My ten-year high-school reunion was in two days. Despite my life being in constant peril in the ten weeks since I'd been turned into a vampire, things had cooled off enough that I felt that I didn't want to miss it. It was to be my last gasp as a normal person before I finally, grudgingly, accepted my new life as a vampire. And yes, life as a vampire.

Vampires being the walking dead was just another unfortunate rumor, like me being a weapon of mass destruction.

The rumor currently going around was that I was the "Slayer of Slayers." Sheesh. You kill one vampire hunter in self-defense—an act that had now grown in legend to twelve hunters and counting that I'd taken down with my well-manicured, but lethal hands—and a girl gets a reputation.

I hated to admit it, but I think that's one of the reasons Heather's boyfriend, Josh, had agreed to meet me for an interview at this crazy hour of the night. He was impressed by my rep. Hey, if it helped to get me a cool new job, I would milk it for all it was worth.

Thierry frowned at me. "Of course you should have something new to wear. Why didn't you say anything to me earlier?" He slid his hand into the front pocket of his black suit jacket, pulled out a money clip, and proceeded to peel off a few bills. "How much do you need? Will a thousand be sufficient?"

"Uh… yeah, that should just about do it." My mouth began to water at the sight of the money, but after a moment I forced myself to hold back the drool. "Wait, no. No, Thierry, please. I don't want to take any more of your money."

"What do you mean?"

Ninety percent of my body reached out to that roll of money, but 10 percent was holding me back. That 10 percent was surprisingly strong. "Look, I feel like I've sponged off you for over two months. Now I have this opportunity to interview with Heather's boyfriend so I can make my own money. You shouldn't have to be there with a handout whenever I get sick of what I'm wearing."