Warring Logics (Book 1 of The Institute of Fantasiological Studies)
The one where she wakes up (Chapter 8)

“Hmm?”

Awareness hits me like a brick. My head is pounding, I open my eyes. I’m in my bed, my sheets pulled up high around my neck. Am I in my dress?

I sit up and the sheets fall off of me. I’m still wearing my black dress. It feels, honestly, sweaty and gross. I run my hands through my hair which also feels gross- and knotted.

But there is at least something that feels safe about being at home in my bed. I mean, I’m not sure I want to remember exactly how I got here, but my thin white sheets with my fluffy yellow and orange comforter I got on sale make everything feel normal. The moving box that currently acts as a nightstand is still covered in books and my clean laundry is still crumped up in a basket in the corner.

“I’d glad you’re awake”

“Shit!” I jump causing the cheap wooden frame of my bed to screech in protest when I land. Fuck, I’m glad I didn’t break it.

A deep laugh makes my eyes focus on the dark figure sitting on the desk chair in the corner of my small room.

Ugh, creepy man in my bedroom- great.

Mr. Creepy moves out of the shadow and walks towards me, the light from my window now illuminating his face. I lean back on the bed away from him. He just smiles at my action and I see the telltale fangs pop out.

I stand corrected- creepy vampire in my bedroom. Accounting is looking increasingly like a good career option.

The vampire has straight brown hair and pale green eyes that seem to zero in on his surroundings. He is wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt and one of those skinny black ties that seemed so fashionable a couple of years ago. The whole outfit looks so well pressed, I would normally assume he went home to change after he brought me home except that there is a dark stain that I can only assume is blood near the right breast.

He walks right next to the bed.

“Here”

He sets a glass of some pink liquid on my nightstand.

“What is that?”

“Just something to help you recover. Blood loss can give you a nasty headache”

I lean over the bed and pick up the glass and sniff it, “I hope there isn’t any blood in here”

Mr. Creepy just looks at me quizzically as though he doesn’t understand my sense of humor, “it’s a strawberry smoothie”

“I know”

“Then why did you-?”

“Nevermind” I take a sip. Ugh, while it tastes like a strawberry smoothie, its texture is chalky, “gross, what’s in this thing?”

“A mixture of vitamins and minerals that will-“

“Okay, I get the picture” I wave away his talking. I remember Mr. Creepy now; he was the man sitting next to von Graf and me at the party. This reminds me of something else I don’t really want to think about while I have a raging headache and a stranger in my bedroom. “So, uh, how did I get here? And more importantly, how did you get here?”

“I brought you home after you passed out. Your address was on your residence permit in your wallet”

“Lovely, thanks,” I say somewhat sarcastically. I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the effort it must have been to see to my safety, but damn it’s all kinds of unsettling that I am alone with him in my bedroom. But something occurs to me, “I get how you got my address, but how did you get into my apartment?”

“Easy. You had your keys in your purse”

I purse my lips. I wish I could think of something else to accuse him of because his presence is so unsettling.

He sits down on my bed causing it to shift and I sit back further on the bed.

“How many interviews do you have to do?”

“How do you know about that?” I ask suspiciously. I’m not usually the suspicious type but this guy is freaking me out.

“Von Graf asked me to set up the interviews for you”

“Oh” I feel a stab of disappointment; I thought von Graf was going to introduce me. Maybe he is avoiding me after-? Nah, he probably got his taste of my blood and has moved on to other pastures.

His smile widens “Disappointed?” I get the sense that he’s teasing me.

I don’t like that.

“No, I-” I spit out defensively before thinking through it, “…I’m thrilled that

“Sure” Of course he doesn’t believe me, “So how many do you need?”

I try to think through the hazy fog of my sore head and I place a palm on my forehead as though it will help, “Um… maybe ten? I would like a few blood bunnies too”

He nods, “That can be arranged. I think they prefer the term vampirites though”

“Hmmm” I hum in agreement. When is this guy leaving so I can sleep off this headache?

“Will you be interviewing other covens?”

“Of course”

“Which ones?”

“I can’t tell you that” I move to the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over the edge and my feet sinking into my fluffy area rug. I love waking up and sinking my feet into the cozy rug rather than the wooden floor. It will be getting cold soon and with it, my floors will be freezing in the morning.

Mr. Creepy frowns, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. And why not?”

“Because I protect the anonymity of my interviewees,” I say as I use my hands to push off the bed.