard him utter the word "contagious" through chattering teeth.

"I can't get sick," she whispered loudly enough for her voice to carry, but not enough for any neighbors to hear. "Caleb Taylor, open this door immediately, or step away from it in two seconds!"

She heard the deadbolt click and didn't bother waiting as she began opening the door firmly, yet cautiously enough not to catch him with the opening sweep. She was unprepared for what she saw when she slipped inside.

He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt, and both were damp with sweat. His features were very pale, and his hair was a tangled mess. She immediately smelled the tell-tale scents of sickness, sweat, and staleness in the air.

Her hands reached out for him as he leaned back against the wall, and she carried him to the sofa where she placed him gingerly in a reclined position.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything," she said soothingly, though as much to calm her own anxiety as to comfort him. She felt his forehead, and it was burning to the touch. His fever was dangerously high, and she immediately knew what to do.

She ran a cold bath for him and glanced at the expired date on the box of medicine that he had apparently taken. "Oh, Caleb," she sighed with resignation while shaking her head. Typical male, she chided. She had seen the great influenza scourge of the nineteen hundreds and recognized how potentially lethal the 'flu could be. It was easy to see that his body was in the throes of something very dangerous.

She quickly found a gym bag and began stuffing clean undergarments, socks, T-shirts, and more sweatpants inside. She snatched a better-looking pair of his sneakers and some of his toiletries, as well as his hair comb and toothbrush.

After stripping him, she carried him to the bath and placed him in the water. He immediately began thrashing as the cool water penetrated and shocked his skin, but she firmly held him in place. He was gasping and trying to speak but his words were incoherent.

Eventually, she was able to get his body temperature down enough that he was out of immediate danger. He was unconscious, and she took care to ensure he didn't slip into the water.

She picked him up, laid him on top of his bed, and began drying his body with a towel. She slipped some fresh sweatpants and a T-shirt on him, grabbed his house keys and duffle bag, scooped him up in her arms, and proceeded to take him home with her.

Fortunately, she didn't run into any other occupants on her way down to the garage. That would have been a very difficult sight to explain.

She made an expedient stop by a local drug store on the way to her house to grab some flu-friendly foods, as well as some tissues and other items he would need. They proceeded to her estate, and she was relieved at how much more restful he had become since his fever dropped slightly.

The tall, red-haired vampire laid him on her bed in the subterranean room. She settled him beneath the satin sheets, having removed his clothes completely, and kissed him gently on the forehead. Though she was concerned for his welfare and healing, a maternal part of her was pleased that he was there for her to care for. He brought such a peaceful, important dimension to her life, which filled her with indescribable joy.

She quickly located and unpacked some key items from storage in a separate basement, things left over from one of her many past career experiences, in this case a nurse's aide. Carrying the items back to her room, she laid them out on the nightstand next to the bed where he lay resting.

She placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. He was still slightly feverish, which only confirmed her decision. She reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a small syringe. After neatly and effortlessly sticking a vein in her left arm, she extracted a small quantity of her blood. She released the blood into a small bottle of saline solution and shook the bottle to mix the contents, which turned to a reddish hue.

She drew a quantity of the liquid back into the syringe and inserted it into one of the veins in Caleb's left arm. Slowly, she emptied the full syringe into his system.

"This is better than any antibiotics, my love," she murmured softly. If he were impressed by what my saliva could do, he'll be amazed when he experiences my blood.

The following hours were a two-fold process. First, Caleb's own immune system was bolstered in its mission to fight off the virus by assistance from the antibodies in Katrina's blood cells. Once Caleb's body was mostly rid of the influenza, his own antibodies began attacking the limited quantity of Katrina's cells, which prevented the transformation process from continuing in his system.

Katrina recollected moments of her own transformation and the angst that still rose in her as she realized the choice hadn't been her own. Add to that, she was feeling selfish regarding Caleb. She liked his human blood, craved his human blood. It wasn't as if that were his primary appeal, for she loved him for who he was. But his blood was just pure ambrosia to her.

She lightly caressed his forehead, and he stirred ever so slightly. The next few hours involved the purging process for her blood cells, and he became more agitated and restless, nearly mimicking the symptoms of 'flu. Even under the best of circumstances, it's a difficult process, she mused. She moved to the other side of the grand-sized bed and lay down alongside him to watch him rest, allowing her thoughts to roam for what seemed like endless hours.

Sometime in the early hours of the following day, Caleb began to stir. His eyelids fluttered open, and his eyes tried to focus on his surroundings. He was immediately disoriented. A swift intake of breath was all he managed before Katrina was perched on the edge of the bed, gazing down into his eyes.

He was startled for a moment at her sudden appearance, appearing momentarily confused. "Katrina? Where am I?" he asked.

She smiled down at him. "You're home - at my home, that is."

His body was sore and still somewhat achy, but he felt a world of improvement over his last memory from the fevered, languished experience at his apartment. His pallor was much healthier looking, and he didn't have the same haggard appearance of the night before. He tried to sit up, but her soft hand fell upon his chest and pressed him gently back onto the bed.

"You need to rest," she cautioned him. "You're still not quite back to a healthy state."

He blushed slightly and said, "Um, I kind of need to -"

Her eyes widened, and she offered, "Oh, of course."

"Hey! I'm naked!" he exclaimed as he started to throw off the white satin sheet covering him.

She smiled slyly at him and muttered, "Just how I like you. And the bathroom is to your left."

He blushed furiously, so she turned her head while he pattered across the plush carpet into the nearby bathroom and quietly closed the door.

She went to his gym bag and removed a pair of his underwear, which she left hanging on the door knob to the bathroom. A moment later, the door opened slightly, and the underwear disappeared inside as the door shut again. Modest, she considered with amusement.

She moved like a whirlwind as she changed the bed linens to a clean set of dark blue satin sheets. She also replaced the white comforter with a dark blue one.

Minutes later, an only faintly blushing Caleb pattered back to the bed and stopped just short of where Katrina perched in nearly the same spot as before.

"Weren't those white just a minute ago?" he queried with a puzzled frown.

She smirked while holding the sheet aside as he slipped underneath it, and then she rolled the lightweight blue comforter over him. He obliged her with satisfaction, fully appreciative of her efforts to care for him.

"You look much better," she observed with a gentle smile. "You scared me last night."

He smirked back up at her, appreciating her simple beauty as she gazed down upon him. "Thank you. I'm grateful you were there for me when I needed you most."

"You bring out my maternal instincts, it seems," she replied with a warm smile.

The mention of that word wasn't lost on him, and one eyebrow rose curiously. "I thought you said vampires were barren?"

"Vampires are, but I had two children before I became a vampire," she answered simply. It was a somewhat painful memory for her and one she hadn't mentioned to most of her previous partners.

"And perhaps a husband?" he pressed.

She nodded. "It was a long time ago and a topic I'm not quite ready to discuss, if that's okay with you."

He easily detected her reluctance and merely nodded. "I'll be here when you're ready," he offered as he reached out to grasp her right hand in his.

The edges of her mouth upturned slightly. "Thank you."

Something she had said a few moments prior revisited his thoughts, and he frowned slightly. "Wait, my fever broke overnight? That seems awful quick for how I was feeling."

She paused, silently considering how to respond to him. "Your body had a little help."

He gave it some thought and noticed the syringe and reddish fluid on the nearby nightstand. "Is that your..." he ventured carefully.

"Yes," she interrupted gently, "but you shouldn't need any more of it now." She collected the items into her hand so swiftly that he wondered if they were ever there. "There are strong healing properties to my blood that were just what you needed, but not enough to cause more permanent reactions to your system," she explained with a sober tone.

Caleb felt a momentary pang of jealously run through him. If he were a vampire, he wouldn't need to worry about illness, and they would have lifetimes available to spend together. Aside from the whole "banishment from sunlight for the remainder of eternity" issue, the benefits seemed to outweigh the detriments to him.

She watched his eyes and detected the momentary conflict reflected across his facial features. I better change the subject quickly. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "You can probably manage some soup and crackers, if you want."

The topic of food hadn't occurred to him until she mentioned it. As if in response, his stomach growled. She rolled her eyes at him and smiled.

"You and your stomach," she teased. "I'll go prepare something for you."

He watched her walk across the large expanse of room and disappear through a door-sized opening at the top of a small series of stairs against the wall.

You're just full of surprises, aren't you? he wondered.

He called in sick the following day, but did so grudgingly because the end of the semester was upon him, and it was a really inconvenient time to be ill. But one thing was for certain, he was very appreciative of Katrina's attentions during his recovery.

"And how is my patient feeling?" she asked with a bright smile as she perched on the edge of the bed dressed in pink cotton pajama pants and a fitted pink cami.

Caleb thought that she had the kind of smile men died for. He considered that perhaps some actually had, in fact. "Much better," he replied. "Thanks, Kat."

She frowned. "Did you just call me a cat?"

"What?" he countered with confusion. "No, K-A-T. You know, a nickname."

Her eyes stared directly into the pillow next to his head with a distant expression, as if fixed upon some other time or place.

"I'm sorry," he insisted. "I wasn't trying to be insulting. It was meant as a term of endearment."

Her hand reached out to stroke the side of his face to still his momentary animation. "My husband used to call me Cath," she said softly, almost too softly to be heard.

His mind raced with this tidbit of information. "Was that your real name?" he asked gently as his hand reached up to hold hers. He recalled that the day before she hadn't wanted to discuss her husband, so he had let the topic drop.

Her eyes looked down into his sadly. "We don't talk about our human lives usually. We try to forget what and who we were then."

He hadn't realized the significance of such information.

"It's something very rare and special when we tell someone our human name," she said.

He started to ask her, but realized that she might not want to tell him. Perhaps I haven't earned that privilege yet. "I understand," he replied somewhat sullenly and looked away from her to stare at the other side of the room.

She frowned down at him and asked, "You don't feel special?"

"Not so much, I suppose," he replied absently as he stared across the room. "It's okay, really. I realize that I'll have to earn a special place in your life over time."

Her hand gripped his chin and forced him to look back at her. She stared back intently into his pale blue eyes and pressed her face to within a half inch of his. "Don't ever say that again," she ordered sternly.

His eyes widened with surprise.

"My name was Catherine," she stated quietly. "My husband called me Cath."

She kissed him on the forehead and laid her soft face next to his.

"Thank you," he replied softly. "I'm honored to know that."

There was a pause as she held her face next to his, and her lips touched his ear. "And you can call me Kat," she whispered. She found his nickname for her somewhat endearing, despite never having been a fan of nicknames in her past. At least, since Cath was last used, she mused darkly.

He turned his lips into her neck and gently kissed her there multiple times. She giggled at the tickling sensation it caused.

"Somebody's feeling better, I see," she remarked slyly as she bent her lips to his.

They kissed lightly for a few moments before she sat up and stared back down at him.

"By tomorrow you'll be back on your feet and feeling as good as new," she assessed with a grin.

"Then I hope tomorrow never comes," he muttered with sincerity.

He felt as if he could lay there staring up at her beautiful face and mane of long red hair forever.

Caleb was actually feeling better by that same afternoon, and he slipped into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He realized that he would be back at the college campus early the next day and considered all the preparations for the upcoming finals. Fortunately, his classes were being tended to during his brief absence by his peers, and he was pleased his division dean was such an understanding person when it came to personal illness.

While Katrina did laundry and other activities, Caleb took the time to walk through the house. There were rooms he actually hadn't seen before, and he felt a stroll would do him some good. He smirked, as the term "stroll" was very appropriate. Katrina's house was a sprawling series of rooms along central hallways on both the first and second floors. The notable exception was how her "lair" was laid out as a large single room, much like an open-architecture apartment where the areas were functionally separated without corresponding walls or partitions. He wondered if all vampires preferred that style of layout.

He made his way down the central hallway on the first floor and walked past the theater room, exercise room, and office study until he reached the end of the corridor. He turned and walked into the small library lined with oak bookshelves packed with volumes of books. A medium-sized window with closed wooden blinds and dark curtains separated the two sides of the room opposite the entrance where he stood.

Beneath the window was a finished oak table and reading chair. But the most notable fixture stood in the middle of the finished wood floor. A rectangular display case containing a simple polished sword sat atop a polished rectangular oak table only slightly larger than the display box it held.

The sword was suspended upon a felt-covered set of wooden blocks. The blade appeared to be approximately three feet in length and was made of a steel alloy of some kind. It was edged on both sides and had a small groove running down the flat length of the blade from the simple crossguard to about six inches before the tip. The hilt was of the same steel construction and included a large rounded pommel set at its base. The weapon appeared to be well-maintained and oiled.

"Nice replica," Caleb noted admiringly.

"It's not a replica," Katrina's voice uttered from the doorway, startling him and causing him a small jolt.

He turned to curiously look at her as she walked over to the display case to stand beside him. Her arm absently wrapped around his waist as their attention returned to the sword inside the display case.

"It was my husband's," she noted quietly.

"He was a collector?" he carefully asked, hoping for additional information about her past.

She quietly considered his question and paused as if deciding how to respond further.

"It was his father's, actually," she added.

He looked at her with an intense, sidelong glance. "Your husband carried this sword?" he asked with more emphasis than intended.

"It was usually above the fireplace, actually," she explained. "My husband was a farmer by trade. Most of his days were spent plowing or tending the animals."

"Katrina, would he have used this sword if he were called to duty?" Caleb gently pressed.

She turned to regard him with a somber stare that revealed nothing of the thoughts going through her mind. Sorry, but you're going to have to work this one out for yourself, she considered thoughtfully.

"You know, soldiers regularly carry swords in ceremonies, even today," she muttered before kissing him on the forehead. She removed her arm from around his waist and silently left the room.

He watched her depart and returned his gaze to the sword before him. Yeah, but this looks nearly medieval, he soberly considered.

He wished that he had more depth of knowledge in the area of historic weapons. Could she be from the medieval period? And how unreal would that be?

* * *

Katrina returned to her computer console, concerned over the growing issue of vampires going missing. First, it was Garett in Paris, and then Octavia in Trondheim, and the past week Wallace from Lima, Peru, had disappeared. She communicated daily with Alton regarding the investigation that he was performing, but so far he had no definitive clues or possible explanations. They were equally uncertain as to whether any of the vampires were still alive, though Alton was inclined to think not. The question as to the common thread associating them was still elusive, as well.

* * *

Caleb returned to work the following day, borrowing Katrina's car to get home just after dawn in order to change into dress clothes and grab some revised lecture notes. His coworkers were relieved regarding his quick recovery, though his strength was still slow in returning. His dean was particularly happy to see him at such a late stage in the semester. Katrina texted him twice that day to check up on him, and he called her once at midday.

That evening, Katrina came by his apartment following a quick detour to pick up dinner for him. He marveled at how caring and attentive she was with him, and she even departed early so that he could get some additional rest. He didn't want her to go, but was in bed scarcely ten minutes before falling asleep. He was also none the wiser as Katrina watched him for a short time from outside on his fire escape through the sheer curtains of his bedroom to ensure he settled in nicely. Old habits, she quietly reflected before stealthily departing to drive home.

As the week of finals finally came to an end, Caleb had a strange visitor to his office Friday afternoon. A tall, dark-haired man appearing to be in his late thirties and wearing a navy blue suit introduced himself as Harry Maddox, personal aide to Ms. Alondra Vargas, the President of Corporate Research Enterprises. The company had recently located in the Atlanta area and was seeking talented people with strong research skills to apply for part-time corporate research projects, which their company performed for client businesses.

According to Maddox, as he spoke with some of the faculty at Robert Fulton Community College, Caleb's name was recommended more than once, so Maddox wanted to make a special effort to reach out to him. Maddox searched for prospective talent at local colleges and universities because professors often had spare time available in their teaching and off-semester schedules to perform the needed research. Also, their professions were geared around the collection and dissemination of information, which made them ideal as part-time contract staff for the company. Caleb was informed that the salaries for such research projects were substantial and worth the time spent on them.

He considered the offer and quickly decided a little extra money would be welcome for gifts during the upcoming holidays. Besides, he considered, there's somebody important in my life now that's worth showering gifts upon. He agreed to fill out one of their online applications and submit it by the end of the week.

Maddox seemed confident an interview would be forthcoming soon after sending his resume, and he thanked Caleb for his time. Later that day, Caleb was feeling hopeful for a little reprieve from his constant penny-pinching, and it boded well that he might be able to pay for more of the activities in which he and Katrina took part. Despite Katrina's recent assurances that her wealth was more than enough for them both, he still felt self-conscious about the topic.

It was a sunny but chilly afternoon as Caleb drove his car across town to the office complex in Atlanta's business district. He was happy the fall semester was over, and he was dismissed from college-related duties until mid-January. And as promised by Mr. Maddox, Caleb had an interview scheduled less than a week after emailing his resume to CRE. Rather than risk disappointment, he decided not to tell Katrina about the opportunity unless he was actually offered a position.

The building was a four-story, modern-looking structure composed of glass facade housing a variety of commercial offices. He parked in an outdoor visitor's spot and went in through the main building entrance.

The interior lobby of the first floor was professionally decorated and sported some comfortable-looking chairs and office sofas interspersed with small metal-framed glass end tables. In lieu of a receptionist, a large LCD display presented a listing of all the various office names and corresponding room numbers. The business owned and operated by Ms. Alondra Vargas was Corporate Research Enterprises, LLC.

"Room number 404," Caleb muttered as he spotted the office listing.

Inside the elevator, he used the closed shiny doors to double-check his appearance. His conservative black suit and starched white shirt was complemented by a splash of color in his bright red tie. He was trimmed in power colors and exuded confidence from the realization.

He absently wondered how many people would be competing for the position. He exited the elevator into the plain-looking hallway and noted the variety of door plaques as he passed by. Some doors were glass and had the name of the business etched into them, while others were solid wooden doors relying on the small plaques next to them to denote the business name. As one might expect, the more social-oriented businesses used the inviting glass door methods, such as the two doctor's offices and one family planning office.

CRE's door was one of the solid oak wood doors utilizing a plaque. It wasn't surprising, since their business mission was geared around research and likely wasn't intended for the general public. He opened the door to the office and immediately noticed the sweet scent of fresh-cut flowers in the air.

The room was painted in rich earth tones and sported a couple of outdoor, Central America-themed pictures. Two large, wooden lateral filing cabinets were against the wall to the left, and a set of office-styled guest chairs were next to them with a small table between the chairs. One chair was occupied by a blonde woman in her mid-forties wearing a light-colored business suit.

Harry Maddox rose from a desk to the right of the door entrance. Maddox's desk was flanked by smaller filing cabinets and a bookcase filled with binders and reference materials. A telephone, computer, and laser printer were sitting atop the desk, and stacks of folders covered most of the remaining area.

Maddox smiled in a friendly manner and walked around the desk to greet Caleb. "Good afternoon, Mr. Taylor. I'm so glad you agreed to attend the interview with Ms. Vargas."

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Maddox," Caleb replied crisply as they shook hands.

Maddox gestured to the empty seat next to the lady to the left and offered, "Please have a seat. I apologize, but we're running a little behind this afternoon. Ms. Spencer is next, and your interview will follow hers."

"Thank you," Caleb replied and took a seat next to the lady, who smiled pleasantly at him in passing.

He watched Maddox return to his desk and begin preparing printed materials and placing them into a manila folder as he glanced at Caleb and inquired, "Mr. Taylor, we have your online application and references, but is there any additional information you would like to add before the interview today?"

Caleb shook his head and smiled, and the phone on the desk came alive on loud speaker. A female voice with a Hispanic accent announced, "Harry, I'm ready for the next applicant. Please send in Ms. Spencer."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied and nodded to the lady sitting next to Caleb.

As the woman rose from her seat, the door to the inner office opened and someone who Caleb recognized from the college exited from the office. It was Jason Newman, a middle-aged professor of English with whom Caleb had chatted on two or three occasions.

A woman with jet-black hair wearing a dark business suit and conservative high-heeled shoes stood slightly behind the man exiting the room.

"Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Newman," the woman issued in a professional tone. "We'll be in touch if you're selected."

Newman thanked her and nodded to Caleb with a friendly expression as he exited the office.

Ms. Vargas smiled at Caleb in an appraising manner before greeting Ms. Spencer and closing the door behind them.

Wow, my prospective employer is beautiful, Caleb reflected. He sighed, glanced over to the desk where Maddox was busily typing away and resigned himself to reading a news magazine on the table next to him.

Within half an hour, the office door opened and Ms. Spencer departed. Caleb rose from his seat and swallowed a little nervously as Ms. Vargas appraised him briefly.

"Caleb Taylor, I believe?" she ventured after considering him for a moment.

Well, that's a good start, I suppose, he thought hopefully as he reached out to shake her hand. "Yes, ma'am," he replied politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," she responded pleasantly. "Please come in."

The room was moderately sized, though at least twice as large as the reception area out front. The furniture in the room was all matching walnut, with a large executive desk, behind which were twin bookcases flanking a curtained window. Two comfortable-looking reading chairs sat in front, with a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table to the left, and a small conference table with seating for six to the right. The window behind the nearby couch was open, though the tinting subdued the light levels.

Ms. Vargas gestured to one of the elegantly finished leather reading chairs, while she orbited the desk to sit in the high-backed leather chair before Caleb. She touched the tips of her fingers to one another on the desktop while considering him, as if studying him. He swallowed once and smiled back pleasantly.

"Mr. Taylor, thank you for coming in this afternoon," she began. "Please tell me a little about yourself."

He related his experience as a history professor at Robert Fulton Community College and his graduation with a master's degree in history from Georgia State University. He explained his interest in history was both professional and personal. He smartly tied that into the benefits such skills brought to a research position like the one he was applying for.

Ms. Vargas listened with interest, only interrupting once to ask him to describe in further detail his college thesis on the role of women and minorities during the American Civil War. After he finished speaking, Ms. Vargas nodded her head and adopted an introspective expression.

"We're an international group, with research offices located throughout the world. We locate in areas of customer need and relocate where necessary on short notice," she explained. "Please be aware the position is only part-time and temporary, but we're happy to work around your available hours, so long as we receive your research reports back in a timely fashion based upon the communicated deadlines."

Caleb nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

"Our clients are companies preparing for a host of activities, including possible takeovers, market expansion, and reorganizations," she stated. "They appreciate discretion and expediency."

He nodded his head in understanding.

She asked him about his organizational skills, research experience, and a host of other questions about his interest in the position, as well as how much time he would have to devote to performing the research. Finally, she sat back in her chair and smiled at him. It wasn't unnerving, but more in the manner of being appreciative. "Mr. Taylor," she began.

"Please, call me Caleb," he offered.

She appeared to be momentarily caught off-guard, but quickly recovered. The corner of one side of her mouth upturned slightly. "I must confess, Caleb, as I performed some research on your background prior to your interview today, I wasn't precisely sure what to expect," she offered candidly.

His eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent for the moment.

"However, I'm intrigued," she noted appraisingly.

He smiled in a hopeful manner.

"Having heard my expectations and a little more about the nature of the position, are you still interested?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes, Ms. Vargas. I'm very interested."

She smiled in a satisfied manner and rose from her chair. "Congratulations, Caleb. You're hired," she offered while reaching out to shake his hand.

He smiled brightly and shook her hand. "Thank you, Ms. Vargas," he offered sincerely. "I won't let you down."

She smirked and replied, "Somehow, Caleb, I don't think you will."

As she moved to guide him back to the closed office door, Caleb turned to her and noted the curious rise of her eyebrow in response.

"One question," he ventured. "When do I start?"

"How about tonight?" she asked.

He was caught off guard, and his eyes reflected surprise. "Tonight?"

"Certainly. We can discuss the research in question over dinner tonight. You can even claim the time on your timesheet as a required business meeting," she offered with a confident smile. "Let's say eight o'clock at Tomasso's Peak?"

He smiled nervously, realizing it was one of the city's more elegant and exclusive restaurants. He was also suspicious of such an invitation over merely a part-time research position.

"Is everything okay, Caleb?" she inquired carefully.

"Well, yes. I mean, I'm flattered," he began uncomfortably. "It's just very unexpected, and I'm only a part-time employee."

She barely seemed to contain her amusement. "I appreciate the contributions of all of our staff, no matter the position. And one hardly requires major occasions to be celebratory, Caleb. Let's just say I have a positive feeling, and high hopes, for how helpful your contribution is going to be to my ventures here."

He frowned slightly but managed an appreciative expression at the same time. "That's very kind, thank you," he replied. This is very strange.

Ms. Vargas opened the door and stated emphatically, "It's settled. Eight o'clock, then."

He shook her hand once more, and she looked to Maddox with a bright smile.

"Harry, I'm pleased to say that Mr. Taylor - Caleb is joining our Atlanta venture," Ms. Vargas announced.

Maddox smiled congenially and reached out to shake Caleb's hand again. "Congratulations, Caleb," he offered. "You just can't know how much we're going to appreciate your assistance here in Atlanta."

Caleb smiled and left the office feeling somewhat relieved and surprised at the same time. That was the strangest interview I've ever attended, he thought as he drove away. Halfway home, he changed his mind and decided to go directly to Katrina's to share the good news with her firsthand.

When he arrived at Katrina's estate, he realized that it was one of the few times he had visited her during the daytime. As he stood outside ringing the doorbell, it occurred to him he hadn't called ahead to let her know he was coming.

"Caleb?" came Katrina's voice over the speaker at the front door next to a small video camera.

"Hi, Kat," he greeted into the camera lens with a smile. "I hope you don't mind my coming by unannounced. I've got great news!"

The front door clicked, and her voice replied, "Come in, my love. I'm in the lower level."

"Ah, you're in the 'lair' again," he quipped with a grin as he opened the front door and entered.

The blinds and curtains in the house were shut, but some emanations of sunlight still glowed around the windows. He shut the front door, headed past the stairs leading to the upper level and into a lengthy hallway to his right. He heard the front door lock itself before he turned the corner.

The hidden sliding door to the lower level was open, and he immediately spotted Katrina sitting before her massive computer hutch where multiple computers were set up. He referred to the giant room as her "lair" because it was essentially a small windowless apartment, capable of supporting all primary living functions. He thought of it as a subterranean bunker, of sorts.

She smiled at him as he appeared in the doorway, and he practically glided down the short flight of carpeted steps to the floor level.

She took a moment to admire his sharply dressed appearance and rose to hug him as he approached her. She planted a kiss firmly on his lips once he was in her arms. "Somebody looks very sophisticated," she complimented with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Thank you," he replied, his arms still wrapped around her slim waist. "And this sophisticated gentleman in your arms has excellent news, I might add."

She smiled, appreciating the upbeat tone of his voice surrounding the mysterious news.

"I just landed a potentially lucrative part-time consulting job," he announced proudly. "Best of all, it works around my available hours."

She frowned, suspicious about how good it sounded. "And what's the catch?" she insisted. "You have to leave town? You have to pay some money up front? What?"

He looked slightly taken aback and retorted, "I applied online and just finished my interview across town."

"Okay, you've piqued my curiosity," she admitted as she led him by the hand into a side alcove set into one corner of the room.

Caleb observed that the alcove contained a fully equipped wet bar and a leather couch set before a large-screen TV and multimedia surround sound system. Impressive, he admired.

She stripped his suit coat from him, laid it across the back of the couch, and pulled him onto the couch with her. Rolling him onto his back, she lay slightly atop him, staring at him with an amused expression.

"There, you're trapped," she said smugly. "Now tell me what this is all about, because it sounds too good to be true, my love."

He smiled and recounted how he met Harry Maddox and interviewed with Alondra Vargas. He also related what he discovered about Corporate Research Enterprises, LLC.

She seemed intrigued, but frowned slightly when he got to the part about dinner with his new employer that evening.

"That's one of the best restaurants in town, Caleb," she said with a frown. "Just what is she expecting from you in return for dinner?"

His complexion flushed slightly at the thought. "Hopefully, just a 'thank you' for the dinner and the promise of hard work on some research project for her company."

"Is she attractive?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Be honest with me. I can read you like a book."

He stared into her eyes and answered sincerely, "Actually, she is a beautiful woman."

"Hm," she replied somewhat evenly. "I want you to come by and tell me everything after dinner. And remember, if I detect anything more than the scent of her on your shoulder from a discreet hug, I'm going to kill her and likely bite you, but without the nice numbing sensation."

His eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed hard.

Her eyes softened, and she smiled slyly. "Got you," she teased.

He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and rolled his eyes. "Aw, Kat!" he breathed with exasperation.

"I'm only partially kidding, however," she clarified mildly. "I want you to call me after dinner. I'm curious to hear if there's more to this than meets the eye."

He bent his head up to kiss her quickly on the lips and admonished, "There isn't a woman in the world that's enough to compete with my beautiful vampire."

She kissed him warmly, sensing the actual sincerity in his voice and expression.

"Good boy," she teased him. "I see the potential for continued survival in your future."

He smirked, shook his head at her, and suddenly glanced at his watch. "Ohmygosh," he muttered. "I have just enough time to go home, shower, change clothes, and meet Ms. Vargas at the restaurant."

She let him off the couch with a sigh and managed to get a last quick kiss from him before he raced back up the stairs to leave.

"I'll call after dinner tonight," he promised as he reached the hallway.

"You better!" she yelled back at him as she went to the computer and began pulling up any information she could find related to Corporate Research Enterprises, LLC.

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