The Utterly Uninteresting and Unadventurous Tales of Fred, the Vampire Accountant by Drew Hayes

tailored by master craftsmen. Jewelry adorned them in ways that seemed just a touch elaborate on men, and each moved with an oddly fluid grace and supreme confidence. In one glance, I knew they owned this room, this building, and everything their eyes surveyed. These were leaders, men who would have been kings in another time and place. As they sat down across from us, folding themselves into the high-backed leather chairs, I finally tore my gaze from them and looked at the other man who had entered the room.
    He looked . . . different. This man stood at least a foot taller than the dracolings, and likely a hundred or so pounds heavier. His broad frame was clothed by a short-sleeved plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. A baseball cap hid his hair, but a pair of surprisingly kind eyes peered out from its brim. His bulk was primarily muscle, though a gut did betray that at least some of his lifestyle was unhealthy. He gave a big grin and a small wave to Krystal, then took a seat a few spaces apart from the dracolings.
    “Pleasant evening, Enforcer Jenkins,” said the middle dracoling, an older man with jet black hair.
    “Pleasant evening, Lord Ackers,” Krystal said. She seemed composed, but colder than normal. Krystal always seemed to have a devil-may-care attitude about her, trusting her skill and smarts to see her through any trouble that life could dish out. That was absent now; in its place were careful eyes and conservative body language. It was a very peculiar shift, and one that made me realize how much I preferred the everyday version of her.
    “Before we begin our discussion on Mr. Emerson’s debt to you, I would like to request permission to speak with you on a matter pertaining to the meeting itself,” Krystal said.
    The black-haired dracoling, Lord Ackers I suppose, leaned back in his chair a moment and appeared to genuinely consider it. It seemed like a simple request to me, but I noticed the other dracolings looking at him anxiously. It was beginning to dawn on me that Krystal hadn’t elaborated when she talked about how serious tradition and honor was when talking to these people.
    “I will permit your request, on the condition that we may address each other informally,” Lord Ackers said. “We have met together many times, and I see no reason why we should not be able to be familiar with one another.”
    Krystal hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I agree, Morgan. You and I have had dealings before.”
    “Excellent, Krystal. I prefer engendering comfort with those I work with regularly,” Morgan said. Funny thing though, Krystal didn’t seem more comfortable now that they were using first names. If anything, I was picking up more signs of stress from her body. I hoped that dracolings sight, hearing, and smell weren’t on par with my own.
    “Now, what would you like to speak of?” Morgan asked her.
    “I would like to formally request that my two attendants be sent back to the hotel room,” Krystal said. “They are not affiliated with the Agency, and as such do not have clearance to be present at this meeting.”
    “Why not? The one wearing false glasses is a vampire, and the one wearing a T-shirt is a zombie. Both of them are parahumans and therefore are allowed to know of others of their kind,” Morgan said. It was a bit creepy that he knew what Albert and I both were, and even that my glasses were fake. I didn’t need to still wear them after I was turned, but I had been donning a pair of frames since my childhood. My face didn’t feel right without them.
    “What you speak is true. However, this meeting involves the financial status of another person and his arrangement with you. Those are things that are considered private and those not involved would not be privy to such information,” Krystal countered.
    “Yes, but the privacy control is all on our end,” Morgan said with a small grin. “If I have no objection to their presence, then there is no legal need for them to vacate the