Chapter Text
Emily mostly had control over herself and her desires. Aside from the occasional snide comment, she kept her anger to herself. She’d never slept with a co-worker, and that was saying a lot considering she worked with mainly attractive young women. She worked hard, even once times got tough.
The only part of her she had no control over was her hunger. Not for food but for that bitter tangy taste of human blood.
It was a rather big nuisance having to deal with all her day to day stresses, as well as balancing her vampirism on the side. It wasn’t like it was her choice, but it still became a problem many times more than she’d like to admit.
But she needed her job. She loved fashion and it was the main thing keeping her going. When you live a life immortal, you need to have a large goal in mind. Most vampires aimed for world domination or to have a harem of hundreds of women. But not for Emily. Her desire belonged with her love for style.
Because of her care, she’d made sure to never attack any of her co-workers. And she’d stuck to that. Despite the beauty of some of them, they didn’t have too strong of an aroma of blood she craved so deeply. And she was happy for it to stay that way.
Until Andrea Sachs came along.
Emily had been stood by the front desk of the Runway reception, awaiting the girl she was supposed to be interviewing for the position of second assistant.
She’d smelled her before she even saw her step into the building. Every human's blood had its own unique scent. Some were richer and earthy, others carried the strong smell of iron. This girl smelled sweet. A sweetness buried beneath layers of copper and metal. Emily wanted to wince from the sweetness this girl she hadn’t even seen was emitting.
Then she stepped in.
She wasn't fat but she was by no means a model, in Emily's opinion. She wore frumpy clothes and had a nervous yet self assured look on her face, despite how much she stuck out like a sore thumb in this environment.
She wore a hideous mismatch of clothes Emily didn’t even want to begin to analyse and her hair was groomed into a halfhearted style.
But her blood! It pumped viscously throughout her veins, almost intoxicatingly. A sweet smell Emily could barely control herself over. She covered her mouth discreetly, hoping to conceal her fangs which had suddenly made themselves known, retracting in excitement.
Behind all the sweetness in her scent, the hot blood swirled around inside her, into her hips, around her arms, up her shoulders.
In her neck.
Emily looked away.
“Hi, I have an appointment with…” the girl said as she glanced at the small slip of paper she'd been holding. “Emily Charlton?”
What? This girl was here for her? For the second assistant position?
Emily stepped forward, making herself known. She looked at the girl with a shocked and rather annoyed face.
“Andrea Sachs?”
Andrea smiled in conformation. “Yes?”
“Great,” Emily bit out with a forced smile. While forced, it wasn’t concealing her obvious dislike. That made Andrea frown. Only slightly. “Human Resources certainly has an odd sense of humour. Follow me.”
She turned quickly, barely waiting for Andrea to follow along.
“Okay, so... I was Miranda’s second assistant,” Emily explained as she walked along the brightly lit corridors. “But her first assistant recently got promoted so now I’m the first…”
She paid little to no attention to what Andrea was doing behind her, but she could hear the faint movements of her turning her head around, catching glimpses of passing offices.
“Oh, and you’re replacing yourself?” She asked.
Emily scoffed. “I’m trying. Miranda sacked the last two girls after only a few weeks. We need to find someone who can survive here. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Of course,” Andrea said, nodding along as they continued onward. “Who’s Miranda?”
Emily wanted to tear her hair out. This stupid new assistant didn’t even know the very devil she was working for. She sighed, quickly explaining to the girl before they reached her office.
“I’d love to be considered,” Andrea had finally said once they stopped.
Emily let out a small mocking chuckle.
“Andrea, Runway is a fashion magazine,” she said. “An interest in fashion is crucial.”
“What makes you think I’m not interested in fashion?” Andrea asked.
Emily gave her a once over. Usually that silenced girls but Andrea gave her a look of indifference and a little naivety.
Then her Blackberry rang and the devil was at her doorstep once more.
For some odd reason Miranda had decided to interview Andrea herself. Emily couldn’t begin to understand why. Of all the girls she’d brought along this one was the least promising. And despite her intoxicating smell, Andrea was just a pile of nothing. The door to Miranda’s office had shut but Emily listened anyway. Another one of her more beneficial vampiric traits.
“So you don’t read Runway?” She heard Miranda ask her.
“No.”
Off to a bad start.
“And before today, you had never heard of me?” Miranda pressed.
“No.”
Emily wanted to scoff. Was that all this brat could say?
“And you have no style or sense of fashion…”
And this girl had the audacity to interrupt her. “I mean… that depends on—.”
“No, no. That wasn’t a question.”
There was a long drawn out silence that stretched between the two women. Emily smirked to herself, assuming this badly dressed girl had simply given up already. She turned her attention back to her computer and started typing again. Then Andrea spoke once more.
“I was Editor in Chief of the Daily Northwestern. I won a national competition for college journalists with a series on the janitor’s union—.”
“That’s all.”
That certainly ended the conversation. Emily was then shaken out of her state of nosiness when Nigel made himself known.
“Is Miranda in there with someone?” He asked.
Emily scoffed. “The fat girl from before. Though it sounds like Miranda’s finished the interview now.”
Nigel paused, listening in too. “Guess my human hearing will forever be a trait I get from my mother. With her fashion sense of course.”
Emily however wasn’t listening. She listened intently to Andrea giving her big speech to Miranda. No one ever defied Miranda. Maybe Nigel, but they were already close and he always had his half vampire bloodline to protect himself from her. Not that she knew about it. Only Emily knew of his true nature.
“Emily!” Nigel snapped again, pulling her out of her trance once more.
She flinched.
He gestured to her mouth quickly before walking into Miranda’s office, followed by a defeated looking Andrea who glanced meekly at Emily before rushing out the building.
Emily felt her lips to see what Nigel was talking about. Sure enough her fangs had retracted once more.
“Shit.”
“Emily!” Miranda called.
Emily rose to her feet instantly, holding her hand against her lips, making her way to Miranda’s office in a matter of seconds. “Yes, Miranda?”
“Go find the fat girl and tell her she got the job,” Miranda said.
“The girl from…?” Emily found herself stuttering over her words. “But she—.”
“That’s all.”
And the decision was solidified.
She sighed to herself and pushed herself out her seat, rushing down to the reception, taking a moment to conceal her fangs. Her vision was sharp and instantly pulled Andrea out from the crowd.
“Andrea!” Emily called.
Andrea looked back, a little surprise. She caught Emily’s eye. Emily rolled her eyes in disbelief as crooked two fingers towards herself, beckoning her over
Andrea rushed over.
“For some miracle, Miranda has decided to hire you,” Emily stated with a look of no enthusiasm at all.
Andrea on the other hand couldn’t be happier. Emily could tell, both from her expression and body language, and from the increased heart rate and temperature of her blood. She wanted to reach over and bite into this stupid girl’s neck.
“We don’t have a set schedule of hours,” Emily quickly explained, wanting this interaction to be over with. “When Miranda needs us, she needs us. There’s no room for arguments. You’ll need your phone on you at all times.” She took out a sheet of paper, scribbling down her number, before she passed it to Andrea. “Add me to your phone as soon as you’re home. You officially start tomorrow but there’s no telling how early you’ll be needed.”
With that she turned and left.
Thankfully there was one thing both humans and vampires could do. Get wasted on drinks. Emily sat across from Serena who was sipping elegantly on her pornstar martini. They frequented here a lot with each other. Emily enjoyed the company and Serena liked the drinks.
The two had a stable dynamic. Certainly more so than anyone else Emily works with. Most avoided Emily like the plague due to her cold nature and scowling glares. Serena on the other hand was drawn to it.
But Emily didn't care what people thought of her. She wouldn't know them for long. If anything it's better she has no connections. After already losing so many people with immortality, connections become useless.
That's why her and Serena work so well. They enjoy their time together but at the end of the day, Emily minds her own business and Serena does the same.
“Whats with the new assistant?” Serena finally asked with a quirked brow. “Heard she caused quite a scene.”
“I can't even talk about her,” Emily sighed, running her long fingers through her hair. “She knows nothing about fashion. She’s fat. I don't know what possessed Miranda to hire her.”
“Is she smart?”
Emily scoffed. “She studied journalism.”
Serena nodded along, taking another long sip.
“She's not going to last even a week,” Emily chuckled, more to herself if anyone. “Once the adrenaline has died down she'll just burn out and quit.”
At least that’s what Emily hoped. With her horrible combination of bad clothes and a sensual smell of blood, Emily wouldn’t be able to compose herself around her. If Emily had a heart of her own, she guessed it would’ve started bearing rapidly at the mere thought of the girl. The only tell she was getting flustered was her constantly shifting her legs.
It appeared Serena had noticed that and taken it as a hint.
“Hey, wanna go back to mine tonight?” She suggested innocently, but from her tone Emily could tell exactly what she was truly saying.
Emily’s eyes darkened. Serena was always a great distraction.
It was pretty much over within a few hours. That was their routine. Drinks, Serena’s house, more drinks, sex, home.
She pulled the straps of her bra over her shoulder, groaning to herself at the thought of work tomorrow as Serena stayed tucked away in bed, already snoring softly, enjoying the concept of getting into work later than Emily.
Emily watched the sleeping blonde in wonder. She crept forward and tilted her head, staring from the edge of the bed. Her hand found its way up to Serena’s body. Her neck. Emily halted. This wasn’t a thought she usually had. It wasn’t part of her well crafted routine. Yet for some reason the sight of Serena sleeping made Emily crave it.
Maybe if she did it. Just once. Gave into her vampiric desires. Then she’d remember stories she’d heard from Nigel. Stories of vampires who drank straight from humans then became quickly addicted, the lust for blood eventually driving them into insanity.
Emily pulled away, hating herself for considering the thought. She left the apartment and made her way to her apartment.
The darkness of her own home welcomed her. Compared to the sterile lights of Runway, and the fake plants of Serena’s house, the darkness welcomed her like an envelope to a love letter.
Emily sighed, opening her fridge door. The light flickered dimly, showcasing her lack of food in the fridge. All she had was a top shelf full of blood bags. She hissed to herself, counting only enough to last her a few more months. Usually she stockpiled for a whole year. She made a quick note to herself to request a shipment from her supplier.
Modern day vampires didn’t drink blood. Well, aside from the criminals or those partaking in bdsm clubs. Due to cameras, DNA and a much more populated world, vampires simply couldn’t hunt anymore, unless they wanted to put themselves at risk of being caught.
So blood banks were the next best thing. Vampires weren’t known to the public so stolen inventory from blood banks were the next best thing. She had hers sourced from a well known vampire supplier in New York. While she didn’t have an immediate connection to the supplier, Nigel did, so she always just put her order through him.
Since Nigel was only a half vampire on his father’s side, he could still eat some amounts of food with his blood. Sadly Emily could not relate, with her family all being vampires as far as she could remember.
Taking the half empty bag, she poured it into a glass and sat down in her robe in front of the tv. The blood was fine. From some donor she didn’t know, who would probably be horrified to hear what it was being used for.
Emily couldn’t help but imagine of what biting into a real person would be like. What biting into Andrea would be like. She stilled, letting out a disgruntled sigh of disgust. She ran her fingers through her ginger locks, grumbling to herself. She didn’t understand why this girl had made such an imprint in her brain. Why she suddenly was so desperate for blood.
Finally having had enough she necked the rest of her glass and turned in for the night, ready to train the sweet smelling brat tomorrow.
Andy woke up to the sound of ringing. The sheets ruffled as she stirred awake. She picked up her phone and answered with a drowsy, “Hello?”
Her tiredness was soon clashed with a slightly snobbish, very stressed British accent.
“Miranda decided to kill the Autumn Jacket story for September — she’s pulling up the Sedona shoot from October,” the girl who was originally meant to interview her, spoke through the phone, sounding very busy. Her name was Emily, Andy remembered. “You need to go into the office right this second. Pick up her coffee order on the way. Write this down.”
“Now?” Andy asked, still half asleep.
Emily had already started listing the order.
Andy sighed, pulling herself out of bed, careful not to wake her still sleeping boyfriend. She rushed her morning shower, quickly dressed herself and headed out the door. She glanced down at her scribbled note for the order, only having half the information on it.
Taking the order and everything else Emily had asked for, Andy scurried to the office for her first official day.
She stepped into the elevator, puffing out a breath of air to move a strand of hair out from her face.
The man from yesterday walked into the elevator. He instantly recognised her.
“No…” he breathed out.
“Yes,” Andy smiled. “She gave me the job.”
The man sighed then chuckled a little, flashing her a small smile. “Clearly my opinion means nothing.” He extended a hand. “Nigel Kipling. Fashion Director. Let’s see what we’re working with.” He took a look at her outfit, giving her a once over that carried a more artistic view, compared to Emily’s from yesterday. “Wow. It’s like Oklahoma and New Jersey had a baby out of wedlock.”
“Actually, I’m from Cincinnati,” she said.
The elevator pinged and she stepped out.
“Well, I wish you luck,” he said. “Welcome to the dollhouse, Baby.”
She stepped into the bullpen and quickly noticed Emily standing beside another woman. She was pretty, much like Emily and tall. They were muttering to each other in hushed voices before Emily spotted Andy.
“I hope you know this is a very difficult job for which you are totally wrong and if you mess up my head is on the chopping block,” Emily started speaking as soon as Andy was within reach of her.
She grabbed the coffees, bringing them to Miranda’s office, before walking back to Andy who was waiting at Emily’s desk. She went to place her bag down before Emily grabbed her by the shoulders, guiding her away.
“Okay, no,” she ordered. “That’s my desk.” She walked her to the opposite desk and Andy tried to not stumble over herself. Her hands were cold on her shoulders, almost frozen as if she had no life stored under her skin.
She placed Andy down with a harsh thud and Andy swore she heard her breath hitch for a second at the contact. Maybe she was just imagining things.
“Okay, first of all, you and I answer the phones. The phone must be answered every single time it rings,” Emily explained, rushing around with other various tasks. “Phones roll to voicemail, she gets very upset. If I’m not here, you are chained to this desk.”
“Well, what if I need to…?” Andy started.
“What?!” Emily huffed, already seemingly sick of her. “No. One time an assistant left the desk because she sliced her hand open with a letter opener. Miranda missed Lagerfeld right before he boarded a 17 hour flight to Australia. She now works at TV Guide.”
“Man the desk at all times,” Andy finally concluded with a nod. “Got it.”
As if on cue the phone started ringing. Andrea looked on nervously at it as Emily rushed over, answering it herself.
“Miranda Priestly’s office. She’s not available,” she spoke into the phone with a rehearsed confidence. “Who is…? I’ll tell her you called. Yet again.” She turned her attention back to Andy who’d been muttering to herself, trying to memorise her lines for the phone.
“Remember, you and I have totally different jobs,” Emily said with a small scoff. “You run errands, you get coffee, etcetera. I am in charge of her schedule, her expenses, her appointments. And, most importantly…” She grinned to herself excitedly. “I get to go with her to Paris for Fashion Week in the fall. I get to wear couture, go to all the shows, all the parties, meet all the designers. It’s divine.” She sighed dreamily before being ripped out her state as quickly as she fell in. “Okay, stay here. I’m going to the art department to give them the Book.”
“The Book?” Andy questioned.
Emily placed a thick scrap book down on Andy’s desk, flicking through the pages. “The Book is a mock-up of everything in the current issue,” she explained. “We deliver it to Miranda’s apartment every night and she returns it — don’t touch it — she returns it in the morning with her notes. The second assistant is supposed to do it, but Miranda is very private and doesn’t like strangers going to her house. So until she decides you’re not a psycho, I get the lovely task of waiting around for the Book.”
With that Emily pivoted and walked off just as the phone started ringing.
Emily looked around unsure. “Wait. What do I—?”
“Deal with it!”
She nervously picked up the phone, somehow messing up in each possible way. She cursed to herself after the client hung up.
Nigel then made himself known by walking up to her, holding out a pair of Dolce slingbacks.
“I guessed an eight and a half?” He asked. She didn’t know the designer. She didn’t know what style of shoes they were. She barely knew her own size.
“Uhh that’s very nice of you but I don’t think I need these,” Andy tried resisting. “Miranda hired me. She knows what I look like.”
“Do you?” Nigel retorted.
She sighed, placing the shoes under her desk. Nigel went about his business before quickly remembering something. “Oh and when you see Emily, tell her there’s been a delay in her order.”
“What order?”
“She’ll know.”
Andy was about to question more when Miranda called for her. Or… for Emily, but that might as well be her new name here. Andy rushed over and listened to her order around a list of things to her, half of which she’d soon forget.
“And Emily?” Miranda finally said as Andy was about to head out.
“Yes?” Andy all but squeaked.
Miranda gave her a once over, landing a very disgusted look on her shoes. “That’s all.”
Andy very quickly slipped on the shoes Nigel gave her after that.
“Do you have Demarchelier?” Miranda called.
Andy wanted to cry already, trying to look up the name. “Uhh…” she whimpered. As if hearing her stress, Emily appeared behind her.
“Ugh, leave it,” Emily ordered, pushing past her, already on the phone. “I have Miranda Priestly calling.” She then called out. “I have Patrick!” She flipped the call to Miranda and turned to Andy who instantly listed out the demands Miranda had ordered in the span of 10 seconds.
“Oh, and she needs… skirts,” she finally said. “Calvin Klein. And there was something about a pony.”
Emily inhaled. “Did she say which skirts?”
Andy shook her head. “No.”
“Did she say what kind?”
“No.”
“Color? Shape? Fabric?” Emily tried listing.
“No. No. No,” Andy responded. “I tried to ask her, but—.”
“You never ask Miranda. Anything,” Emily hissed. “All right, I will deal with all of this and you will go to Calvin Klein.”
“Me?”
“Oh I’m sorry, do you have some prior commitment?” Emily scoffed, sitting herself back down at her computer. “Some hideous skirt convention you have to go to?” She chortled at her own joke.
Andy frowned and went to turn away before retracing her steps. “Oh, Nigel asked something too.”
Emily sighed, probably expecting more demands. “What?”
“Something about an order not arriving for a few months?” She said, trying to remember his words. “An order for you.”
Emily froze for a moment and frowned before realising her flustered state, trying to compose herself once more. “Ah. Well, that might be a problem.”
“Do I need to pick something up?”
Emily scoffed to herself again. “No no. God no, definitely not.”