I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders. I don’t like thinking about Junichi because there’s absolutely nothing I can do about that situation. I’ve shown him all my cards. I trusted him and was completely open with him. I kissed him with everything I had and I never held back—dancing bachata with him and cooking in his house. Buying new clothes and climbing into his lap after he’d bitten himself for me. Pathetic. I’ve had four months to obsess over my behavior, and every time I think back, I cringe. I feel like a complete idiot.
When you love someone like that and put your all into it but they don’t reciprocate, that’s all there is. I’d be a fool to keep chasing after him when he doesn’t want me. I’m not doing it anymore.
I order blood from a company called Premablood. This company has been around for a long time and was created to help discourage low-level vampires from randomly feeding off and attacking humans. It’s worked well, actually. But they don’t advertise in every country. In some markets they aren’t needed because the vampire population is high and the community takes care of itself. For instance, in Japan, it isn’t necessary, and I’ve never recommended it or used it for my patients.
In England, however, this company is absolutely necessary.
They never get requests from purebreds, so they needed to mix a unique blend of synthetic blood to meet my nutritional needs. And that’s all it does—meets my basic, fundamental needs. It’s nothing like when I would feed from Junichi. Imagine getting a plastic bag of cold, congealed, factory-made gravy with no spices. It’s like that. If I warm it up, the consistency is a little better, but it still tastes like nothing.
I went to London two months ago to visit Cy. He always makes the trek out here to see me, but he finally talked me into coming into the city and going out with him. Haruka asked me to keep a low profile, and I do. But Cy kept pestering me.
Anyway, I ended up meeting a woman. Second-gen. Technically, her bloodline isn’t high enough to satisfy me. Haruka explained as much before I left Japan (which he was not pleased about). The woman and I talked at the bar, one thing led to another, and she offered herself and I tried. She tasted better than the bags, but I felt wretched the next day. Horrible stomachache and chills. It’s like my nature was irate, screaming, “Let’s not do that ever again, please!”
When I’m done with my meeting and head downstairs, Cy has the pizza on the table in the breakfast nook and a mug of warm synthetic blood is beside my plate. He thinks he needs to come out here and check on me like this, but I’m alright. I’m just working on the surrogacy program and seeing patients virtually. That’s all there is.
“How was the meeting?” Cy is standing over the sink, cleaning out the pot he used to heat my blood and looking over his shoulder. “Are all the surrogate things in order?”
I sit at the table and take hold of the cup. My teeth are starting to pulse, which is the worst. I take a quick sip of the warm, bland liquid. “Yes. I haven’t told them yet, but we’ve found a match for our test couple. However, now that the surrogate knows who she’ll be carrying for, she’s refusing payment. We’re having a small battle with her about it. We need to set a standard for how much vamps will be compensated—you know, get a sense of the typical expectation. She’s not helping.”
“Maybe this will be the typical situation?” When he’s finished at the sink, he dries his hands and comes to the breakfast nook, sitting on the bench opposite me. He grabs a slice and lifts his chin. “Eat.”
“I’m not going to simultaneously drink blood and eat pizza.” The thought turns my stomach. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to eat. As time goes on, my body and senses become sharper and more vampiric. I don’t have a strong urge to eat like before, but it’s fine. Eating got in the way, taking up time and energy. Now, I can just heat up a cup of blood and keep working.
We sit in silence, with Cy eating his slice of pizza and me staring into space and cupping my mug in my palms, occasionally bringing it to my mouth. When Cy is down to the crust, he says, “Are you at least feeling a little more excited about Italy and the wedding next month?”
“Not particularly.”
“Ah, Jae, it’s your big introduction to the aristocracy! Maybe it won’t be as awful as you’re assuming? Maybe seeing Daddy Long Legs in person will be nice?”
I lift my mug and down the last sip of blood. It’s lukewarm now. And tasteless. Sure. It will be nice to see Junichi. To pretend as if we’re just best mates—like he hasn’t ever been inside me. Looking forward to that.
Everyone who’s anyone will be at Cellina and Giovanni’s wedding next month. The two of them bonded last year, but the formal ceremony will be in Lombardy at a resort off Lake Como. I searched for images of it on the Internet and it’s like something out of a fairy tale. Somewhere I don’t belong. Haruka and Nino will also be there, of course, but they can’t babysit me, can they? So, no. I’m not looking forward to wandering around by myself, or talking to strange creatures three times my age.
My plan is to bring a nice present (what do you give as a gift to creatures who’ve been living for over a century? A new watch?), greet everyone properly, then store myself in a corner and out of the way.
“Hello?”
I blink, meeting Cy’s doe eyes. “Sorry. What?”
He shakes his head. “You’re so out of it, Jae. Has becoming a vampire changed you that much? What can I do? You rarely leave the house, you don’t eat—and you’re so serious all the time. What happened to my quirky and cheerful friend with all his cheesy jokes and weird observations? Is he in there somewhere? I miss him!”
I almost say “He died” to be funny, but it’s not funny. Lifting my hands, I rub my palms against my face and underneath my glasses, feeling the familiar burn welling up in my eyes. I’m shaking my head and I don’t know what’s come over me, but I burst into silent tears. It just takes over sometimes, all the frustration, confusion and sadness I feel.
I don’t know who I am anymore or what I’m doing. Cyrus is here and he visits me. He tries to help, I know. But it’s like I’m on autopilot every day, and I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life. I could deal with this before, when I was human. I was accustomed to it. But now, the loneliness stretches into something like infinity. Like there’s no end to it and I’m stuck.
“Ah shit—I’m sorry, mate. Dammit.” Cy stands and comes to the other side of the bench where I’m sitting. He pats and holds my shoulder, then awkwardly pulls my glasses from my face. “Why do you keep wearing these? You don’t even need them anymore. You said your vision was even better than twenty-twenty?”
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, then exhale to compose myself. I haven’t spontaneously cried like this in two weeks. I thought I was getting better. “They’re just… familiar. I’ve been wearing glasses since I was eight. I had clear lenses put in.”
Cyrus is still gripping my shoulder. “Well, I kinda get that. Like a security blanket… But it’s daft.”
“Cheers.”
“No, I mean, I think that’s the problem. You keep rebelling against this new life in all these weird, micro-aggressive ways. If you embrace this—come out to London more, drink blood from real people, stop rereading your mum’s depressing journal and get rid of these damn glasses—you’ll feel better? Live the life your mum couldn’t. You’ve been given something special, you prat. Stop pouting.”
When I talked to my father and let him know that I was a purebred vampire, he didn’t even question it. He told me to go upstairs in the attic and read my mum’s journals. That was his first reaction to my big reveal. Turns out, she knew what she was. They both did. But they didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t have a Junichi, Haruka or Nino around to sniff her out, because we lived in a country void of ranked vampires. I can’t decide if I feel better or worse after reading about her last days. But it does give me some answers.
I take another deep breath, wiping my face again. I glance over at Cyrus. “I should try. You’re right.”
He squeezes my shoulder, his lips quirking up in a grin. “Of course I am, you beautiful vampire man… God, you’re even hotter than you were before. I could kiss you.”
“Please don’t.”
Forty-One
Junichi
It’s a cool, overcast spring day as Nino and I sit in the front tearoom of the Miyoshi Clan estate. It’s doing that misty rain thing outside where it’s enough to make you wet but not enough for an umbrella without making you feel dramatic.
There’s a large window behind us, drenching the room in gray light as we sit seiza style on thick cushions, waiting for Ren and his father. They made me wait four months for this damn meeting because Ren’s parents were traveling. I stopped feeding from him during that time, though. Actually, I haven’t even seen him since November—since that day he restrained me and acted like a maniac. After Jae left, I started feeding from a first-gen I know locally: a friend of mine, so the arrangement is casual. I also started having the hospital draw my blood and send Ren bags so I don’t have to see him.
It’s been hell. I’m tired all the time and my skin is a weird color. I feed, but I never really feel satisfied in my nature. I needed to do this, though. To at least know that I’m capable, and that I’m not a slave to purebred blood. My life and decisions aren’t just driven by the need or an addiction created by my controlling father.
“Why do you keep staring at your phone?” Nino asks, glancing over at me.
“Because I tried to video-call Jae two days ago and he hasn’t responded or texted me back. He’s ignoring me more and more. I don’t like it.”
