2. Terms and Conditions

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's the only available time," the woman at the other end of the line said. "The other parties must be present for the reading of the will, and the gentleman is from out-of-town."

"Very well," Alexis said. "Where would he like to meet?"

"Preferably there at the house, ma'am."

"I don't think that's wise," Alexis said. "Isn't there-"

"They will require access to the home regardless," the woman said. "So if you cannot open the home, another time will need to be set. You will be required to vacate the premises until the reading of the will is complete."

Angry, Alexis sat rigid for a few minutes. "Very well," she said, short and precise. "Tomorrow, nine pm." She put the phone down, angry but as controlled as ever. Wretched woman, she thought.

The next day, she went to work. She had never missed a day, and hadn't since Mormor died. But she found it hard to work and even harder to focus. What possible 'parties' could their be? There was only Alexis. Leon might have been left something, but Alexis knew that Mormor had left the majority to her.

That evening, she paced the house until eight fifty, when the doorbell finally rang. She opened it and invited the officious looking attorney inside. Then she gaped in astonishment. Behind him, leaning casually against her front porch support, was the same vampire they had encountered on the road.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he drawled at her, clearly amused by her reaction.

"No," she said. "Why would I?"

He shrugged and walked past her. "I thought you wanted to hear your grandmother's will."

"You can't come in here!" she looked at the attorney. "Can he?"

"I'm afraid he can, ma'am. Please, sit down."

She perched on the edge of the sofa, as far away from the sprawled vampire as she could get. The attorney droned on at them for a while, before putting his pen down and pushing a paper toward them. The vampire sat up and reached for the pen. Alexis grabbed it before he reached it.

"Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. Mormor has left him the Swedish artifacts. All of them. Unconditionally after two years. A total stranger. And she has made him executor of her estate over me? And if I can't convince him that I am offering a sincere apology within two years, then I get only the library, and everything else must be sold and split with him?"

"Your grasp of English is incredible," the vampire said. "One would almost think you speak it. Natively."

"He's a vampire. He's dead. He can't inherit," Alexis pointed out.

Said vampire grinned, his fangs snapping out. "Vampire Rights Amendment," he told her, leaning forward. "Just think, even after I eat you, you'll still have the right to open your saucy little mouth."

The attorney interrupted. "Please sign so that I can go."

"I'm not agreeing to this!" Alexis told him, pushing the paper back at him.

"It just says I read it to you and you understand it," the odious little man said, pushing paper and pen back at her.

"But I don't understand. How could she do this to me? I cared for her for over ten years, most of it alone! No one else even helped us. And she sold me to a vampire?"

"Just sign the paper so the man can leave. He's missing Spongebob," Eric told her with a smirk.

"House, actually," the man said.

Alexis picked up the document and read it. It said what he claimed it did. Simply that he had read her the terms of the agreement. She signed it, feeling as if she were giving up her entire life.

"Can't we just sell it now?" she asked.

"Talk to the Estate Executor," the attorney said, picking up the paper and quickly handing them each a copy before trotting out the door with great haste.

Alexis took a deep breath and fought to calm herself. She couldn't believe that Mormor had done this to her. She felt her life slipping out of control, and hoped that her heart racing terror wouldn't make the vampire turn on her.

"Relax," he said, making her jump. "You're like a little wind up toy that got cranked too many times."

He stood up and towered over her so high that she jumped up, just to feel a little less intimidated. It didn't work.

"So, why don't you show me these 'priceless Swedish heirlooms' of mine, hmm?"

She didn't look at him. She'd heard that they had to look in your eyes to glamor you, and she was fearful. No one knew he was here except that attorney, and she knew he would never say anything. He had run off and left her there with him.

No one else would even notice she had been eaten except her boss, who would just be irritated that she hadn't given two weeks' notice and trained the new person. Swallowing hard, she turned toward the artifact room.

"They're down here," she said.

She led the way, uncomfortable at the sound of him walking behind her. Did the person taste better, the more scared they were, she wondered? Was he playing with her like a cat with a mouse?

"In here," she gestured.

He started to walk past her before stopping. He was so close that she could smell him. He smelled like soap, laundry detergent, and an indefinable male scent that teased her senses.

"You could try apologizing. If it seems sincere, I can give you your house back."

She shrank away from him, the nightmares about her sister all coming back.

His fangs snapped out. "Apologize, Alexis. It's not hard. Just say you're sorry for acting like a bigot."

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Try looking at me when you say it. Or should I say, stop staring at my chest and look in my eyes when you say it."

She shook her head. "You're going to glamor me and kill me," she said softly. "I'm not going to make it easier for you."

He snorted. "I don't want you any more than human men want you, Alexis. You're more dead than I am." He dropped his arm from the door frame beside her and wandered into the room.

As he wandered, he stopped suddenly. She walked over to look around him. It was the wooden box.

"That was one of her favorite pieces. They think it was used to hold tobacco or maybe-"

"It was used to hold the flints for starting the fire or lighting the candles," he cut her off.

"You had one like it?" she asked. "It's beautiful work. They've tried to reproduce it, but it was made by a master craftsman. Such work can't be done even by a machine. Only a truly talented-"

"He was a master craftsman. He was also the King," he interrupted her. He picked the box up and ran his hands over it. "He was my father."

"So you're a dead prince, then? Does that mean you're going to change your name to a symbol and..." She looked away when he turned a glare on her. "Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry about your dad," she said finally. Did a person still miss his dad after a thousand years? Or a vampire, anyway?

"You don't get out much, do you." It was a dry observation.

"You're my first vampire," she told him. "Anyway, your stuff's all in here. Good night."

"Don't you want my contact information since I now control everything you're standing in?" he asked.

She sighed. "No. In two years, everything will be sold either way. I'm not sorry that I know the truth about you and your kind, so I'm never going to be able to convince you that I am. My own grandmother threw me under the bus. I'll have to thank her for it when I get to hell with her."

"So I'll call you, then," he said, turning back to looking at the artifacts in the room.

She couldn't get away fast enough. Though, she realized, part of that was because she was embarrassed. She hadn't meant to make jokes right after he discussed his dead father. Who knew how vampires felt about their lives.

Though why she should care was beyond her. Who knew, maybe it was even him who killed Haley. She went to her room and waited for the alarm to tell her that he had gone. Finally, she fell asleep, hoping the locked door to her bedroom would hold him off if he got hungry.