Page 54 of Only Fangs

“Mr Hele is expecting you,” the doorman says to us and motions towards a lift at the back of the lobby area. It’s one of those old style ones, with an ornate metal cage and a sense of dread that you might actually die if you get inside it.

“I don’t like this,” I tell Ari as we step inside and it sways slightly with our weight. I know I’m meant to be a big tough guy but I’m practically shitting myself as the deathtrap elevator lowers us into the bowels of the building and towards the vampire king I’m about to meet.

“You’ll be fine,” Ari tells me and her hand touches mine for a moment. “We can do this.”

I can hear the lie in her voice though. Even if I put aside the gothic nightmare of the situation, we aren’t ready for this meeting. We stayed up until gone three this morning trying to prepare, polishing the pitch and practicing the answers to any question we could think of that might be thrown at us, but there are still huge swathes we’re going to have to bluff our way through. Ari stifles a yawn as the lift comes to a halt.

I have no idea how many floors down we are, but the air is significantly colder and there’s an almost earthy scent in the air. I feel like I’m in a crypt and pull my jacket more tightly across my chest.

“Don’t do that,” Ari tells me and slaps my arm. “You don’t mind the cold, remember.”

Oh yes. I’d forgotten I also need to pretend I’m a vampire at this meeting. I swallow audibly and prepare to either make an absolute fool of myself or actively piss off the most powerful vampire in the country. Or, you know, both.

A man appears and I know instantly this must be Andrei. He’s a complete cliché. His skin is so pale it’s basically translucent, his hair jet black and slicked back into a low pony tail tied with a thin black ribbon. He’s wearing a black suit, and there’s even a little bit of a skirt to the jacket. Around his neck is a pewter coloured chunky cross. Matt said a lot of the older vampires wear them as a total “fuck you” to all the church going zealots who tried to bury their kind in previous centuries. The idea that the sign of the cross would keep you safe from a hungry vampire is utter bullshit – unless you happen to have one blessed by the pope and the ability to turn it into a bullet – and this was a way of them sticking their middle finger up at the humans they preyed on.

Personally it feels a little provocative, and my human ancestors did have kind of a point when they disliked the vampires who snacked on their children. Apparently my great-great-grandfather had been a slayer, but my family doesn’t talk about it anymore, not since Matt’s condition became apparent.

“Miss Haywood, Arianna.” He kisses her on both cheeks. “It is a pleasure to see you. It’s been far too long. You really shouldn’t be such a stranger. You know you can always treat Hele House like your own.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ari says softly, with a level of deference I’ve never heard from her. I’m not sure I like it. It doesn’t fit with the strong independent woman I’ve come to know over the last few weeks. “And thank you so much for fitting us in today. This is Brody.” She motions at me. As instructed I’ve stayed slightly behind her, out of range of a handshake. The warmth of my skin would give the game away immediately. “He’s the coder.”

Andrei looks me up and down and then discounts me instantly as being of zero interest to him. I try to tamp down the feeling of irritation over being dismissed so obviously – after all, it’s probably a blessing in disguise given the deception I’m trying to pull off here – but I hate how vampire culture is built on elitism. I’m obviously not from the same class as him and he doesn’t care about showing his disdain.

“Unfortunately I can only give you ten minutes,” Andrei says. “I don’t really have the time but you know I can never resist doing a favour for my darling daughter, or her oldest friend.” He turns with a somewhat dramatic sweep, as if he has an invisible cloak around his shoulders. I think he’s performing, but I’m not sure who for. Or perhaps he’s got so used to playing the cartoon vampire villain it’s become ingrained in his very persona.

I can feel my heart hammering in my chest as we follow Andrei to his office. The air gets even cooler and the smell of damp earth intensifies. I want to put my hand in front of my nose and mouth to block the stench but I manage to control myself. This whole part of the office must have been dug from the ground and no one thought to weather proof it properly.

Andrei pushes open a heavy dark wooden door and motions us both inside. It’s warmer in here, the embers of a fire glowing in the grate behind the huge mahogany desk. Lamps with green glass shades cast a thin light into the space, punctuated with brighter spots from a handful of guttering candles. A battered leather sofa faces the desk, flanked by two large wingback chairs in a faded burgundy check print. In the corner of the room is a dresser atop which are a series of crystal decanters full of what must be whisky, or maybe brandy. Towering bookcases stuffed with ancient looking tomes in various dull shades complete the look of the quintessential gothic study: the home of an old lawyer perhaps, or a professor. But on the desk is a sleek monitor complete with ergonomic keyboard and mouse. It looks incongruous, out of place and out of time, like a visitor from the future brought a gift.

“Right then. Take a seat and tell me about this genius idea of yours.”

I can only assume that “genius idea” is how Clara pitched it to him as he doesn’t sound at all convinced.

I can feel the tension rolling off Ari as she takes a deep breath. “So, we have an idea for a dating app. A way of allowing vampires to find other people from our kind.” She falters as Andrei reaches out towards a stack of papers next to the futuristic keyboard and begins to obviously read one in front of us.

She takes another breath. “It’s called Only Fangs,” she says, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her words. But it isn’t enough to get Andrei to look up from the paper he’s reading. “So we have a plan for a fairly basic interface, at least at first, with the primary… uh… US…”

“P,” I mouth at her as she turns to face me with a stricken look.

“Uh… USP,” she tries to recover her composure. “That’s the unique selling point, the thing that will make Only Fangs really stand out against the competition.”

“I know what a USP is, thank you.” He finally looks up from the piece of paper he has previously been so fascinated by, but he sounds bored, like this is all a total waste of his time. “And you really think you can make money from such an app?” he asks Ari.

“Absolutely. I… err… we believe the market is there and this is a service people would be prepared to… err… pay for.”

“Do you have a financial projection?”

“Umm…” Ari glances at me and I hand over the folder of information we pulled together.

Andrei doesn’t even acknowledge me as he takes it. “A projection of membership growth? Cost of acquisition calculations? An estimate of the time it will talk to turn a profit?” He looks expectant.

“It’s all in there.” I say.

He makes a half nod, which I suppose is all the acknowledgment I’m getting. “And what about a concrete plan to ensure you have enough male and female vampires to create suitable matches?”

“Right,” Ari says. “So, we’d market it to vampires via events, the clubs, online with Reddit, all the places where single vampires might hang out. Or those in, you know, less traditional relationships.” She’s gabbling a little and I reach out my hand to touch her arm gently.

“I don’t think we should be promoting non-traditional unions,” Andrei says.