Chapter 2: Juice Box - Hunger & Harmony

“And one final thing.”

There seems to be a lot of “final things” at this company—one last comment here, a final rundown of yet another routine there. Lorelai doesn’t seem to run out of energy, either.

Given it’s nearly one in the morning, I’m running off iced coffee flavored fumes. Still, it’s easier to keep my drooping eyes open when I remember I’m working at West Court Records. That’s hard to forget with the logo glowing neon red on the wall of this meeting room. We’ve been here for hours; the dim, warm lighting is awfully cozy for tedious work.

When my attention drifts from my work phone, the full-length windows grab it. Below, the city of Sunveil is alive. It teems with lights, cars, and activity, even on a Monday night.

Beyond the city, the ocean lies in the far distance. A waxing crescent moon gleams above, tucked between stars and wisps of clouds. I’ll be seeing more of the moon than ever before. She’ll be my beacon of promise and hope.

“Out of all the routines and rules, the number one thing to remember is compliance.”

Lorelai points her pink bunny pen at me, the little ears at the top wiggling.

“You’re the assistant. Your number one job is keeping the band happy. Doing what they need and, more importantly, what they want at any given time.” Her voice lowers. “Which means not being combative with His Majesty, okay?”

“Combative? I was just defending myself,” I say, but she shakes her head.

“Girl, do you not get it? Compliance. Com-pli-ance. It doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong.”

“What? I have to let him walk all over me?”

“All the members, yes, but especially him.” She glances me over before she says, “Are you not even scared?”

“Why would I be?”

Her jaw nearly hits the table.

“Hello? They’re vampires? Niklaus is a king?”

“And? You don’t seem scared of Ezren,” I say, to which she shakes her head.

“That’s different. Ez loves joking around, and he’s definitely not pureblood royalty.”

I flop my phone onto the table before burying my face in my hands.

“What does that even mean?”

I’m not trying to whine like a baby. An early morning, a ten-hour road trip with Viola, and the non-stop pace since I’ve arrived are all not helping.

Before she can reply, I continue.

“Vampires get blood supplied from willing donors, right? I’ve heard it’s a system that benefits both. Vampires are up all night, which is different, but that doesn’t hurt anyone. What’s there to be scared of?”

It takes a solid ten seconds of her staring at me for her to speak.

“You’re funny.”

I tilt my head.

“How—”

A phone rings. I glance down to confirm it isn’t mine. Lorelai pulls hers out before she stands.

“I need to take this.” She points at me. “Don’t wander off. I won’t be more than fifteen minutes.”

My eyes widen, but it’s too late to say anything when she’s closing the door behind her.

Stunned into silence, I stare out the window in disbelief. Fifteen minutes? There’s nowhere I could even nap for that time! Just stiff chairs and a long, cold table.

It’s not like me to be grumpy. Lorelai is just doing her job. I have to do mine.

If only I could’ve joined Viola. After dropping me off, she drove another hour southwest. I’m pretty sure the company she’s training under is located right on the beach.

Standing up, I wander to the windows. I can’t see it well, but there’s a sliver of ocean in the distance. Staring at it helps me feel closer to her.

My back pocket buzzes. Oh right. I’ve spent so much time on the work phone that I forgot my personal one. Eager to see if Viola contacted me, I pull it out to check.

Dozens of texts, six missed calls, and five voicemails stare back at me. Not a single one from her. A sigh bubbles up, and for once, I let it out.

I try not to scorn my parents. Everything they do is because they love me, right? It stings that they trust a literal music major over their own daughter, though.

Sure, they’ve never known that detail about Viola, but they’ve been able to sniff out every other connection I have to music.

Posters of the hottest heartthrobs, albums from various pop artists, and every single pair of earbuds I’ve owned have all gone in the trash. I’ve never even been allowed to have a MeTube account! Yet somehow, right when I was supposed to be studying audits and financial accounting, they couldn't sense Viola sneaking me into her university performances and parties.

While I won’t ignore them forever, at least twenty-four hours of silence would be nice.

“Ugh . . .” I groan when my phone starts buzzing.

My frown immediately flips when Viola’s name flashes on the screen instead of my mom’s.

“Lala!” I practically screech into the phone.

“Cadie.”

Fifteen hours since even hearing her voice hits me like a truck. Hot tears flood down my face.

“Wait, are you crying?” she asks, to which I sniffle pathetically. “Hey, you promised only smiles.”

“It’s hard to do that,” I admit. “Shouldn’t I be happier? I literally just got here.”

“Don’t you always say there’s nothing wrong with crying?” she asks, and I half laugh and sob.

“Because you never cry.”

“Still. Take your own advice,” she says.

Viola is the definition of tough love. She’s always been a voice of reason. It’s a good balance to my crybaby tendencies.

“You’re right, too,” she continues. “You just got there. Cut yourself some slack. You got used to campus life, right?”

I don’t want to remind her it was only because of her that I survived. While she’s always felt like a big sister I’ve grown up with, I’ve only known her for a few years.

Until I literally crashed into her life, I’d barely met anyone like her. Never a single strand of her long, chocolate hair out of place. Her flawless eyeliner drawn almost as sharply as her violet gaze. And her voice. I nearly ran away when I realized she was majoring in music. While I can’t hold a single note, she could draw a full auditorium for her humming alone.

There’s not a crumb of envy in my heart, though. I’m so lucky she’s my best friend.

“You’re right,” I say with another sniffle.

“I know.”

We share a giggle.

“Enough about me,” I say, eyes focused on the moon. “How’re you feeling? You’re about to kick off your world domination!”

Her laughter tapers off, but I can hear her smile.

“I’ve been working years for this,” she says, voice soft and steady. “My mind is at ease now that I’m finally here.”

Always her mind, not her heart. Typical Viola. My grin widens.

“Don’t forget about me when you’re queen of the pop,” I tease.

“Aren’t you the real traitor here? Miss rock band PA?”

My jaw unhinges. As I howl with laughter, I steady myself on the window.

“Hey, that's all we could manage!”

“I know, I know. It’s still so funny to me. The pop supremacist working for Arteria.”

I can’t contain a groan.

“Everyone’s kind of weird, too. Even Lo got all serious and strict!”

She snorts, which sends me into more laughter.

“King Niklaus literally called me a juice box!”

“What?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I got reprimanded, but I don’t regret calling him a jerk over it.”

Where I expect more giggling, there’s silence. I glance at the screen to make sure we’re still connected.

“Hello? Lala?”

When I hear a soft sigh, my eyes widen.

“You can’t be mad, too!” I exclaim, knowing her most measured reactions are the scariest. “Lo already told me, I get it. I need to ‘comply’ or whatever.”

“No.”

I pause. A heavier cloud blocks the moonlight.

“No?” I echo.

“That implies obedience. You just need to do your job,” she says, the typical warmth of her voice gone. “They may be vampires and even your employers, but never lose sight of your own power.”

“Power?” I snort. “What’re you talking about?”

“I . . .”

She trails off. I hold the phone tighter.

“You’ve never been a pushover. Even to your own parents. So don’t start now, okay?”

Moonlight peeks through the clouds again.

“Who said I was? I still think His Majesty is a dumb jerk, even if he is my boss. It’ll be strictly business. Don’t worry so much!”

“I’m not,” she says, and I roll my eyes.

“Okay, miss pop star.”

“Speaking of . . .I have to be up at five.”

I gasp when I check the time.

“That’s like four hours from now! Get to bed!”

It’s good to hear her laugh again.

“Okay, okay. You, too.”

“Maybe at some point,” I say before I blow kisses into the phone. “I love you, Lala! Good luck tomorrow!”

“Thank you. Same to you, Cadie. Goodnight,” she says.

My smile sticks even after the line dies. While I’d love to be closer, it’s good that she can focus on her training. She holds herself flawlessly, but I know so much hides beneath the surface. The last thing I want is to add to that.

The window is cool under my fingertips. I’m on my own path now.

I nearly jump out of my skin when the meeting room door slams open, whipping around to see why Lorelai came back so mad.

“You . . .”

“You?!”

Our simultaneous exclamation hangs between us awkwardly. Niklaus stares back at me like a kid facing a plateful of vegetables.

“Uh . . .” I shift on my shoes. “Are you looking for something, Your Majesty?”

“Niko.”

I blink.

“No formalities. Just call me Niko,” he says, and I nod in understanding.

“Okay, um . . .Are you looking for something . . .Niko?”

His hand comes up to his mouth and nose, like a physical block. I press my back against the windows. Am I imagining it, or does he think I stink? It’s been a long day, but I showered!

“Where’s Lorelai?”

“She took a call. Said she’d be back in fifteen.”

Right. I’m alone with him. Just me and the king of vampires on who knows what floor of this building. Still, I can’t muster any fear. More annoyance than anything.

Which doubles when he presses his hand over his mouth, acting as if I reek to the high heavens. I cross my arms. Does he always act this demeaning?

“I’ll let her know you were looking for her,” I say, not able to mask how badly I want him to leave.

Niko doesn’t move. He’s not quite looking at me, but he’s also not looking elsewhere.

I openly glance him over. Though he’s in the same outfit as earlier, his black linen shirt is more disheveled now. I bite my inner cheek, trying to stop myself from ogling his alabaster torso that’s even more exposed. Does he have to be so indecent? Is it vampire law to look so hot all the time?

When my eyes meet his again, not even the shadows of this room can dim them. His irises glow, the deep red from before now electric and bright.

And focused on me. His sole focus is me.

Tingles rush down my spine. He couldn’t be any further away in this room, yet I feel him. That doesn’t make sense. How could I know the way his hands mold against my hips? How his frigid skin burns against mine? How can I taste his lips with a single look?

I manage to take in a ragged breath as I rip my gaze away. Today’s exhaustion is getting to me. Why else would I be fantasizing about a man who called me a juice box?

A man who is still standing there.

“Well, if that’s everything . . .”

Heat rushes to my face, and I have to stop short to contain a low moan. He’s stone-still, and I can see that so clearly. So why do I feel his hands, his mouth, his body all over me? My senses are alert; the feeling of him is so vivid. Am I just napping at the table right now, and this is all a weird dream?

“Ah!”

My hands fly up to my neck. Heart pounding and wild-eyed, I turn my body away. No, this isn’t a dream. That’s two distinct pokes against my throat, sharp and dangerously delicious.

“Niko . . .” I breathe. “I need to wrap up.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence. I dare to look at him.

The glow of his eyes dissolves; the room is darker, and the air significantly lighter. I’m able to breathe. I continue to hold my throat.

As quickly as he appeared, he’s gone. I barely blink, and the door is already shut like he never even opened it.

Too weak to hold myself up, I sink to my knees. The clouds give way to moonlight that spills into the meeting room. One hand drops from my neck to press against my erratic heartbeat. I shiver.

That happened. I know it did. I don't know how, but if I focus on it hard enough . . .

His hands are still imprinted on my skin.