The Vampire (THE VAMPIRE Book 1) by Sandrine Genier

lamp on a second round black lacquered table and curl up in his new oversized black microfiber chair where he could read or watch TV as he faced into the main room.
    He bought a dark grey couch in a soft fabric, and found red and black plush pillows to go with it. A plain black TV stand with several open and several glassed shelves completed his living room furniture. His new 42-inch TV would be arriving at the end of the week. He began to check out online catalogs, looking for gothic themed items he could buy or where he could at least obtain some ideas for the look he wanted to achieve. Having the freedom to shop like this was another new experience for him but he wanted to be selective.
    By Thursday morning he’d been awakened several times, much too early, by sunlight stabbing his eyes: it was definitely time to get curtains for the bedroom. He needed to consult his mom about those; it was a big project with so many windows and not something he was used to having to deal with.
    He arrived for his first meeting in the library at ten minutes to 11:00 and found Augere already there, sitting at his desk talking in French on a cell phone. He had a catalog open in front of him. Jason had not seen any sign of him since the day of his arrival.
    He hesitantly stood in the doorway, unsure if he should enter. Without eye contact and with a single gesture, Augere motioned for him to come in. Jason sat in a high back plush purple chair, which sat about seven feet from the desk, but was the closest chair in proximity to it.
    As Augere continued on the phone, Jason discreetly took the opportunity to take in details about him. This was the first real opportunity to stare at him openly since he had seen him in New Orleans, which, to Jason, didn’t really count. Now he had an even more intense interest.
    He had fretted about what to wear on his first day at work. He had decided to go with casual and simple, all black attire with a few simple wrist bands on one wrist. Augere was casually dressed as well, and that put him at ease. Augere leaned lazily back into his chair, the one Jason had already admired and had sat in, late the other night, just to try it out. It was old fashioned in style, with a full, rounded seat, a rounded back and a head rest that extended over the head. The chair appeared antique but was more modernized than it looked in that it swiveled and rolled. It was unusual and unique overall, covered in a black and silver fleur de lis patterned fabric. On the black headrest was a richly hued and detailed tapestry of a pale black-winged angelic figure holding a sword, the tip of which was pointed right at Augere’s head as he sat. The arms and the seat were softly padded and Jason found the oddly configured chair to have been quite comfortable.
    He couldn’t help taking in details of Augere’s appearance: everything about him seemed of acute interest now. Black jeans, a long sleeved purple T-shirt of a light fabric, one narrow black and silver cuff and one narrow braided leather band on one wrist. He enjoyed listening to Augere’s perfectly spoken French. Jason had studied French for several years in high school, taking several more courses in college, but he still didn’t speak it as well as he would have liked. He could get a sense now of what was being said: Augere had ordered, or was trying to order, several books and or DVDs, apparently from the catalog he was holding.
    Who was this stranger really, who had offered him this opportunity? They were pretty much the same age though he guessed Augere might be even younger. They probably had, or should have, some interests in common. He was quite pale but did not appear to be ill. His arms were thin but clearly had muscular definition. His long dark hair fell thick and full over his cheek as he looked down at the catalog he now held in his lap. Jason had just barely glimpsed the vibrant eyes—which were now looking up at him. Jason quickly glanced away, embarrassed that