According to Theo, Jamie had been at his search for the entire morning. I had ordered that he be brought some sustenance because I hardly wanted someone to find his desiccated corpse in the back corner of my central processing. The place was dingy enough without adding such to the decor.

Central processing was far from my favourite corner of my home, since it looked like the den of a disorganized computer shut in on the sketchy side of sanity. It was run by one of my older humans, Wyatt, but Theo was quickly becoming the star of my technological team.

Though the aesthetics offended me, I did not complain about the ugliness of the dreary little space, because I understood that they were working miracles with what little they could manage to get their hands on from scavenging and what little we could produce. It was nearly impossible to singlehandedly create the vast supply chains that had once supported the modern world.

Sadly, I was no expert at any of these matters and so much had been lost in the wars it was a lot like archeologists trying to read ancient Egyptian, except they did not have the advantage of an ancient vampire to tell them vague recollections of the era.

It really was a shame that tech manufacturing had never caught my fancy.

If I had known we were going to fight the human suppression wars, I would have had a bunker built and preserved all the knowledge my humans would need in the future to make all the things I wanted. My lack of foresight was regrettable. I had foolishly believed that things would continue on roughly as they were indefinitely.

How wrong I had been.

* * * * *

While my human worked his way through the databank archives, I busied myself with preparing for the next council meeting, since I only had about a month left to go before I would stand in front of the council of my peers and explain to them exactly why they would be utter fools unless they agreed with me.

My tasks in preparation mostly involved hearing status updates on how things were progressing, daydreaming about Davidson's and Magnus'ss future miseries and running my clever arguments past Leif or whichever one of my humans happened to be in my vicinity.

Some of them made extremely good points, others less so. I was not sure if it was because their debating skills were substandard or due to their innate subservience to me.

I considered running my proposal by Jamie mostly as an excuse to speak to him, but my bill might soften his hostility and I did not really want that. It was bad enough that I was letting him look through my database, an act that could be misconstrued as kindness or charity.

I hoped he believed I was simply messing with him again. I did not want him getting the idea that I was some soft bleeding-heart vampire. Even more so, I certainly did not want him thinking I was trying to make him relax towards me.

It did not matter how much he intrigued me, I would maintain my dignity and his future entertainment value.

Theo came and gave me regular reports. "He's just going through alphabetically, reading the entire entry before moving on to the next."

"Poor Jamie, that sounds dreadfully boring."

"He doesn't seem to mind."

"Can you tell who he's looking for?"

He shrugged. "He seems to be spending more time on dark haired male vampires than anyone else, although he seems to read through each profile carefully."

I considered Theo's words, my mind thinking through different black haired males I could recall. I had the oddest urge to try to assist him. Perhaps it would be interesting if I did so.

"Do you have your writing instruments?"

Theo brandished his ever present clipboard.

"I'm going to have you make a list for me."

* * * * *

After I was done recalling all the dark haired vampires I knew with Theo, I spent another hour going back and forth over arguments in my mind. It was much more entertaining when I would imagine arguing against Davidson, but this time that just was not realistic. I had to use a logical stand in like Magnus, or the even more unpleasant Ivan and neither of them were nearly so fun as riling the younger councillor.

It was a shame, really. Although the shakeup would all be worth it.

Even as I pondered, I could tell the sun was rising higher in the sky. I could not see it, because the experience would be terribly painful, perhaps even deadly, but I could feel the weariness of the brightening day begin to grow inside me nonetheless.

I stood up and stretched. I looked towards my guards. "I'm going to retire early today, I believe."

One quickly left the chamber to get the others, the other followed me to my bedchamber. I went inside alone and prepared myself for rest. There came an expected knock on the door.

"Enter."

"Mistress." Marcel bent his head respectfully as he entered.

I smiled at the trusted protector for my most vulnerable hours, but we did not converse further. I lay down in my comfortable bed and soon the pull of nothingness dragged me away.

* * * * *

I woke empty and cold, a feeling that had first disturbed me when I had been turned, but now felt quite normal. I opened my eyes and scanned the room, finding Marcel sitting in a chair where he had been when I had fallen asleep.

"Good day," I said to him, alerting him to my renewed consciousness.

"Good day, Mistress, how was your rest?"

"Delightful, as it always is. It chases the weariness away."

He nodded, accepting my words although he could not truly understand the sleep of the indefinite.

I got up and pulled on my dressing gown.

"You slept longer than usual," Marcel told me.

"Oh, how much longer?"

"Three quarters of an hour."

"Let's hope it's not a trend." Like the sleep of mortals, there could be some fluctuation in the hours of rest, so I was not overly concerned so long as it was an abnormality.

"Thank you, Marcel. You may leave now." With a nod of his head, Marcel left me to my own musings.

My sire had been much older when he turned me than I currently was and he had scarcely rested, to the point where he would sleep for only about an hour and he could fight off the dragging darkness for an entire day if absolutely necessary, although he became extremely ill-tempered on such occasions.

My sire's name had been Luke and even before the human suppression wars, he had been one of the oldest amongst us. He had not given me a choice and he had never properly explained why he had turned me, but I had learned to accept the lack of answers. He had been rather strange and unnerving at moments, although I learned to care for him in time. I had thought perhaps he had been lonely, but no self-respecting vampire would ever admit to such a weakness.

Despite his harm to me, he generally treated me much like a daughter and taught me everything I needed to know about my new state of existence. Although I had missed my family as vexing as they were, I found myself rather of the right temperament to persist in the world.

Truly, after the initial shock, my new existence had been rather freeing. I had been born into an age of structures and restrictions. As a young lady I had certain expectations I had been meant to fulfil, I was to be graceful and gracious and hardworking, I was to land a husband and take my proper place in society.

I had been nearly past my prime in the eyes of my world when I had been ripped away from it.

Although I now rarely thought of my family, I wondered how they would regard my life. Surely with horror and shock: horror at what I did to survive, shock at the world I inhabited. They could scarcely have imagined the wonders of what had been called modern civilization, long distance communication, media, air travel or the travesties, wars, and the final collapse of everything humanity had built.

Would they at least have been pleased that I had been married?

Unlikely, because marrying and burying ten husbands over the centuries was hardly what they had envisioned for my future.

I grieved each in their own time while I persisted untouched. I could remember each man fondly now, because the sadness long since worn away. Even then, I was used to being largely alone.

I had not bothered with the pretense of a human life since the wars, although there was a sort of nostalgia when I remembered all the lying and the subterfuge, the different characters I played to fit in amongst humanity.

The world was indeed my stage. That, at least, never changed.

* * * * *

After every rest period, I tidied my appearance, although it took little effort. There was little need to shower daily since most of my biological processes had been halted along with my mortal life. My hair and nails continued to grow, and I could cry if I ever actually felt such emotions as to cause such a reaction.

I wandered down to the kitchens, following the scent of coffee hanging in the air. My kitchen servants largely were concerned with feeding my humans, but they also ensured that my coffee was ready every afternoon when I woke up.

"Good afternoon, Mistress," Francis said as I entered. Blond and tall, he was alone in the room, but he immediately moved to serve me.

I waved him off with my hand. "I'll get my own coffee," I told him. I walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a creamer of blood. Pouring a cup of coffee and mixed in what was left in the container.

"I'm out again," I informed Francis, although it was probably unnecessary. The kitchen staff automatically saw to such matters without my input.

"I'll get you some more," he promised.

I nodded. I knew he would.

As always, the first sip was wonderful, bitter and metallic, incredibly satisfying. Instead of leaving the kitchen, however, I wandered over to the counter and leaned against it while watching Francis work chopping vegetables. He was another good looking male, although his job kept him from building the impressive sort of mass that my guards bore.

I would have had him as a guard, but sadly, he was missing the sort of personality I was looking for. Nonetheless, he did well enough at his job. I intended to have him in charge of the kitchens one day when the job opened up.

He glanced questioningly at me, but kept working.

"So, how are things lately?" I asked him.

"Very good, Mistress."

"Enough supplies?"

"Absolutely."

"That's good."

I took a long drink of my coffee. He continued chopping vegetables. I enquired about the supper menu and listened while he described it in loving detail.

"Mmm. Sounds good."

"Do you want us to send you supper tonight?"

I considered. It did sound delicious, but it was rather wasted on me. Food never lived up to my vague recollections from my human years. "You just eat a double portion for me tonight."

He chuckled.

Bringing my mug to my lips again, I looked at the plain looking vessel. "Why don't I have a mug that says 'Number one Mistress'?"

He paused his cutting and glanced at me. "Do you want one?"

I play pouted. "Not if I have to ask for it."

"Apologies, Mistress."

His eyebrows drew together with concern and his eyes widened in what might have been a bit of fear. I withheld my dramatic sigh.

"Don't worry about it, Francis. I was merely joking."

I let another glorious sip of bloody coffee slide down my throat and wondered where Jamie was right at that particular moment.