The Vampire Has Joined the Co-op

How it begins

Victor Hale had owned three castles and never once attended a meeting about bins.

The housing cooperative considered this a gap in his education.

Nadia Ward placed a printed agenda before him and moved the biscuit plate out of the line of his very expensive sleeve.

'We rotate responsibilities,' she said.

'I can pay someone.'

'You can contribute to the fund. You still take a turn.'

Victor studied the list. Cleaning. Gardening. Meeting notes. The tasks were small enough to be offensive and specific enough to be difficult.

He had sold his last castle because the roof required a fortune and the portraits had become tiresome company. The cooperative offered a private room, a shared kitchen and nobody expected to call him lord. He had found the last feature attractive until it happened consistently.

Nadia finished a night shift at seven and came to the meeting with damp hair and the calm intolerance of a nurse who had already explained necessary things to tired people.

'Any access requirements we should record?' she asked.

'Daylight is inconvenient.'

'We'll avoid assigning outdoor work at noon. Anything else?'

He looked up. She had not asked for proof, a dramatic origin story or an apology. He nearly offered to endow a library.

Instead he said, 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.'

The words settled between them. Victor felt the old instinct to turn a kindness into a bond, something durable, something that could survive the person who offered it.

Nadia tapped the agenda.

'One more rule. Favors don't buy votes.'

He withdrew his hand from the donation envelope in his pocket.

Outside, a resident struggled through the gate carrying compost. Victor stood to help.

'Good,' Nadia said. 'Then come back. We haven't agreed where the bins go.'

For the first time in three centuries, he carried something heavy without being certain whether it made him powerful, useful or merely a neighbor. He suspected the distinction might prove expensive.