The night dragged on, slow and torturous, as Merritt listened to the rhythmic pounding of raindrops hitting the rooftop.  No weather witches had predicted another storm, leaving him to wonder if the Goddesses were trying to drown them all in its misery.

Merritt couldn’t imagine anyone bracing such elements as he absentmindedly stroked Bandit’s head, who’d nestled down in his lap.  He’d expected Bloodworth to be back nearly two hours ago, and kept checking his watch in preparation of leaving when he’d put his time in for the night.  

For all he knew, the vampire lawyer was out somewhere fangs deep in some maiden.  

Unlike the windowless courthouse office, the firm offered a view, with broad panes overlooking rain-soaked streets. He often found himself drawn to the window near his desk, watching as raindrops fell like tears down the glass. More than anything though, he missed the warm embrace of sunlight. 

After the undead unleashed chaos overseas, a curfew was set in Valorath when paranoia gripped their vampire rulers by the throats.  They wanted to take no chances of any mortals summoning the dead while the vampires lay rest in their coffins in the morning, so nothing could open during the daylight hours.  Everyone had to readjust to the vampire’s nightlife.

Thankfully, it had not altered Merritt’s schedule any.  The curfew came while he’d been in law school, when he’d already acclimated to those grueling hours.

Thunder struck the sky simultaneously as the firm’s door walloped open.  

Outside, the wind wailed like a banshee as Merritt gathered his bearings at the sight of Bloodworth soaked from head to toe in his pristine wool black suit.  The fabric clung to him like a second skin as he shook rivulets of rain from his blond hair, cursing up a storm of his own.  Each footfall squelched as he entered the firm with a deepening frown.

Merritt tried with all his might not to snicker at Bloodworth’s plight, but failed miserably.  It was such a sight to see him when he had such a cool and professional aura to him, now resembling a drenched alleycat hurrying in with its tail tucked between its legs.

The way Bloodworth looked at him like he’d lost his crystal balls only made it harder not to laugh.  Those penetrating vermillion eyes assessed him with pure confusion written all across his chiseled facial features.  Honestly, how was he still able to look so fanging beautiful like that?

When Bloodworth approached his desk, he couldn’t resist admiring the way his suit clung so tightly to his muscular chest and forearms.  Merritt admitted he had an absolute utter weakness for a man with strong arms.  His conscience rebelled and screamed at him not to let such thoughts roam so freely. But the rest of him did not mind ogling the eye-candy presented to him like Hallow’s Eve had come early and delivered such a delicious treat.

“Is this amusing to you?” Bloodworth’s voice cut through the air like a knife.  The malice in his tone just didn’t quite reach the gentle hues of his irises.  

“It certainly is.” Merritt chuckled as he reached out for Bloodworth with far more familiarity than he should’ve. He hooked his fingers around his black tie, forcing him to come down to eye-level with him.  

What little irritation simmered beyond those brilliant eyes faded to sheer bewonderment when Merritt brought a hand to the side of his face.  Warm magic tingled against his fingertips as he let it pour out in small, gentle waves to dry him.  Bloodworth had flinched at the initial contact, but he felt him relax into his touch.

“My mom used to do this for me when I was little,” Merritt said.  “We have a pond at the old house, where ducks loved to flock to, and I liked to chase them in the water.  I’d come back inside later, soaked from head to toe much like you are.”  His fingers delicately moved up toward Bloodworth’s feathery soft blond hair, tracing the arch of his pointed ear.  “She always got on me about keeping my ears warm and dry.”

“Did she now?” Bloodworth rasped as the very points of his ears bloomed with color.

Merritt hummed a soft “Mmh” and continued to let his magic channel through Bloodworth, until every last bit of rain had dried completely from him.  “You should use a waterproof charm when out in such dreadful storms.”

“Perhaps if my mother had blessed me with water magic in my veins I could.” Bloodworth scoffed.

Sometimes Merritt forgot how certain spells he used so freely were conjured from his own mind, not something others had knowledge of.  Many magic wielders never cared to learn spells from magic not derived from their blood-given element.  Merritt, however, had.  Especially water magic because it had many similarities and overlaps to wind magic.

Once his drying spell dwindled, Merritt took a moment to consider if he ought to tell Bloodworth about his own waterproof charm.  Learning he could banish demons and see spirits was already quite a lot.  Spellmakers were far more rare for their craft, as many no longer even bothered to create new spells with the abundance of spellbooks offered all across the lands.

“Abipluvia.” Radiant sparks ignited on the tips of Merritt’s fingers with the spell’s name alone.  “Since we cannot control the rain itself, we manipulate the air around the rain to keep us dry.  This works more efficiently with a conduit rather than freehand magic like I just used.  I personally tend to use my umbrella, but anything would work just as well.”

Bloodworth arched his brow.  “I’ve never heard of such a spell.  Where did you learn it?”

“Ancient Lark grimoire.” The lie rolled right off his tongue.  Many witch and wizard families had their own personal spellbooks full of spells that never quite reached the public, so it wasn’t farfetched.

“And the drying charm you just used?” Bloodworth’s lips twitched into a half-smirk.  “Another riveting spell from the Lark grimoire?”

“Yes, actually.” Merritt could not hide his own grin, wondering what the vampire lawyer would truly think about his own spellmaking.  

He considered telling him all about it merely for bragging purposes because he’d always loved to impress his professors back in college, but something forced him to bite his tongue.  If Bloodworth knew of his craft, there was a chance he could make him create heinous spells. Perhaps even ones that aided him in harming witches and wizards alike for their precious blood.

Never let an enemy anticipate your next move. Merritt learned that from the ghost of a female serial killer he’d met back in college.  So, instead of letting Bloodworth reel away from him, Merritt found himself standing to his feet, up on his tiptoes just to reach the man and cup his face between his hands.  

Vampires had no reason for such delicate soft skin.  Merritt could not help but trace his thumb down to his jawline, hovering just below the seam of his dark stained lips.  Seriously, the vamp had to have made a deal with a demon just to look so godsdamn dashing.  

Merritt couldn’t help the sinful thought that flashed through his mind to bite his lip, just so he could get a taste of how it felt to be bitten.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Merritt’s heart thundered over the sound of his own voice, and he hated to think of Bloodworth hearing it too.  

“Do you?” Bloodworth hissed as a rosy shade crept down his slim neck.  

Merritt hummed a breathless “yes” in response, then said, “Just one touch, and he could kill me with ease.”

Perhaps it was not a brilliant idea to threaten his boss when he’d shown nothing but kindness toward him thus far, but he needed to make sure he knew his place.  Merritt had not forgotten that note on his desk about dinner.  He would not become a blood bag, even for a pay raise.  

When Merritt released him, he expected Bloodworth to curse him out.  He’d expected a flash of fangs in defense.  No vampire liked to be threatened by a mortal.  However, Bloodworth’s moonblessed skin flushed with color.  So much, that if he’d worn a coat and sunglasses, he could’ve passed for a witch himself.  

“I have business I must tend to.” Bloodworth’s words wavered as he hurried to his office and slammed the door behind him before Merritt even had a chance to blink.

Guilt tangled around his heart at the thought of actually frightening his new boss. He should not feel bad for making a vampire afraid of him.  They had spent their whole fanging existence frightening young men like himself into obedience.  Merritt would show him he was no weakling, but as he looked toward his boss’s office, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gone too far.

Merritt had never imagined he could feel such a thing for a vampire, but he could not bring himself to stand from his desk to apologize.