Work is a vampire. It sucks the energy right out of you, blood and all. And I was in its thrall. I checked my watch with the black leather band and lightly scratched crystal. I had money stashed away for a Grand Seiko when the time came. For now I looked up at the clock in the cloakroom to make sure I didn’t miss a single beat of this symphony I was about to conduct.

Count would be here tonight and everything had to be nailed up tight when he arrived. If he arrived. He never rose before dusk, always preferring his satin sheets and three interchangeable girlfriends to schedules and timelines. He got his work done though. The Libertine would be nothing without him. A legacy-leaning magazine like that needed an icon at the helm. And he was certainly one of those. What was a missed appearance or two or a late arrival if you had that much mystique? Hell, I think it added to it.

I checked the hooks on the wall, each an outline of a heart-shaped key, ready for members to hand off to one of our Cupids to enter the club. Oh, they loved to brandish those keys. Having a pretty young thing in a Cupid costume snatch the key with a fetching smile and place it on the hook, before turning on her tottering gold heels and walking just-so to show off the flouncy little pink or red or white skirt and satin bottoms beneath. It was hard not to feel something when they led you to a table. Then you could think smugly about every schmuck back at the office without a key and how much they were missing. And how good that felt.

“Ready, Mr. Harker?” I heard a chirpy voice behind me, unmistakable, and smiled when I saw Lucy’s name tag gleam in gold on her red bustier. It matched the golden curls lying softly on her shoulders.

“You bet, honey. Even if he doesn’t show up, I know you’ll show our members a good time. Isn’t that right, Luce?” I leaned with my elbow on the bar and winked.

“I’m very determined, sir. And I’m sure he’ll show.” She tried to straighten the wings on her uniform and then turned with her back to me. “Tie me up?”

I tipped my head toward the Cupid Keeper who rushed out to scold Lucy for asking me. She tugged and pulled at the ribbons attaching the wings to Lucy’s shoulders and muttered in her ear while leading her to the bar at the back of the club. Lucy would see that for what it was—a reprimand that might cost her tips. That’ll teach her to flirt with her boss. I smirked and checked my watch again, smoothed my hands along my gray pinstripe wool suit jacket, and sighed. Just a few minutes more before I walked out to welcome our members.

The Libertine Club was tucked away in a quiet area of the city where celebrities of every kind could slip in unnoticed. Sure we had our headliners, musicians and comedians, we saved the magicians for the less prestigious clubs, but the focus was always on Count. Would he arrive? When? Who would he sit with? Their guesses were as good as mine.

My freshly shined black shoes clacked on the tile in the lobby, a mosaic with a C and a D in oversized script, and squeaked when I stopped at the double doors. I took a deep breath.

Just then a warm hand slipped through my elbow. “He’ll come. I’m sure of it.” There she was. My Mina. Dressed in a white minidress dotted with red hearts as she always was. Midnight hair done up with a few loose curls escaping. I looked left and right, grabbed her waist, pulled her in for a fierce but brief kiss, and laughed when she frantically tried to wipe her cherry-red lipstick from my mouth. “Honestly, Jonathan!”

It was then that I felt it—the minute hand clicking into place on the twelve. Yes, I really felt it. Then I stepped forward to welcome our first members.

The rest was a whirlwind. Greeting. Seating. Matching the right Cupid with the right member. Keeping an eye out for roaming hands, we were an upscale venue after all. I made sure drinks were filled, smiles were inviting, laughs were genuine, and the hum of a Saturday night was exactly in tune. I had worked my fingers to the bone for this place, leaving Harker & Harker shortly after I passed the bar exam. Once I met Count I knew there was no going back to estate planning with my father. Count told me he could spot hunger from a thousand yards, and I was certainly hungry for a position with a bit more prestige, a little spark to it, and no ceiling to the income I could earn or the position I could elevate myself to.

I also asked no questions and revealed no secrets. I wasn’t even sure I knew many. If I happened to glance the wrong way, saw Count take liberties with Cupids and the books alike, I remembered to forget. One day I might be his right hand and discretion was a valuable commodity in this line of work.

Table 7 was quiet but the best kind of quiet. The young man with slicked back blonde hair and a suit tailored to strangling had landed a new role, one crafted just for him. Agents and managers and fans were all over him outside of The Libertine Club. Here he could sip his Manhattan in peace. Delivered regularly and gracefully by Mina. When she turned from her little dip to set a new drink in front of him—damn he was drinking his weight in whiskey tonight—I saw the hint of a private smile meant for me.

Everyone assumed these girls were libertines themselves, but Mina was demure enough she blushed the first time I had her in my Jaguar and my hand strayed from the gear shifter. Ok, it wasn’t a Jaguar. It was a Chrysler. But she blushed just the same. The ring I had on layaway held more promise for me than any of these keys did. I knew that. She knew that. And we all made a show so the members didn’t. None of the girls were allowed to wear rings. We liked to keep up the fantasy.

At the very moment I shook my head and hid an amused smirk, I heard the whispers build and build until I could feel him arrive. I rushed to straighten my narrow lapels and reach the doors before Count did. I breathed out a puff of air before I nodded Lucy over and opened the door to the night.

Count arrived in an almost liquid looking black suit. I spied a crushed velvet waistcoat cinched tight like the rest of his suit behind the gold signet button of his jacket. They were all embossed with C.D. His cufflinks were too. And the lighter he never had to use because someone always had a light ready for him.

Count looked damned good if you asked me. No amount of time spent noticing women could keep me from noticing that. Trim Van Dyke beard, ink-black hair swept back and styled like a sculpture, skin surreal in its near-golden sheen, trim body, a touch shorter than the rest of us in suits that night, and coal black eyes I swore looked blood red in the streetlight just then. Hunger. That’s what I saw. And hungry he was.

Even though he had two girlfriends on one arm and one on the other, he still looked voraciously at Lucy. I had pulled her from the back because I knew she was his favorite Cupid. She straightened her posture, smiled until her dimples showed, and was about to greet him before I glared at her. He spoke first. Always.

“Mr. Harker, up to no good while I’ve been away?” Count stepped toward me and extended his hand. I shook it firmly, but the warmth of mine did nothing to heat the chill of his. It’s something you had to get used to working for him. “I hope so.” He laughed and it was in that dark velvet register I usually heard from the crooner at Table 3. That was a good reminder to ask the band to pretend an impromptu performance of Count’s favorite song. Something about angels and devils and selling your soul for a night in paradise. Can’t remember the name, but they’d know.

“Always, sir. And always a pleasure to see you. Lucy here can be your Cupid tonight. A generous flirt with the legs to match. I think you’ll enjoy yourselves.” I tipped my chin toward Count, and Lucy bounced his way. I swear she acts more like a bunny than a Cupid. But in this club, she wears the wings we give her, giggles on cue, and walks like a lady. I’d have to mention the bounce to the Cupid Keeper.

“It’s a real pleasure! Or an honor? Or…” Lucy bit her lip. “I’m just very excited.”

Count looked at her like a hawk locked onto a baby bird, ready to devour. “Is that so?” Then the side of his mouth tipped up devilishly and he strode forward.

Once within the doors, Lucy slipped off his overcoat with the black fur collar and handed it to Quincey in the cloakroom in one smooth motion. She placed it on a gold hanger reserved especially for him. Quincey was known for blushing in normal circumstances. I swear she might burst into flames at the sight of Count. I stood between them and guided his entourage forward.

Lucy reached a burgundy leather semicircular booth and gestured with an open hand for first one girlfriend, then two, then Count himself to take a seat. It was all nods and brief acknowledgments by everyone in the club, a touch of fealty to the lord of the manor. Lucy perched beside the seated guests and smiled with relief when Mina arrived with a brandy old-fashioned in a custom Carpathian crystal lowball glass. Count had it imported in rectangular wooden crates straight from Romania. Along with his favorite brandy that looked claret-red in the light of the dim brass table lamps on either side of the booth.

“Count, this is Mina. You won’t find a more charming Cupid eager to please in the room tonight.” I floated my hand on the dip of her back, never touching, because I knew better than to show any kind of ownership here. It all belonged to Count, me and the Cupids included, and we served at his pleasure.

Count took a deep drag from the Turkish cigarette that had appeared out of nowhere, lit and burning bright like a stake on fire. He hummed around the smoke that curled from his lips in two sharp points that dissipated in the haze of the club. “Come, Mina. You’re wearing an intoxicating perfume. Bring your friend Lucy. Her scent is beguiling as well.” His voice was a low growl, but an inviting one. So inviting Mina and Lucy waited for Count’s three girlfriends to make room so they could sit on either side of him. Cupids weren’t normally allowed to sit, only perch and pose, but of course all Cupid rules were decided by Count, so nothing was forbidden here.

I nodded over to the band to play Count’s favorite. Almost on silent cue, the singer stepped forward, clutched the mic on its stand, leaned in with a sly grin at a Cupid, and began his set. His appearance alone earned a round of applause. Now the symphony was up to tempo and the room grew louder with laughter, slaps on backs, applause. To my left and right not a man in this room talked business, exactly as Count liked it. The night was going well.

I turned and pulled away the full ashtray in the middle of the table, handed it off to a Cupid who appeared with a new one, I didn’t even have to look at her, and placed the fresh one in front of Count. Just as he was tapping his cigarette on the rim and ash fell like snow.

“Anything else I can get you, sir?” I spoke quietly but certainly. Count hated anything sudden or hesitant—unless it was the laugh bubbling from Mina at a joke I’m sure wasn’t funny. But she pulled off sincerity well. So well Count slipped his arm around her shoulders. He waved me off. I spun on my heel to keep the night going. I didn’t look back, didn’t need to. Tonight Mina was his. Tomorrow she’d be mine. I couldn’t afford to be greedy. I lived for this job, took pride in it, and I wasn’t about to risk it with jealousy.

Behind me I heard Lucy laugh as well and pictured Count sniffing up the length of her neck like a cat savoring a mouse before the final bite. Something about that vision gave me a shudder I shrugged off on my way toward the young blonde actor who seemed to now want attention.

I kept my hand at my side and snapped my fingers discretely at a new Cupid who had acting experience. She knew better than to bring up her own career, but her knowledge would prove useful. Her shapely form twisted its way toward his table. By the craving look on the actor’s face I could see we needed to slow up on the drinks, water them down a bit. I should keep an eye on that Cupid with black textured hair in two puffs tied with pink ribbon that matched her corset.

I could ignore Mina and Lucy because what Count wanted to do with them was none of my business. But every other Cupid was my responsibility. I was in no mood to replace a pretty thing this early in her career. She would have a career too. The perfect shape for a pictorial in the next Libertine. I rubbed my jaw just thinking about it, cracked my neck once to release the pressure, and reached the cloakroom once again.

“Going well, Quincey?” The room was full so I knew her job had hit a lull.

She trailed a long finger over the keys on the wall, making a light tinkling sound as it went. “It’s all full tonight, Mr. Harker.” A smile lit up her face and caused a pink flush to spread beneath her freckles.

“I like the sound of that.” I pinched her cheek. “Certainly not in Texas anymore, are you?”

Quincy’s eyes widened. “Of course not! It’s all so glamorous. I was wondering…” Her voice trailed off.

“Soon. Once there’s an opening for a new Cupid we can discuss it.” I knew she was too young now, but she might really be a good fit down the line. “Listen, honey. Can you go in the office and grab my wallet? I need to give our bandleader a raise.” I laughed when she scooted around me and rushed upstairs. Damn the music sounded good tonight. I snapped my fingers to the beat until I heard a choking sound above me.

Before Quincey could scream like I knew she would, I ran up the stairs, two at a time, and clapped my hand over her mouth. She was shaking and pointed to the open door in front of her, then pointed toward Count’s booth. I glanced that way, and it was empty. I whispered in her ear, “Calm down. Take the rest of the night off. Don’t say a word to anyone. Got it?” I waited until she nodded to take my hand away from her mouth. I didn’t even see her disappear.

One step. Two steps. Three. There I was at the threshold of my darkened office. A few lamps were scattered around and turned on. Enough light that I could make out what was happening on my velvet couch that so worried Quincy. There was Count sitting upright in the middle, legs slightly spread, feet planted firmly on the floor. On his lap was Lucy who looked like she fainted, draped over him like that. But no. No one fainted with their eyes open. My glance drifted from her eyes to her neck to a throat in tatters like a fistful of red ribbons. Upward still, Count was smiling at me, mouth open and viscous maroon dribbling from his lips.

I clutched the lacquered edge of the door frame. When I stumbled, I saw Mina there on the floor, a gash on her neck seeping black cherry red all over the carpet. Her eyes were closed, but I knew. I just knew. Scattered around, one by one, Count’s latest girlfriends lay strewn and slack. Fake eyelashes no longer fluttering, painted lips no longer pursing.

“Come join me, Jonathan. I’ve made my way through these bottles. Shall we order more?” Count tipped his head back and laughed. Lucy twitched once on his lap then settled.

My hand clutched into a fist in my pocket and the other released from the door. Once I composed myself, I clapped them together. My voice was tight but composed. “I’ll leave you to it, sir. Would you like our coat check girl back or perhaps Demi behind the bar?”

Count pushed Lucy to the ground in a heap with his forearm. I flinched at the soft thud she made. “Ah. Demeter. She looks quite… satisfying. Yes, do send her up.” He swiped one hand on the couch cushion and left five rust-colored streaks on the fabric.

My eyes drifted back to Mina, my Mina. It wasn’t only her throat that had been torn to shreds. A gaping hole in her chest showed just how hungry Count had been that night. I held my gasp, the anger that rushed through my blood like a fiery arrow, and nodded once at Count. Poor Mina was now a Cupid without a heart.

“Certainly. I’ll send her up with a fresh old fashioned. Neat?” I was finally able to take a clearing breath. Count grinned and I turned on my heels to find Demi and a clean lowball glass. I slowly closed the heavy oak door painted in slick black. My hand slid from the brass doorknob and returned to my side. I straightened my tie, smoothed my hands over my hair, and pulled my cuffs down so the gold Libertine-branded cufflinks would show.

If work was a vampire, I guess this was just another day at the office.