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He hesitated, seeming to give the question genuine consideration. “Well… yes. To be fair, I’ve had advantages that normal people do not. I’ve had over a century to earn and save money, gain skills, and accrue resources. I bought cheap stock in the wake of the Great Depression–including IBM–and have been able to reap those dividends for decades longer than most people ever do. I bought this house in 1943, when housing prices were not nearly so outrageous, paid in full, and I’ve lived in it ever since p>
Chloe frowned. “Don’t you pay taxes on all of that? Won’t the IRS pick up on the fact that someone born in the 1800s is still earning money and owning property p>
“They might, if the house and all the stock was still owned in my
name. As governments became more centralized and
record–keeping more rigorous, vampires recognized the need for subterfuge when it came to our legal identities and the paper trails
involved. The Council here in Chicago p>
“I assume we’re not talking about the city council p>
Amos smiled. “Not the one mortals know about. This is a council by
and for vampires. It operates several different equity groups and
shell corporations, through which things like homeownership and
property taxes and personal savings accounts can be managed
without arousing suspicions as to the longevity of the owners p>
“So the Council owns your home p>
“No, I own my home. As far as the mortal government is concerned, yes, a corporation controlled by the Council holds the deed. But we
have our own internal system of property laws. We even have our
own taxes. In our system, I am the sole owner of my home, my
business, my financial accounts and stocks p>
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Chloe tried to wrap her mind around the idea of an entire economy,
an entire government, operating parallel to and in tandem with the
economies and governments of the mortal world. Vampire
councilors. Vampire tax attorneys. Vampire accountants. And here
Chloe was, sitting next to a vampire software developer.
“You look overwhelmed,” Amos observed cautiously.
“No, I’m fine.” Chloe waved away his concern. “I asked. I’m just
taking it in.” She glanced down at the iced mocha she’d never
opened and set it back on the coffee table.
Amos tracked her movement, his expression closed. “I suppose you
need to leave p>
“Hm?” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “No. I don’t have to be at
work for another hour and a half. But if you have things to do, I can
get out of…” She trailed off as the warmth came back into Amos’s
expression.
“No,” he said. “Stay p>
So she did. To her disappointment, Amos didn’t try to kiss her again. There was a new tension between them, not unpleasant, but constantly there. A simmering, buzzing, awareness. Chloe was tempted to just grab Amos and lay one on him. But she resisted. He wanted to court her, and Chloe suspected a 150–year–old vampire’s idea of courtship was a little slower than modern dating norms.
So, instead, she followed Amos as he showed her around his house. The only single–family greystones Chloe had been in before were the kind that had either been converted into businesses or museums.
Her social circle didn’t include people with that kind of money.
Except now it did.
In addition to the sitting room, the lower level included the kitchen, a formal dining room, a cozier breakfast room, a living room with
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comfier furniture than the sitting room, a bathroom with a marble floor, and some sort of wood–paneled den–slash–library situation
that made Chloe feel like she ought to be smoking a cigar and
complaining about FDR.
“All of the windows have been treated with a transparent UV filter.
Sunlight will still burn me through them, but not as badly.” Amos explained as he led her through the rooms. “Though I’m generally
not up and about during daylight hours p>
“So guarding me was a special case?” Chloe teased.
Amos’s expression was utterly serious. “Yes p>
Up a set of stairs with a heavy, art–nouveau style wooden banister.
the second floor held another sitting room, two bathrooms, and five
bedrooms. Three of the rooms had been dedicated to Amos’s
business, including one room whose two desks were crowded with large computer monitors, while a bank of computer towers hummed against one wall. Two of the bedrooms functioned as guest rooms. though Amos admitted they weren’t often used.
The last room, at the very end of the hall, was Amos’s bedroom. It was pitch dark inside, except for the hallway light seeping in through the open door. The door itself was different from the others, sealing tightly to the doorframe when it was shut.
“It keeps light out,” Amos explained. “The windows are all blacked out and shuttered with light–tight steel blinds, so that even if a window were to break in a storm or from vandalism, light won’t get in. And then, as a very last resort, UV–treated blackout curtains.” He brushed one of the curtains, all heavy black velvet, pulled shut over
the windows.
His bed sat in the middle of the room, taking up most of the space. It
looked like an ordinary bed–a very nice, expensive canopy bed with heavy wooden posts and more black velvet curtains–but not anything she’d be surprised to see in a mortal’s bedroom. It was
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made up
with clean white linens and a spotless white duvet.
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Chapter 109
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.