He said his name was Alan.
I doubted this was true.
He was a little man dressed in a dark suit and a bright yellow tie. I imagine he liked it because it reminded him of gold. He wore spectacles and his hair was thin on top of his head.
As he took a seat in the library, Vela gave a little curtsey and made to leave.
As she turned, she shivered. "Is it cold in here, Master? Do you need more firewood?"
"I don't think so, Vela. It feels quite warm over here."
"Okay," she said, not looking very convinced.
"Would you like a drink?" I asked Alan.
"No, thank you," he said with a tense shake of his head. "This is purely business, not pleasure. Feel free to have one yourself."
"Master? If you like, I can bring you one of the leftover Instagrammers?" Vela's face managed to remain completely impassive as she said it. "Or we still have that young Spanish model."
"She was Type A, wasn't she?"
"Type AB, Master," she said, struggling not to giggle. "AB Plus."
"And the Instagrammers?"
"Type O and a B Minus."
"I think I've had more than enough B Minus for the week. We don't have any A Plus, do we?" I sighed with a little more drama than I needed to. I gave the little man a weary look. "One gets so tired of the common Types, you know."
"I'm sorry, Master," Vela said. "I'll ask Hina to see who she can round up. There's a Basketball game on tonight, so I'm sure she'll find someone."
Alan hid the wince well, but I smiled to show him I'd caught it.
For a brief second, he'd forgotten what I was.
"That would be most appreciated, Vela."
"You're welcome, Master." She paused, looking around the doorway. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Not right now."
"I'll close the door," she said as she left. "There seems to be a draft coming in."
"Thank you, Vela."
As he spoke, his eyes drifted across the books. If he was surprised by any of their titles, he didn't show it.
"I'm from the IRS," he said coldly, trying to regain control of the mood.
"And I am from Transylvania," I said drily, feeling a spark of irritation at his tone. "What is it you want?"
"To remind you of your obligations," he said. "You have unpaid taxes. A lot of unpaid taxes."
My lip twitched at that. "Really?"
"Really," he said, gripping his chair firmly. "And I wouldn't treat this like a laughing matter if I were you."
"I have never treated taxes or tributes as a laughing matter," I told him, remembering a virtual forest of Saxons impaled on stakes in a field. "I believe my record for that speaks for itself."
"Good." He clearly didn't know what I was talking about. If he had, he might not have sounded so satisfied. "This meeting is simply a reminder of that fact and an opportunity for you to resolve the issue."
"How kind of you," I said. "But shouldn't you be representing the government of Germany? That's where I died, you know. Technically, I was a citizen of Germany at the time of my death."
"That was a long time ago, Count," he snapped. The way he used my title showed he clearly didn't respect it. "The laws for vampires and taxes are quite clear. The country in which you are awake in is responsible for your taxes."
"That would make it terribly confusing when I'm travelling, wouldn't it?"
"You're not travelling," he countered, not quite grinding his teeth. "This apartment belongs to you. Thus, you are a resident."
"It belongs to the Renfields."
"Who report to you." He spread his lips into a smile which some vampires would envy. "We have laws relating to shell organisations which represent vampires, too."
"Good for you."
"I don't believe you're taking this very seriously at all, Count."
"Oh, I'm most definitely not."
"You should."
"Why is that?"
"You owe a considerable debt." His eyes flicked towards the doorway. "If we fail to come to an agreement, there will be… consequences."
"Describe these consequences," I said, showing no emotion. "In detail."
"We'll confiscate all your assets to start with," he growled quickly. "This Tower, your share portfolio, your companies… Everything!"
"I have companies?" I frowned at that.
I really needed to sit down with Vela and our accountants and lawyers. I had a feeling there was a financial web here which was going to give me a headache if I didn't sort it out.
"We'll leave you with nothing!"
I thought of the money I could make selling Bloodstones.
I'd need to remember how to make them first, though. I didn't think my newfound Bloodline abilities would help in this case. I needed to work on my Meridians and Crucibles soon. While my Bloodline was working to stabilize my body, my Meridians were the first key to regaining my lost powers.
Of course, for me to do that, I needed some peace and quiet.
"Hmm," I said. "I'm sure I'll survive."
"If you're thinking of fleeing the country, you're wasting your time. The IRS has a long arm, Count. In your era, maybe it wasn't so. Things were a lot more primitive then. But in this modern age, you'll find we are in fact the closest thing to God."
"Does the Pope know?"
The little man shifted awkwardly in his chair, trying not to drag his eyes away from me.
Trying not to look to the doorway.
His fingers knotted together and a bead of sweat trickled down the side of his chin as he grew more flustered.
"I don't think you quite understand the position you're in. You could lose everything. What will happen to your Renfields then? Don't you care about them at all?"
I felt a warm heat flare in my gaze as he spoke.
Disappointed, I realised I couldn't hide it from him. It seemed my Renfields and their sacrifice had affected me a great deal more than I expected. My need to protect them was, it seemed, becoming instinct.
He caught the change, and no doubt thought it a weakness.
An angle he could dig into like a dog who'd sniffed a bone.
"They've been growing your financial empire for decades, you know. And this is how you're going to treat them?"
"They will survive with me."
"The girl who brought me here looked pretty," he sighed, shaking his head sadly. "She'll be reduced to selling herself on a street corner just to support you. Is that what you are now? A pimp?"
I glanced at the ring on his finger.
"You're married."
He started, unconsciously covering it from view. "So?"
Leaning forward, I smiled my vampire smile which made his own look like a pale imitation. "If anything happens to my Renfields because of you, I will find your wife. And I will drink every drop of her blood. Then I'll find your children. And your siblings. And their families. I will root out everybody you know. Everybody you're related to. I will leave you alone in this world, little man. Alone to contemplate the foolishness of coming here to my home and daring to threaten me."
"You can't-"
"I think you'll find I very much can."
"We have technology now," the little man sneered. "And soldiers specialised in dealing with your kind. Not like those pathetic Helsings who visited you earlier. No, we have weapons you couldn't even imagine. We can drop a drone outside your window and you wouldn't even hear it before you were ashed!"
"Perhaps," I said. "But the feeble little mutants you've been dealing with aren't real vampires, are they? What works on them, will not work with me."
"What?"
"You have dreamed yourself to be a shark," I told him. "But you are a minnow."
His fingers clenched and his face turned bright red with rage. "How dare you talk to me like that. I work for the IRS!"
"Hmm. I think that's enough amusement for now." I turned my gaze to the doorway where the air was colder than it should be. "If you don't introduce yourself, I'll snap his neck."