The Secretary

Forgotten Hollow
Castello di Vannucci

The tall, very slender, borderline lanky man rushed after the slightly shorter man, who had turned and walked off to return some thick tomes to their rightful spots in one of the many bookshelves.

“I am no secretary! What the fuck, Cesare?! I don’t have the legs to pull off a miniskirt and don’t have the patience to paint my nails! I don’t like writing, unless it’s music! I can write you songs all day long! Don’t make me do that shitty desk job! A monkey in a suit could do that! Ask the monkey who previously had that job and now doesn’t want it anymore!” Blaine’s voice echoed through the library; his frustration palpable.

“The previous monkey is mildly offended,” stated Riordan from near the desk, his tone dry and amused.

Cesare, the oldest one, clearly the leader as his demeanor suggested, shrugged at Blaine’s outburst. “Blaine, your crude humor is as refreshing as ever,” he replied, his voice calm and measured. “But perhaps you could channel that energy into something more productive?”

Blaine rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as Cesare continued to shelve the books. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, ancient one.”

They were vampires, all three, but their ages and ranks varied. All three men had dark hair and wore all black, like most vampires do. The oldest one was the leader of the entire Vannucci Coven, Cesare Vannucci. Born in early 1500s Florence into a wealthy family, an Italian nobleman father and an Irish aristocratic mother, Cesare’s life took a tragic turn when his entire household was assassinated by political adversaries of his influential father. Cesare and his sister Caterina barely managed to escape the bloodbath at their home, only to fall prey to a rogue vampire who cruelly turned them, then abandoned them without any guidance about the harrowing process of dying, then rising again, transformed. Most new vampires perish if not carefully instructed, yet, against all odds, they survived, fled the old country, and started a new life on this continent.

Cesare, frozen in time looking about thirty, was of Italian descent. His medium brown hair was worn longer and pulled back in a sort of low medieval style bun. His eyes were piercing and mesmerizing, a very pale grey that seemed silver. Cesare learned everything the hard way or from books. When his time to lead came, he seized it and transformed the once chaotic and bloodthirsty reign of the vampires into an orderly group operating in the shadows. He maintained their existence as mythological creatures, hiding in plain sight of the mortals they often fed on. Cesare pressed his flock to utilize blood alternatives to blend in better. Centuries of study allowed him to cultivate these alternatives and teach his subjects to become daywalkers, no longer bound to the darkness of night. He protected mortals by enforcing strict rules and laws, employing his own army of vampire executioners to eliminate those who refused to follow.

The second oldest was Riordan Hargrave, Cesare’s nephew. An illegitimate child by Cesare’s sister Caterina, Riordan was rejected by his father once he realized what Caterina was. She killed him and abandoned the child, whom Cesare took in and trained. Riordan, who was born a vampire, showed features of both his Japanese father and Italian mother. His eyes were large and black as coals, lined by thick lashes. His hair was a deep, warm brown, bleached by the year round sun at his villa in the Tartosian countryside and pulled back into a low ponytail. For over a hundred years, Riordan loyally served his uncle as his right hand and secretary. However, he now wished to retire to the old Villa in Tartosa to breed black horses and make wine. Vampires loved feasts, and their libations included not just blood but also wine. It took vampires longer to become intoxicated, so having their own supplier was beneficial. Cesare allowed it but struggled to find a replacement.

The youngest was Blaine Cameron, Cesare’s son-in-law. Blaine was mortal until he was almost 40 and was a rock musician, which he still looked like. Very tall and skinny, his eyes were a very light translucent shade of green. His black hair was shaggy and longer, and he had tattoos on his arms, hands, back and chest. His shirt was usually half unbuttoned, showing his tattoos, and his sleeves were pulled up, revealing thick leather bracelets on his wrists. Blaine’s transformation into a vampire a few decades ago now had added a rebellious edge to the coven, contrasting with Cesare’s disciplined leadership and Riordan’s loyal service.

Initially, Cesare’s daughter Scarlett had stepped in for Riordan, but when she joined the esteemed vampire council, Cesare found himself in need of trustworthy help again. He attempted to employ his son Caelan, who oversaw and lead the executioners. Born with very little humanity, Caelan was a merciless killer, not suited for paperwork and law books, but obedient to his father.

Cesare didn’t trust easily, knowing vampires’ senses worked differently from mortals and loyalty was always a tightrope walk. Most vampires were opportunists, ready to usurp their leader if given a chance. Cesare strategically placed only his closest inner circle in positions of importance, creating a sort of protective force field around him to thwart off any inkling of anyone even attempting to take his seat.

Enter his son-in-law, Cesare’s daughter Scarlett’s husband Blaine Cameron. An unlikely choice, but one of exceedingly limited choices as trustworthy replacement. Blaine was an incurable jokester, prankster, and potty mouth. He embodied everything that normally made Cesare cringe, but Cesare knew Blaine would never betray him, which took precedence.

Cesare now turned to him.

“Blaine, you seem to be under the erroneous impression this is a choice. It’s not. A decision was made, by me, and it stands, non-negotiable. You would do well to sit with Riordan so he can show you the ropes. You have much to learn, quickly at that, best get to it.” Cesare’s tone was firm and a warning in itself.

Contrary to popular belief, vampires weren’t above reproach, and they very much could be killed. Being called immortal only meant they wouldn’t expire naturally, as mortals did. So, even vampires lived in the fearful knowledge that breaking laws and rules could cost them their lives. As could disrespect towards their coven leader.

“And for your information, Blaine, I have yet to wear a skirt, or even a kilt for that matter, and not once have I painted my nails. So, grab a notepad, listen, watch, and take good notes,” Riordan added.

Blaine grimaced, mumbling unflattering, off-color curses under his breath, but did as told.

Some hours later, he was tasked with writing up a new edict when Caelan Vannucci entered.

“Father, I have secured the location of Certus. Did you want me to bring him here for sentencing or just do away with him and… what the… oh come on now! What is THAT clown doing in your chair!? Can I remove him and kick his ass back to his own house?!”

“No Caelan, I have named Blaine as Riordan’s replacement now. He is writing up an edict to be read at the next meeting. As for your job, bring Certus here. I will publicly make an example of him, with Blaine’s help.”

“For heaven’s sake, that moron and writing?! He is supposedly a career musician and never managed anything decent, only rude, crude whiny drivel accompanied by excruciating noise! If that idiot can write at all, it would be some mindless nonsense with grammar and spelling errors, and probably doodled phallus symbols all over!” Caelan ranted.

Flipping him off from behind the desk, Blaine shot back, “Sounds like you are pretty familiar with my music though, don’t worry, I don’t judge my closet-fanbase. But why don’t you go and shove a cactus up every single one of your orifices, you phallus symbol?! Then again, knowing your creepy self, you’d probably like it—a lot. Probably just another Tuesday for you.”

Caelan rushed over and pulled Blaine off the chair and up to standing, ready to punch him or worse, when his father cleared his throat. Caelan immediately released Blaine, showing once more how powerful Cesare was. He was the oldest currently living vampire, his powers immense, but he rarely needed to display them. His reputation preceded him, and few ever took him up on it to deal with the consequences. His only son would never be foolish enough.

“Yeah. Thanks for the exercise, Frankenstein. If you are done swinging your microscopic dick around, then I’d like to get back to work. Run along then, don’t bother the adults when they are working.” Blaine purposely poured oil into Caelan’s raging fire of anger.

“Father!”

“Yes, yes. Blaine, please apologize to Caelan, as your behavior is unacceptable and unsuitable for your position. Being my right hand and secretary is a station of great honor. I urge you to treat it as such.”

“Apologize for what? His dick size? Okay, fair enough, admittedly I never actually seen it, nor do I want to, and I don’t think we even own a magnifying glass, but judging by the fact that he is permanently miserable and grumpy, while I have lots to smile about, not to mention that I fathered 7 kids—and maybe counting—and he barely managed one, what am I supposed to think, right? Either he’s frustrated that his tool is malfunctioning or his Missus finds him as appalling as the rest of us and he ain’t getting any, or even he can’t find his pimplesized organ. I also vividly remember having been reprimanded by various coven members for being too enthusiastic with your daughter doing marital activities with the windows open, but I never heard any such complaints about Caelan and he lives right here in this castle, while I live down the street. Just sayin’…”

“BLAINE, please desist. Apologize for your drivel without elaborate explanation. Nobody here is even remotely interested in your self-perceived sexual prowess, not to mention that it is my daughter you are speaking about!”

“Okay, okay, before everyone gets their G-Strings in a wad here, sorry dude. Bet if your dick were as big as that stick up your ass you could use it as a third…”

“BLAINE! You are trying my patience!” Cesare stopped him, while Caelan was fuming.

“Fiiiiiiine. Sorry.” Blaine dragged.

“Hmph. May I be excused, father? I suddenly feel in a killing mood. Are you sure about Certus? Seeing his head severed and drying on a stake would do wonders for my mood, especially since he has dark shaggy hair like this fool here.”

“I do not think Blaine’s insolence should be another man’s burden to bear, so no, Caelan, you will do as I instructed you to do. You will take him into custody, in one piece, if you please. Maybe sitting through the full stages of a proper sentencing of another vampire will clear the nonsense from Blaine’s warped mind when he sees first hand why and how we do what we do. I prefer you to stay for a while, son, until you have simmered down sufficienly. Maybe see if your mother has some libations to help you cool down. Some wine, maybe? Riordan kindly brought another batch with him.”

“Oh, so I get yelled at for being a little playful, but you get to insult me straight up?! How’s that fair?” Blaine pouted at Cesare, who visibly wrestled with his patience.

“Let’s see, Blaine. I am the leader, I make the rules, and I am much, MUCH older and much, MUCH, MUCH more powerful than you. Does that sufficiently answer your question or need I make my position clearer?”

“Nah, that’s okay, keep your vampire gimmicks holstered I get it. I’ll be over here doing my homework then. Does this really need to be handwritten? I am not exactly famous for my excellent penmanship, my mother used to say when I write it looks like a chicken had a seizure on my notepad. You all know they make computers and printers now, right? We can even splurge on some really fancy paper and a cool vintage-looking font and type this shit up once, print out copies for everyone, and then just edit as needed as things change. You know, like people do in the 21st century. No offense to your love for handwritten shit, but that should be a hobby, not something to torture your son-in-law with, cos, man, I sure got better things to do and …”

“SIT! WRITE! NOW!” Cesare’s voice echoed.

Scarlett entered with her mother, Cesare’s wife Branwen, both ravishing beauties exuding an air of mystery and class. Branwen, a stunning, timeless Welsh beauty, had long, flowing dark hair and the slightly translucent pale skin typical of vampires, with a slight grayish cast. Her voluptuous figure and regal elegance hinted at centuries of wisdom and experience. Branwen’s face was rounder, with deep, ocean-blue eyes that seemed to hold secrets untold.

Scarlett, equally stunning, possessed a lithe grace that contrasted with her mother’s voluptuousness. Her beauty was ethereal, almost otherworldly, with an enigmatic smile that suggested she knew more than she let on. Her dark hair flowed like her mother’s, but her eyes reflected her father’s silvery grey, and her face was longer and slenderer. Together, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter, their presence commanding attention and respect within the coven and beyond.

“Daddy, why would you be yelling at my husband?” she purred, smiling, while her mother kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh, my petal, because your husband is an insolent manchild, constantly agitating your brother. He does not mind me as he should.”

“I mind her…” Blaine grinned wide, pointing at his wife.

“Yes, Blaine. We know.” Caelan rolled his eyes, then shot Blaine a death glare.

“Caelan be nice. And Blaine, baby, why do you always have to be so difficult around my brother? Don’t you know how proud I am for being offered this position? Oh, did you write all that? I love it. Looks great.”

“Oh gawd …” Caelan groaned, making puking sounds, until his father swatted at him, shooting him a warning glare.

“Oh yeah, I totally wrote this and ten other pages with the same kind of rambling drivel… I mean… decree.”

“Edict. It’s an edict, Blaine! Is it so difficult?!” Cesare snarled.

“Cesare!” Branwen simply said, and the powerful leader of all vampires instantly calmed down, smiling at his wife, while his daughter shook her head at him, placing a peck on his cheek on her way to the desk where her husband was beaming at her.

“Dawwww, daddy, don’t get angry. I am sure Blaine will get the hang of it, won’t you baby?” Scarlett purred, and Blaine was clearly putty in her hands, causing Riordan and Caelan to trade glances and grimaces.

Scarlett leaned closer to Blaine, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “You know, Blaine, being a secretary in the old-fashioned sense is quite prestigious. Think of it as being the Vice-President to my dad being the CEO. It’s a position of great power and influence. And honestly, I find it incredibly sexy imagining you up on the stage with him when this is being read tonight, every single vampire in attendance, watching you and my father. Just imagine what usually happens when you get me all roweled up like this …”

Blaine’s eyes widened, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, when you put it that way, Scarlett, I think I could maybe get used to the idea. As long as they don’t make me wear funny wigs or ridiculous outfits.”

Cesare raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so, Blaine? Then I expect you to fulfill your duties with the utmost diligence. And no worries, this isn’t an English court, nobody wear wigs or anything other than their own clothing, as long as it’s appropriate and covers fully.”

Blaine nodded with his signature crooked grin. “Absolutely, Cesare, you got it, my man. I’ll write you edicts that’ll make you laugh and cry harder for sheer joy than anything ever has.”

Scarlett’s smile widened into a giggle as she kissed Blaine on the cheek. “That’s my man.”

As the tension in the room dissipated, Cesare couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright, now that that’s finally put to bed and Blaine is over his moment of pouting and feeling of emasculation over me elevating him to such a prestigious position, everyone, let’s get back to work. We have a lot to accomplish.”

With newfound determination, Blaine took his place at the desk, ready to embrace his role with vigor. Then, with a cheeky grin, he blurted out, “You know, Scarlett, since your daddy is talking about positions and emasculation whatever, I gotta say, I have had some fantasies that could even set Caelan’s heart of ice on fire about what all you and I could do in this study among all those ancient tomes. I mean, we pretty much done it everywhere else by now …”

The room fell silent. Caelan’s face turned beet red, his eyes blazing with fury. “What did you just say, you disrespectful ape?! Father, you cannot allow this!”

Cesare’s expression darkened, his voice a low growl. “Thank you, Caelan for explaining my place in our society to me again, unwarranted as I might add. And Blaine, you better watch your mouth. You are WAY out of line now! I do not wish to hear ANY more about your licentious ways!”

“And not to be a stickler here, but I believe you don’t quite understand what the term emasculation means …” Riordan added, receiving everyone’s glares, so he shrugged. “What? Clearly, he doesn’t know. He used it totally out of proper context. Maybe Scarlett could explain it to him. Later.”

Scarlett giggled, clearly amused by the chaos her husband had caused. “Oh, Riordan, Blaine is a lot smarter than he lets on, I wouldn’t be surprised if he used it wrong just to push your buttons—and Caelan’s. Blaine, way to undo what I just did to fix this. You really just love causing drama, don’t you?”

Blaine shrugged, still grinning. “Just keeping things interesting, considering there isn’t much to do in this dull old town they made us move to.”

As Caelan fumed and Cesare glared, Branwen and Scarlett exchanged knowing looks, both secretly enjoying the uproar, until Branwen leaned into her husband Cesare.

“Don’t be too upset, love. Not like you and I had never, you know, had very personal … umm … ‘private discussions‘ in your study, my darling. I can see how that would seem … exhilarating, a bawdy fantasy, especially to younger people. Don’t forget Blaine grew up in a bustling metropolis filled with musicians and movie stars, it is understandable how living here in a town solely occupied by vampires, some much older than him could feel restricting and maybe even dull in comparison.”

“Et tu, my love? You side with him? Not to mention none of what we do privately really doesn’t belong here now.” Cesare retorted to his wife.

“Well, Cesare, I understand you have to keep up in front of strangers, but all here present are family and considering we have two children I think people have realized that you and I are not above the pleasures of the flesh and enjoying such pleasures with your partner only keeps a relationship strong. We all know what Blaine is like, just as he has always been since our daughter first brought him for us to meet when they were fifteen. They are nearing a century together now, so why are you all still appalled by his ways? This does not reflect poorly on Blaine, but rather on all of you for judging him. You are blaming a dog for not being a cat here, when you knew it was a dog all along, and no Blaine, I am not calling you a dog. I shall be in the parlor enjoying some tea, should anyone wish to join me.”

As Branwen gracefully exited the room, her parting words lingering in the air, the tension began to ease. Blaine, seated at the desk, glanced around at the expectant faces.

“Well, I guess I better get started on those edicts our fearless leader wants,” he said with a smirk, picking up a pen.

Scarlett leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just remember, Blaine, this position comes with a lot of responsibility. But in a way, it means you’ll be at the superstar level within the vampire community, just like you were in the mortal world. And I know you can handle it.”

Blaine nodded, his expression a mix of determination and his usual irreverence. “Don’t worry, Letty. I’ll make sure Cesare’s edicts are the best this coven has ever seen. Nobody will fall asleep or forget what was just read ever again. I’ll make them memorable.” Blaine smiled at Scarlett, then gave Cesare a thumbs up with both hands.

Cesare, still watching Blaine closely, gave a reluctant nod. “See that you do, Blaine. This is your chance to prove yourself. Use it wisely.”

As Blaine began to write, the room slowly emptied, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He knew this role would be a challenge, but he was ready to face it head-on, the only thing he could do, since declining was apparently not an option.

But as he scribbled lines of the edict, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “I wonder how long it’ll take before he regrets swinging his ancient dick around on me. Let’s test that theory, shall we? Oh yeah, nobody is gonna EVER forget THIS edict, once this is being read in front of all vamps, there won’t be a dry eye left in the house, that I guaran-damn-tee,” he muttered to himself.

With a chuckle, he continued writing, his smirk turning into chuckles occasionally, knowing that while he might adjust to his new position, his rude, crude, mischievous spirit would always find a way to stir things up.