Interview for a Vampire’s Assistant

Sasha pressed generic discount lotion into a paper napkin from the buffet. She swiped it over her face, carefully removing most of her thick stage makeup. A blonde dancer, new to Vegas and winding down from the same shift, shared the mirror.

The blonde, who used the name Marbella while at the club, pulled a fourth brand name makeup wipe out of her purse and swore. She spoke with a Midwestern accent. “Between the shoes and the cosmetics, this job might bankrupt me!”

“You'll get bigger tips when you can work late,” Sasha said. “Afternoon shifts at Station Chugga Chugga are reserved for newbies and people who pissed off Neveah.”

“Is that a napkin?” Marbella asked, gesturing at Sasha’s hand.

In response, Sasha pushed a stack of napkins and her tub of moisturizer over to the new girl. “It cuts through the makeup like that scene in Mulan when she just runs a sleeve over her face. Then I wash off the oils with basic, unscented ‘sensitive skin’ bar soap and moisturize with aloe.”

“That’s all?” Marbella gaped.

“That’s all,” Sasha said.

Marbella gave the moisturizer a try and cooed over the results. “You’re a lifesaver. Thanks, uh, Brooke, right?”

“Brooke while I’m here,” Sasha said. “No problem.”

“How come the night shift manager is pissed off at you? You’re, like, so nice.”

Sasha smiled. “Neveah’s dating my ex. It wasn’t, like, a really bad breakup or anything. He and I just didn’t want the same shit, you know? Anyway, I don’t really know what happened, but like two weeks into them being together, she just completely…” Sasha shrugged. Gossip traveled fast in a small club, and she didn’t want to make anything worse for Marcus. “She wants her space. I do, too. I’m trying for another job.”

“Another club?” Marbella finished with her makeup and returned the lotion. “Are you auditioning for one of the big shows?”

Sasha had, for her first three years in Vegas. She certainly had the height and figure for it, but never even managed a spot in the chorus line. “Nah. This side of twenty-five, I might do better in like, hospitality or something.”

Marbella said something encouraging, and then chattered about her upcoming auditions while they washed their faces and finished up.

Sasha wished she could shower, but the available stalls in the dressing room were disgusting. She didn’t have enough time to go home, wash thoroughly, and make it to her interview. She and Marbella parted amicably in front of the club, and they walked in opposite directions.

Sasha enjoyed the glorious orange and pink sunset as she made her way towards the strip. She sweat through her tee shirt and worried her old sneakers couldn’t contain the smell of her feet. She slipped through the bustling early evening crowd and waited in a long, blessedly air conditioned line at a fast food restaurant.

After a pick-me-up of fries and caffeinated soda, Sasha made her way to the restroom. She felt painfully self-conscious during her baby wipe “bath,” but it was better than nothing. She changed into professional-looking slacks, a blouse borrowed from a roommate, and—

Oh, no.

She had left her nice flats back in her apartment.

Neither glittery platform heels nor beat up old sneakers would send the right signal.

She checked the time on her phone. She only had fifteen minutes before her interview. She quickly skimmed her waiting texts, mostly variations of “Good luck tonight!” from friends.

If she couldn’t look just right, she could at least choose the less smelly option. She wrapped her sneakers in the same plastic bag as the afternoon’s lingerie and the walk’s sweaty loungewear. All of that went in her backpack, and the heels returned to her feet.

Sasha’s interview had been scheduled in a small conference room at one of the city’s oldest and most well-renowned resorts. A concierge instructed her to sit on a bench in the hotel lobby.

Exactly on time, an unassuming young man approached her. “Miss Reilly?”

Sasha stood up. She would have towered over him, even without the heels. A glimpse at his board shorts and Hawaiian shirt eased her worries about her own presentation. “It’s Sasha,” she said, offering a handshake. “Mr… Jaso?”

“Me? Oh, no, I’m not—I’m just—he's, uh…” the man chuckled nervously. He noticed her hand and shook it. “Hi. I’m Darien. I’m Az’s technology and pop culture assistant. Follow me.”

He led her past an elaborate fountain and through lavishly decorated corridors.

“I thought the job I’m interviewing for is an assistant,” Sasha told Darien. “Aznar Jaso needs several?”

“Uh, yeah. I do nerdy stuff for him. Explain superhero movies and, uh, remind him how to copy and paste.” Darien chuckled. “It’s kind of, um, imagine if visiting a grandpa came with a salary and benefits.”

“Do you like working for him?”

“It’s good!” Darien said too quickly. “It’s good. It isn’t hard and Az is super polite.”

They stopped at the door to the conference room. Darien raised his hand to knock, but paused.

Sasha could hear it, too. Inside that room, a woman called out in enthusiastic pleasure.

“Let’s give them another minute,” Darien said, blushing. He leaned against the corridor wall opposite the door.

Sasha asked, “Is that an interview too?” If the answer was yes, she would suddenly remember an urgent appointment.

Darien shook his head vigorously. “He’s having… breakfast.”

The woman howled with joy.

“Breakfast,” Sasha repeated, deadpan.

“The job thingie did say that the hours are, uh, between second and, you know, third shift,” Darien said, referencing the want ad. “Az keeps weird hours.”

“That’s Vegas,” Sasha said. “I’m no stranger to post-sunset breakfasts. I do wonder if this is a good time for Mr Jaso.” Once the words left her mouth, she inwardly cringed at her own phrasing. There was no doubt Jaso and his dining companion were both having a good time.

Darien’s words started to come out with fewer hesitations: “His meals don’t last long. He says he never has a lot in one sitting.”

The moans gave way to the gentle tones of conversation. Before long, the speakers came closer to the door. Sasha heard a deep masculine voice with a slight accent saying, “…The moon waxes, wanes, and waxes full again. May your repose this evening bring you the peace of the deepest forest, and may fortune smile upon you hereafter.”

“Thank you,” the woman said. “Thank you so much.”

Sasha was prepared to see an old, perverted, expensively dressed man and a young, feminine, scantily clad full-service sex worker. When the door opened, she decided to throw any remaining shreds of expectation for this interview out the window.

The woman may have been in her fifties, with silver strands among her mostly-dark hair. She was plain, pear-shaped, dressed in yoga pants and an oversized tee shirt from Shania Twain’s show. She had two adhesive bandages on her neck and a bottle of apple juice in her hand.

This stranger might have mistaken the look on Sasha’s face. She smiled dreamily and said, “Don’t worry, Dear. I was afraid it would hurt, but it was actually wonderful.” She sauntered away.

A delightful conviction flooded Sasha’s heart. She knew with absolute certainty that she would be telling the tale of her most ridiculous job interview to every single friend she ever made.

At the deep voice’s next words, Sasha turned to face her interviewer. “Oh, Darien, confidante of my bosom, how do you fare upon this wondrous evening?”

Sasha wondered if “man” was really the right word. Jaso had the cherubic face and gangly limbs of a guy in his late teens. He had tied a mass of long, light brown curls back with a velvet ribbon. He wore a golf shirt, the trousers from a pinstripe suit, and fluffy hotel slippers.

“Fine, thanks,” Darien replied. “You?”

“My spirit is as a majestic owl, gliding in the skies. On so propitious a night, one might accomplish Herculean feats. I could sack a city. I could tame a dragon. I could send an email.”

Conversation paused awkwardly.

“Neat,” Darien said.

Jaso prompted, “Pray, my friend, introduce me to this fine young lady so that we may converse with propriety.”

Darien smiled nervously. “Uh. Okay. Aznar Jaso of Victoria Gassy—”

“Vitoria-Gasteiz,” Jaso corrected.

“Allow me to introduce Sasha Reilly.”

Jaso bowed formally. Then he realized that Sasha was offering a handshake. “Ah, yes,” he said. He clasped her wrist like a Renaissance Faire actor. “Miss Reilly, it is with effulgent joy that I make your acquaintance.”

“Effulgent?” Sasha asked Darien. “Is this guy for real?”

Darien pinched his own arm and winced. “I keep not waking up.”

Jaso cordially invited both of them to join him in the conference room. Darien reminded him that in the twenty-first century, women did not require escorts and chaperones at all times. Sasha thought she may as well ride this roller coaster of an evening through every dip and loop.

She and the strange youth sat across from each other at the conference table. He began with, “I am a vampire.”

“What kind of vampire?” Sasha asked.

Jaso blinked. He inflected his answers like questions, clearly unsure if they were the information she wanted. “Male? Charming? Aquarius?”

“Meyer or Rice?” Sasha pressed. “Do you sparkle in the sun?” She suddenly remembered a TV show her mother loved when she was little. “Does your face get all bumpy and demonic when you attack your prey?”

“Ah! The clouds of obfuscation part and I begin to grasp the heart of your inquiry. Buffy is on what Darien refers to as my ‘to watch list.’ He brings me so many of this era’s fantastical miracles. Even at night, everything is so vibrant and beautiful and aromatic.”

Sasha shook her head in amazement. “Did Darien kidnap you from some sort of specialized healthcare facility? No judgment, just curiosity.”

Jaso smiled wryly. “Darien found me here, in this room, when he answered an advertisement similar to the one that entwined my fate with yours.

“I awoke last autumn from a slumber nearly two centuries in length. What I had last seen as a small trading post had blossomed into an Eden of perpetual lights and desperate appetites. This is my territory now.”

“Your territory,” Sasha repeated. “Where you watch nineties television and bang cougars.”

“Bang cougars?” Jaso asked. “Is that a reference to the sound of the rifle shot as one hunts a puma?”

Sasha couldn’t help but laugh. “It really isn’t.” She looked around and asked loudly, “Is this a prank show?”

Jaso grinned. “Your wisdom surpasses even your beauty, Miss Reilly. You do not believe without evidence. However, in the verdant field of your mind, the most vivacious flowers to bloom belong to compassion.”

A sudden jolt of shame stopped her laughter. She had been treating this guy’s delusions with derision. Real compassion would have meant helping guide him to the appropriate professionals. Even the indifference of leaving him alone would have been more kind than ridicule.

He said, “If you had been a vicious person, then you would have taken advantage of what you perceive to be the madness of a prospective source of income.”

“Like Darien does?”

Jaso stood. Sasha started to rise, too, thinking the interview had ended. He gestured her to remain seated.

“Darien knows I speak truth,” Jaso said. He casually walked towards the wall behind his seat. “I test the mind and soul of every mortal person I meet.” Without breaking his stride, he walked up the wall, his body parallel to the floor. “I dominate the intelligent but cruel, as they would dominate others.” He walked on the ceiling, his head about two feet above the table. Sasha got the sense that he was looking through her soul. “I respect the unintelligent. Sometimes, they exchange a nourishing drink of their bodily essence for my riches.” He stopped walking. He maintained eye contact with Sasha and rotated his entire body by ninety degrees, so that his left was her down.

She couldn’t see any cables. “Magnets?” she asked, but her voice quivered.

He said, “By treasuring the company of wise and compassionate people, I have imbued my existence with meaning for six and a half thousand years.”

He reached his hand to her. For some reason, she reached back. Soft, warm fingers met soft, warm fingers. Then Sasha’s hand passed through nothing and an uncanny mist poured itself from the air above to the floor behind. The back of her neck prickled with the almost-tangible awareness of a silent presence watching her. She turned and saw Jaso standing behind her with a silly, even disarming grin.

“No bumps on my forehead,” he said. “No sparkles in the sunlight. But I do have retractable fangs.” He opened his mouth wide, too wide, wider than human lips and jaws should naturally allow. Four horrifying white daggers erupted from somewhere between lip and gum, each one in front of an eye tooth.

To Sasha, time froze. The world consisted of nothing but a dark tunnel with a violent end. But, the end did not draw near.

Jaso’s fangs retreated. He closed his mouth. He looked Sasha up and down. He said, “Were you going to fight me?”

That’s when she realized that she had stood up and assumed a defensive stance. Her right hand had pulled her keys out of her pocket and grasped the attached kubaton without her knowledge. The five-inch spike did look a bit ridiculous in the face of an ancient creature of supernatural darkness.

She relaxed her posture. “You’re my first vampire,” she said, “But, not my first predator.”

“I see.” Jaso gave her a companionable nod. “Whether or not you accept a position as a member of my staff, I offer to wreak upon your enemies such vengeance that their gods will topple down from their sacred holdings, powerless in the face of ravening eternity.”

Sasha returned her keys to her pocket. She sat back down. “What exactly are the job responsibilities you want your new ‘assistant’ to perform?”

He moved too fast for Sasha to see. He resumed his own seat, and her heart jumped back into her throat for a moment.

“My business manager Mr Johnathan Whipple, who wants me to call him John, has provided me with a list entitled ‘Az’s Opportunities for Development.’ I desire to find wise and compassionate people who can each assist me in at least two categories.” He pushed a piece of standard printer paper in front of her. “I shall collect my experts like posies and assemble a fine bouquet.”

Sasha read:

Az’s Opportunities for Development
• Current fashion
• Current politics – Ellen Hotaru
• Missed history – Ellen Hotaru
• Important literature
• Practical media – Darien Kraus
• Advances in science – Derek DeSoto
• Advances in mathematics – Derek DeSoto
• Practical technology – Darien Kraus
• Modern manners
• Modern communication
• Modern economics – John Whipple

She asked, “If Darien is covering methods of modern communication, wouldn’t your manners coach teach you how to talk like someone from this century?” She looked up into the vampire’s eyes. “Why is communication a separate category?”

“I asked John the proper usage of the term ‘yeet’ and those little colorful pictographs that appear on the electric paper of his mobile telephone. He said he ‘would put it on the list.’”

“I’ll bundle it in with our manners lessons,” Sasha said. “And I’ll help you with the wardrobe too, because this—” She gestured at his eclectic outfit “—is almost as scary as those fangs.”

Jaso laughed.

“Are you really so old?” Sasha asked. “Why did you sleep for so long? How did you wake up?”

“I am so old,” he said. “Awake, I live a lifetime or five among people. When my heart breaks, I fall asleep. Then, somehow, the steady music of beating hearts calls me, and I rise to dance the dance again.” He paused. Then he brightened. “Shall we tell Darien you have agreed to join the bouquet? He started something called a ‘group chat.’ I understand there are documents to sign.”

“I have just one more question, if you don’t mind,” Sasha said. “Then we can switch to the tedious details. Why did you fall asleep here? Las Vegas was basically nothing until the last ninety years or so.”

He smiled sadly. “My beloved wanted to be free from the conflict between Mexico and Texas. We traveled west. Guns and bayonets may be fled, but disease clings to humanity like a parasitic vine, choking the life of a mighty tree. I was alone in the Mojave. Engulfed in the desert's parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind.”