The hunter wasn’t what Kersi expected.  He wasn’t short, but he didn’t tower over the room like she pictured.  He wasn’t wearing a heavy trenchcoat or thick leather gloves or layers of weapon-laden belts and holsters.  He wasn’t carrying a massive crossbow or even a comically large cowboy hat.

No, the vampire hunter that walked into the room was mundane.  He wore a white long sleeved Carhartt shirt, blue jeans, and work boots.  He wasn’t missing an eye, and his face wasn’t riddled with war scars.  He even looked younger than she’d expected, possibly rivaling her twenty-two years, and his messy blond curls made him seem even more boyish.  The only part of the hunter that tracked with Kersi’s expectations was the glint at his neck.  The silver cross pendant peeking from his collar was much smaller than the one she imagined, like it was an actual piece of jewelry instead a part of his arsenal.

He looked so normal.

Kersi hated it.

Entering the room with him was the reason Kersi was here: Vasilis Drakos, a centuries old vampire who’d thrust himself into the spotlight when the existence of monsters became publicly acknowledged around a year ago.  He looked deceptively young, even shorter and thinner than the hunter, though his impeccable grooming and manner of dress projected a professionalism that betrayed his true nature.

Between Vasilis’s black and purple suit and Kersi’s dark skirt and blouse, the hunter was way underdressed.  There were even dirt stains on his jeans–did he even care?

“Ms. James,” Vasilis greeted, smiling as he approached the chair Kersi had been waiting in for the better part of twenty minutes, “I’m excited to introduce you to my good friend Aleister Grey.  I have full confidence that the pair of you could take on the world together.”

“Nice to meet you,” Grey said, offering a hand.  He looked bored.

Kersi knew immediately that this wasn't going to work out.  This was a pivotal time in human history–how could he be so disinterested?

“Kersi James,” she said, standing and shaking his hand.  She didn’t even flinch at how cold it was, instead writing it off as just another thing she disliked about him.

Vasilis clapped his hands, pleased.  “Excellent!” he said.  “Here’s to the beginning of a long and fruitful partnership.”

Kersi smiled too.  I seriously doubt it.

.

“There will still be a caramel apple stand and a pie vendor,” Kersi said, gesturing to the heavily marked map on the table between them, “but if we combine them here,” she pointed, “then we can use this space,” she tapped the spot with her eraser, “for a blood vendor stall.”

“No.”  The hunter had been quiet for the past twenty minutes as she explained her plans, so the sudden rejection was unexpected.

“Excuse me?” was all she could think to say.

“It’s a bad idea,” the hunter said.  “I disapprove.”

Kersi’s brow furrowed.  “If it’s about the logistics, I’ve already talked to the vendor about maintaining the temperature–”

“It’s because you’ve already talked to the vendor,” the hunter said.  This was the most he’d spoken all day, and Kersi felt her patience draining with each word out of his mouth.  “You said they were planning on using transparent containers for the Fall Festival–I’m telling you that’s a terrible idea.”

For the first time today, Kersi was glad Vasilis left them alone together.  “The transparent cups are about normalizing those who are different from us,” she said slowly.  “It’s about humanity accepting people with different dietary needs, something that’s way overdue.”

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He actually scoffed at the words ‘dietary needs–’  “That’s stupid,” he said.  “If you really want the stall,” he continued, “don’t use that awful sign.”  He gestured to the sketch she’d scribbled with BLOOD in bold red letters.  “Make it subtle, use smaller, opaque cups, and have them also sell things other than blood.”  He paused, then added as an afterthought, “Opaque straws, too.  We don’t want anyone to see what it really is.”

Don’t lash out don’t lash out don’t lash out  “You mean have the vampires attending the event keep hiding themselves,” she said.  “Like they have been for hundreds of years?”

“Everyone knows that vampires are going to be there,” the hunter argued.  “Don’t need to make a spectacle of it.”

“You mean you don’t want humans to have to think about it,” she accused.  “This will go so much quicker if you just say it.”

“Excuse me?” the hunter said.  His aloof, distant expression fell to one of disdain–fuckin’ finally!  “What about you?  Why don’t you just say it?”  He raised an eyebrow, accusing.  “You’ve been on a razor’s edge this entire time–what’s the real reason you can’t look at me?  Why you’ve been gripping that pen like you want to stab me with it.”

Fuck. this.  “What I don’t get,” Kersi said, standing, “is why Vasilis would pick someone like you as an advisor for human-vampire relations.”  Now she did look the hunter in the eyes, unafraid of showing her true emotions.  “You’re just another asshole looking down on people who are different from us–you’re not just a roadblock to progress, you’re a relic that will drag us back to the Middle Ages if society gives you an inch.”  Kersi thought back to all the vampires she’d befriended and counseled back on campus, the stories she’d been told about hunters throughout the centuries and into the present day.  That grief, that fear–they were both real.

“And what makes less sense,” Kersi continued, “is why someone like you would accept the position in the first place.  Unless,” she glared down at him, “you were going to use it to keep the ‘monsters’ in their place.  Can’t have the non-humans getting too comfortable, right?  Did I hit the mark?”

The hunter didn’t rise to the challenge.  He just stared back at her from his seat.  “Whatever you think of me,” he said finally, “I’m staying.  Vasilis asked me to help him, and I’m going to do that.”  The hunter looked her up and down.  “Regardless of whatever some…college girl has to say about me.”

College girl…!  Kersi’s mouth twitched.  “You know what,” she said, “this was a bad idea.”  She started to gather her things.

“Agreed.”

True to his word, the hunter didn’t get up from the spot.  It pissed her off, that he’d stoop to abusing his position like that.  She reminded herself this wasn’t a retreat–she wasn’t backing down.

If the hunter wouldn’t bow out, that was fine.  Neither would she.

Kersi had to talk to Vasilis.

.

“You wanted to speak with me?”

Kersi was sitting on the sofa in her apartment with her phone up to her ear, refreshed from her post-run shower.  The workout cooled her off enough that she was sure she could make it through this conversation without an outburst.

"I want to know about the guy you have working with me," she said.  "Grey."

Vasilis laughed on the other end.  "Are you two fighting already?" he asked, amused.  "That didn't take long."

Kersi's mouth twitched.  "You knew this would happen."

"I suspected you might struggle to play nice," he confirmed.  "Sorry, the thought of it was too entertaining to pass up by forewarning you."

So this was just a joke, then.  "That's fine," she said.  "I just want to know who my real partner is."

Vasilis paused.  "Ah," he began, hesitating, "well–Aleister is your real partner.  I understand it may be difficult, but both of your perspectives are invaluable to what I hope to accomplish in this town."

"But–he hates vampires," she blurted.  That didn't compute with the word 'invaluable' coming from the most influential vampire on the east coast.

"Mm, that may be true," Vasilis said.  "But even so."  

"Why?" 

"Ms. James," Vasilis began, "you're a smart young woman.  You tell me: would it make any sense to ask two humans to give me advice on human-vampire relations?"

Kersi's brain ground to a halt.  There it was: the piece to the puzzle she didn't know she'd been missing.  Suddenly, everything clicked.

Shit.