A delightful brew of hazelnut coffee drifted through Bloodworth’s law firm when Merritt stepped inside with his briefcase bag. Bright silvery embers encased the doorframe, flickering like fireflies in the pitch black outside. Bandit trailed close behind him, sniffing curiously at the air, as Merritt closed it behind them.

His boss had instructed him to meet at the office firm instead of the debriefing office he rented out at the courthouse.  It was located on the corner of Fangcrest Street, across from the local library and one of Hawthorn’s notorious blood banks.  Merritt shivered to even think about being in such close proximity to the place.

The door had opened for him with the enchanted thou shall enter spell Bloodworth had entrusted to him.  It was the first time he’d ever been inside Bloodworth’s actual law firm, and was pleasantly surprised by the fancy decorum.  

A glass chandelier twinkled with golden chimes above his head, flaring to life with small candles.  For a vampire without fire magic, it was a magnificent sight to bestow upon.  Merritt had done his diligence on the Bloodworth family, however, and knew many of the Bloodworth lineage were born with fire in their veins.  It was Bloodworth’s mother who had passed him his wind magic.

Portraits mounted the surrounding walls of famous justice pieces, like the blind lady holding her scales, and a gavel signed by the notorious vampire judge who enacted the midnight curfew on their country.  Bloodworth had some serious connections to receive artwork created by that austere vamp.  

Merritt wandered further into the office, following the smell of coffee until he reached a receptionist desk with a crystal ball in its cradle. Beside it lay a small corner table with a coffee pot and row of black bat-shaped mugs.  

“Good morning.” Bloodworth appeared behind him like a shadow, startling poor Merritt with a gasp as he clutched his chest.  What a way to start off his second morning with a fanging heart attack. “Apologies, I did not mean to frighten you. Please, help yourself to some coffee. I bought that complicated contraption there for you.”

Merritt raised a brow at the thoughtful gift because he hadn’t expected Bloodworth to even consider food or beverages for him. “Oh, um, thank you.” He glanced at the desk, worrying his lip. “Is it okay to put my briefcase bag here?”

“Yes. It is your desk.” 

“Of course.” Merritt placed his briefcase bag down on the table, eyeing the room like a new stray brought home from the shelter.  “This is quite a big office for one vampire.”

“When my mother ran this particular firm, she had more lawyers working under her for criminal cases.  She preferred not to soil her hands with those and stuck mostly to lawsuits and such,” Bloodworth explained with a wistful look in his piercing crimson eyes.  “In the past hundred years or so, more vampires expanded their horizons and learned the law of both criminal and civil.  Some, like myself, even work for both the prosecution and the defense.  Never simultaneously, of course.”

“Yes, which I found quite fascinating.  I know Gwyneira Grimheart is the first witch to attempt something similar.  She started off with civil cases, as many mortals do, and has worked her way into the world of criminal law.” Merritt could not mask his admiration for the witch lawyer he’d looked up to all throughout school.  

“Ah, of course.  She’s made quite the reputation for herself in the courthouse.”  Was there a trace of admiration in his tone?  Perhaps Merritt was imagining things.

“Will I get to meet her in person?” Merritt asked, hoping he didn’t come across as too eager.  

“Perhaps.” Bloodworth nodded.  “Not tonight, unfortunately.  After last night’s mishap, all my cases have been bumped to Weydonday and the courthouse is closed to the public.”

“Because of what I did?” Merritt’s face heated.  

Bloodworth cocked a brow.  “No.  To investigate what in the hells happened last night. They have a forensic team combing over the site and the kind of magic wielded.” 

“Including mine?” Merritt rasped. 

“Well, yes. But I’ve already explained your situation to the head judge, who turned that over to the police. You’re my official necromancer now. Never had one before.” Bloodworth’s pointy ears twitched. “First time for everything, I suppose.”

“I also looked into the legal consequences I could face. The statute of limitations for arresting my parents over neglecting to inform my abilities has long passed. They could not even charge the doctor who fabricated my medical records.” Merritt relaxed into his new chair, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. 

“Clever. And now you won’t need to worry about any punishment for yourself. Although, I will warn you. There will be vampires very displeased by this. None can harm you in or outside of court, not without facing their own severe punishment. But do expect some hostility at times in court.”

“I attended a law school full of bloodsuckers like that.” Merritt cringed to use such a word in front of his boss, but it was a slip of the tongue. “So you won’t need to worry. I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

“I have no doubt about that.” His smile withered like a rose kissed by the first frost.  “I will confess, tonight will likely be tedious.  I have some errands to run, so you’ll just be here filing old cases for me and answering any crystal ball calls that come through.”

Merritt nodded.  “Yeah, sure.  I can do that.”

Honestly, Merritt did not mind a tedious night one bit.  He welcomed it with open arms.

“If I’m not back in time, there will be a gentlevamp come in to remake his will.  All you’ll need from him is his witness to sign it, along with your signature.  I have a booklet of receipts there on the desk for you, but if at any chance you run out, there’s extras there in the lower lefthand drawer,” Bloodworth said.  “I sent you a list of pricing through the mail before you started, but if you need something to refer back to, check that same drawer with the extra receipts.”

Merritt opened the drawer to verify where everything was, then closed it up.  “All right, sounds good.”

“Please be sure to take your giant rat outside to use the bathroom and don’t let it make messes here in the office.” Bloodworth’s visage twisted in disgust as he pointed down at Bandit, curled up at his feet.  

“Bandit’s well trained, sir.  Also, she’s a raccoon.  Not a rat,” Merritt muttered.

“That’s almost the same thing.” Bloodworth waved a dismissive hand.  

Merritt sighed. “They’re really not.”

After Bloodworth left to run his errands, Merritt moseyed over to the filing cabinets of horror to start organizing like Bloodworth wanted him to.  It did not help that the vamp hadn’t the foresight to label literally anything. Some documents he’d quite literally just shoved into the filing cabinet like they’d sort themselves.  

Since he was still recovering from overusing his magic, he opted for his wand when he chanted a spell to levitate all the files from the first drawer to begin sorting them.  He wondered what his previous interns had done before him, considering the paperwork madness, but figured they likely never even got anywhere near started on it.

Bandit had made herself cozy in his new office chair, eyes darting up in the air as old case files danced across the room.  Thankfully, Merritt had taken on a teacher’s assistant aid role back in school who’d had similarly atrocious disorganization. So it wasn’t all that difficult to get things in order for Bloodworth.

Merritt was always prided for his out of the wand thinking skills back then, even by his vampire professors.  To ensure Bloodworth’s filing system remained organized, he charmed the whole cabinet itself to automatically file any case thrown into it by alphabetical surname.  He also separated the vamp’s civil cases from his criminal ones.

Even when he was long gone, the filing cabinet would continue sorting Bloodworth’s files properly.  At least any other future interns wouldn’t need to worry about them.  

Since it didn’t take Merritt long to sort through those files, he made himself another cup of coffee and curiously wandered around the office.  He peeked inside Bloodworth’s own secluded office like a child sneaking into their parents' forbidden basement.  The door creaked on its hinges as Merritt eased it open, just enough for him to slip through.

Bloodworth’s desk held a few glass plaques and justice honor awards scattered across it. His crystal ball was held in a golden cradle with his name engraved into it.  Beside that, he spied a slip of paper taped to the edge of his desk.  Unable to resist snooping, Merritt moseyed around the desk to glimpse at what it said.

Dinner?  Grotesque thoughts came to mind when Merritt peered at the mini fridge in the corner of the room with a shudder.  He knew depraved vampires who’d dined on more than just blood. Was Bloodworth’s palette just as wicked?

Honestly, Merritt should’ve walked out the door and pretended like he saw nothing.  He wasn’t sure what dinner meant to Bloodworth and would likely be better off not knowing.  Yet that nagging little shitty voice of curiosity bested him as he stepped over to the fridge.  

Not wanting to leave his fingerprints anywhere on it, he whispered a soft spell with his wand to crack open the fridge door.  Blood bags lined the top and bottom shelf, all properly labeled by blood type but none had any recognizable logo on them.  That meant he’d sourced it himself.

Icy nails scraped down Merritt’s spine as he shut the fridge with the wave of his wand, reeling out of the office.  He ensured to close that door as well.  Dinner.  The word replayed in his mind like a broken record as he thought about those blood bags in the fridge. Blood from hopefully willing donors.  And not innocent, naive interns like himself.  

Everything was perfectly fine.  Vampires found willing and eager donors all the time.  He tried not to dwell on how often those donors tended to be unwilling but had no choice as he returned to his desk.  

He remembered his contract vividly, how Bloodworth promised protections against those mandated blood donations and feedings.  But was it possible he’d overlooked something? Like a legal loophole of some kind?

Goddesses, protect his soul.