I put my pen down and flex my fingers. “I’ll think it through, absolutely. I don’t have much experience with ranked vampires, but low-levelers can have massive egos. I definitely don’t want to step on any toes there. Even calling them ‘low-levelers’ is slowly becoming politically incorrect. They prefer ‘human-vampire’ or ‘of human-vampire descent.’”

“What made you decide to work with and study vampires?” Junichi is blinking at me, waiting. The answer is long and complicated, but… I shorten it.

“I’ve always been really interested in vampire biology and how your blood works differently than ours. It fascinates me.”

“Like lab rats?”

“No. Not at all. I just…” There’s a heavy, historical insinuation there that I don’t appreciate. And the truth of how my interest in vampires started is weird to explain. I’ve only ever told Cy—which I immediately regretted.

“It’s fine.” Junichi pulls his perfect lips up into a half-smirk. “You have a fascination. Lots of experience.”

I narrow my eyes. “The way you say it connotes fetish. It’s not like that. And I’m never the one who initiates. The low-levelers are always the ones up for sex. I’m not talking about my patients either, to clarify.”

Junichi shakes his head, still grinning and cool as ever. “Why does everything come back to sex with you? I didn’t even say anything.”

“You implied.”

“Did not. How are things with the pretty human dietician you went to the gala with? Are you dating her? Not that it’s any of my business. She’s lovely.”

At this, I smile. The fact that he noticed and is asking about it is fantastic. He seemed totally put off by me at the gala last week. All business. I don’t blame him, and he basically said my suit was crap. “Not dating, exactly.” I stifle my urge to grin.

“God.” Junichi scoffs in a laugh, running his long fingers up into the soft curls atop his head. “Is there anyone you aren’t just having sex with?”

“You?”

He pauses at that, and I’m suddenly feeling brazen. He’s kind of my boss, but he’s not my boss. He smells incredible and is so shrewd and suave. Ever since he held my damn chin in his fingertips and looked down at me with those black eyes, those beautiful full lips… I keep wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

My chin. That’s what’s set me off. Christ.

He leans in and against the table, resting his elbows there. His irises are focused on me like rich, shiny marbles. “I didn’t think you were interested.”

“I never said that.”

“You weren’t very receptive to my advances, Jae. Like I was something to hurry up and get over with. You act as if you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not, and I’m sorry… I explained that already.” I take a breath. How many times do I need to apologize? This is the first time he’s said my name without “Doctor” in front of it. I was “Doctor Davies” the night of the gala, which feels even more distant and like a hard boundary. He keeps staring at me. My heart is in my throat.

“I don’t know what kind of experiences you’ve had,” he says, “but I don’t do things flippantly or thoughtlessly. I don’t ‘fuck’ people. I take my time. If I’m interested in someone, I give them my undivided attention.”

I inhale another breath because my stomach is twisting in crazy knots again. I’m sitting up straight, but the way he’s leaning now, it would be easy for me to shift forward and catch his mouth. It’s silent as I watch his lips. I pull my own bottom lip into my mouth to wet it with my tongue. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I need to kiss him.

Eight

Junichi

This human doctor is licking his lips and staring at my mouth like it’s something he can eat. Something he wants to devour.

The way the sunset is reflecting off the window makes his chestnut-brown irises bright behind his glasses. His eyes are shaped like sideways raindrops under heavy, dusky and dark golden lashes. I’m tempted to pull his glasses from his face so I can get a better look at him before I take his mouth. His lips are already slightly parted for me, like an invitation.

There’s a knock on the door, and I shift my eyes toward it and sit back comfortably. “Come in, Risa.”

Jae drops his head and runs his fingers into his thick mane. He looks like he’s in pain. I share his frustration, but I do a better job of hiding it. I look up and smile warmly at Risa as she walks in. “Yes?”

“Doctor Izumi wants to know if she can sneak in a few minutes before you leave? She’s waiting for my callback.”

“Of course.” I flip my wrist up to check my watch, then look at Jae with his head still lowered in his hands. “We’re finished here?”

He looks up at me from underneath those lashes, practically glaring. “Yes,” he says, stiff but matching my polite Japanese, his face calm and professional. It’s a façade, though. Doctor Davies is not pleased. He uses both palms to push himself up from the table, grabs his notebook and pen, then nods his head in a bow before he turns to leave.

It’s for the best. I barely even know this male. For some reason, the tension between us is already running abnormally high. It’s never this complicated with humans, which is why I like them.

I tried to take it slow and talk to him first—to understand his mind and experiences as the individual he is. What makes him tick? I enjoy that part because it makes me a better lover when I finally indulge. A lot of people go for cheap thrills and quick conquests. Not me. I’ve been alive for too long, and that shallow shit does nothing for me. Making love to and being in a relationship with someone is much more satisfying when I know them, and when they’re fully unraveled, open and trusting of me. That is what gets me high.

But he wasn’t interested. Told me it was bullshit.

He’s attractive and obviously used to getting laid by lots of vampires and humans alike, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. That he quickly lumped me into the same category with every other “human-vampire” who’s tried to bang him and bite him in the past.

I know I’m being a hypocrite, but I’m a first-gen vampire. I have a fucking ego.

The next day, I’m sitting in Haruka and Nino’s kitchen, which is like a second home to me. We’re having an early lunch since I’m leaving for Europe tonight for two weeks. I usually go abroad to see clients once a quarter, but last quarter was cut short because the lovebirds were having a crisis. I came back early for moral support.

Haruka walks into the kitchen, actually dressed. For the past few weeks he’s only been wearing the casual robes I design for him. That’s fine, but it’s also a clear indicator that he’s not leaving the house.

“Hello, Jun.”

“Your grace.” I smile. I don’t need to call him that. Mostly it’s to tease him. He takes it in stride. I jokingly called him “purebred prince” once, and he didn’t like that at all.

When he sits down at the head of the table, his hair flops forward, grazing his temples and cheeks. He sighs as he rakes it all back with his fingers. When he brings his hands down again, it all rushes forward. I laugh. “Your barber won’t cut your hair, will he? You waited too long, so he wants you to grow it out to donate it again.”

He groans. “Correct. It has reached this awkward length where it is not long enough to properly pull back. However, if this is my biggest problem, I gladly accept it.”

I smile at that. “Good perspective-taking.” Haruka and Nino had a rough couple of months this spring. Awkward hair length is a welcome problem in comparison. “Nino?”

“Shower.”

“Is he having lunch with us?” Nino doesn’t have issues leaving the house. He manages aristocracy business affairs in both Kyoto and Osaka. It keeps him busy. He loves his work and is great at it. He turns struggling bars and restaurants around and makes them into success stories time after time.

Haruka yawns. “No. He has a meeting. Although we agreed that he should not work on Sundays. He assures me that this is the last one he’ll schedule.”

Sydney, their young purebred live-in, walks into the kitchen with grocery bags. He offers a cheerful greeting before shuffling around to put things away. “Good morning, Junichi!”

“Hello, Syd. How was the market?”

He stops, blinking his sage-green eyes under the mop of his sandy-brown hair. “It was wonderful. Busy! There are pears now for autumn—and persimmons. Asao taught me…” He takes a deep breath and smiles bright. The look on his face, you’d think he just described the moon and stars in the sky.

Sydney is one of the rescued purebreds from Socotra—one of the first to be accepted into our realm. He came without a mate and was pretty scrawny and emotionally withdrawn at first. Nino and Haru tried putting him in an apartment and implementing their fixed program the way they do with other refugees, but it didn’t go very well. They’d go check on him, and he’d be sitting in the dark in a corner and refusing to eat or feed.