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the kiss, but the other part of her — the non-tingling one — knew that she was supposed to be working and therefore needed to act like a professional.
    “How old are you?” Cella asked, sitting on the edge of the large wooden desk.
    “I’m nineteen plus one, so technically I’m thirty-one.”  Wiccans had what was referred to as “long life,” which meant that they aged one body year for every twelve years that passed following age eighteen.  “You?”
    “I was turned at age twenty-three, three hundred years ago by Mishka.”
    “You’ve been in his coven the whole time?”
    She nodded.  Cella was beautiful.  Blonde haired, blue-eyed, and curvy.  She looked as though she could have been a model.  And judging from the time that they had spent together that evening, Arissa knew they would be good friends.
    Arissa had known that her main job would be as the receptionist for the coven during their working hours, which were from sunset to an hour before sunrise.  The offices, and the club, were open seven days a week.
    Cella showed her how to work the phone system, schedule appointments, and order supplies.  Arissa practiced transferring a few calls and then hung up the phone, smiling.
    “What’s so funny?” Cella asked.
    “I’m a vampire secretary. Or, I guess, a secretary to vampires.  Sounds like the title for a romance novel.”
    Cella grinned, her fangs flashing.  “I supposed it does.  As you get used to things, Mishka will increase your responsibilities with the coven, but the most important thing you can do is help to keep everyone safe.”
    “I haven’t met any of the mates yet.”
    “Vampires are very protective of their mates, especially after the attacks.  The mates usually work with their vampires and keep out of the more public areas of the club.  No non-mates are allowed in the chambers except for someone brought ‘under the fang’.”
    “‘Under the fang’ is when you choose someone to feed from exclusively?”
    “Right.  It’s usually, but not always, a pre-cursor to a mating.”
    Arissa let that roll around in her head for a moment.  Cella chuckled.  “What you and Brone have isn’t usual.  You’re beloveds.”
    “He said that earlier.  I thought it was just a term of endearment.”
    “Beloveds share an instant bond.  It’s like love at first sight but on steroids.  In the old days, he probably would have just slung you over his shoulder and taken you to his chamber, but Mishka has rules.”
    Arissa liked the idea of being slung over his shoulder.  Cella returned to her own office, and Arissa found herself at the reception desk alone, save for the two guards standing just outside the glass doors.  The next two hours passed quickly as she answered the phone and took messages.  Her heart raced in anticipation of talking to Brone when the offices closed for the night.
    Mishka came out to the front desk just minutes before her shift was over.  “How were things tonight?  Are you overwhelmed?”
    “Not at all.”
    He paused and the weight of his golden eyes settled on her.  She held his gaze, curious at the intensity.  After a long moment, he cleared his throat and said, “I understand that you put a protection spell on the club.”
    “A ward, yes.”
    “Thank you.”  He inclined his head in a bow and then swept out the glass doors and disappeared down the hall toward the club.  She felt Brone come into the room.  She hadn’t heard him, but she could feel him.  Turning quickly, she stood and moved into his embrace, letting out a sigh.  “That’s better.”
    “Much.”
    They stood in silence for just a minute and then he said, “Sunset is in an hour.  It’s time to talk.”
    He took her hand, entwined their fingers, and walked out of the office with her and down the hallway toward the elevator.  Her heart began to hammer in her chest as excitement raced through her.  The doors opened and they stepped into the elevator.  Brone released