“Where there is great power, there is great responsibility.”

Haruka glances out the window at the group of vampires huddled around the grand entrance to the castle.

Asao looks back at him, his brow furrowed. “Why are you quoting Spider-Man in French?”

“Who is ‘Spider-Man’?” Haruka asks, returning his scowl.

Asao slowly shakes his head as he steps out of the car. “You need to get out more—it’s like you do this on purpose. I’m going to find Emory’s manservant to ask if they have blood bags for you. Nino is parked behind us.”

Asao shuts the door. In the muffled silence of the car, Haruka sinks a little lower into his seat. “Nino…”

The pit of Haruka’s stomach had dropped when Nino confided in him about his abuse. The emotional transparency of it caught Haruka off guard.

Verbal consent is vital in order to feed from another adult vampire. One cannot use their incisors to pierce another vampire’s skin without first receiving permission.

Vampire children are still emergent in their unique natures until they reach the age of sixteen, which is when their skin fully hardens. Prior to that, their skin is soft and they are not capable of giving formal consent. Any adult committing this forbidden, gruesome act does so forcefully and purely for selfish, perverse gain.

Nino comes across as charming, kind and optimistic. Haruka would never have guessed that something so cruel and dark lies hidden within the complex fabric of his being. The thought of a young, bright Nino experiencing such abuse makes Haruka’s chest ache.

There is a tap on the glass beside Haruka’s head and he jumps, startled. When he looks, Nino is staring back at him with his bright eyes the color of amber stone. He’s wearing a stylish olive-green parka well suited for his tall frame—the color perfectly offsetting his creamy, honeyed skin tone. He smiles openly with his natural ease and affection as he pulls the door from the outside, gesturing for Haruka to step out of the car.

“You’re not having second thoughts about this, are you?” Nino asks. “Because if you are, I’ll drive the getaway car.”

“They literally have the sex scheduled and written on a piece of paper.” Nino points, leaning into Haruka’s side as they stand together in the midst of old wealth and opulence.

Haruka’s body tenses from his woodsy, cinnamon scent and nearness. “Yes, I see that,” he says, distracted.

“I can’t imagine how much it cost to rent this entire castle out for the weekend. I looked this place up online and it’s not even supposed to be open to the public this time of year.”

“Vampire owned,” Haruka says simply. Within the modern framework of their ancient culture, exceptions are often made for vampires, by vampires. Several years ago, when he’d been living in Paris, Haruka had attended a centennial celebration at the Louvre for a purebred turning four hundred. The event was private and had begun at midnight.

“Hm, that makes sense,” Nino says. “Do you think it’ll take you an hour and a half to read through the contract?”

“That is not my plan.” Haruka straightens his posture, stretching his spine as he takes in his surroundings. Emory, Duke of Devonshire and father of one of the grooms, has truly outdone himself with this venue.

The ballroom they currently occupy is surprisingly cozy despite its grandiose nature. Beaded crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting warm light against the milky-white marble of the floors and stone walls. The east wall has two stacked rows of stately, arched windows offering views of the snowy forest. The west wall is dominated by an oversized, burning fireplace.

Including himself and Nino, there are at least twenty high-level vampires in attendance. However, only the two purebreds will have the “honor” of overseeing the private confirmation.

“Is this normal?” Nino asks, his voice low. “For everyone to be subtly watching us like this? I feel like an animal at the zoo.”

“The vampires of the British aristocracy do seem a bit fervid in their behavior,” Haruka says, bringing his drink to his lips. They’re halfway through cocktail hour, having arrived early to settle and change clothes in preparation for the evening. Haruka casually glances at Nino beside him. He looks handsome in a pewter-gray suit well tailored to his frame. His shirt is starched white and his tie black satin. When Nino catches his eyes, he grins. “What is it?”

“How… are you feeling?” Haruka asks quietly. “You expressed much apprehension in coming to this event. Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m okay. I think… us being here together helps.”

“I am glad.” Haruka sighs, glancing down at Nino’s suit once more. “You look very nice.”

“Thank you. You do too.”

Haruka calmly looks away. Internally, he feels anything but calm. His restrained aura keeps pulsing of its own volition. He shifts his spine again in a discreet stretch. What the hell is wrong with me?

A moment later, he turns his head to the side to watch a young first-generation female with brown, shoulder-length hair approach him. She is short—pixie-like in stature. She is Elsie, the Duke of Devonshire’s youngest daughter and Haruka’s feeding source.

“Good evening, your grace.” Elsie bows deep, her hair falling forward as she keeps her hands clasped behind her back. “You look quite handsome tonight.”

“Hello, Elsie. You are very kind. May I introduce Nino Bianchi of Milan. He will also oversee the ceremony.”

Elsie bows toward Nino, but when she speaks there is no warmth in her expression. “Are you the purebred that adamantly ignored our invitations?”

“That… would be me,” Nino says, his smile strained.

“He is here, nonetheless,” Haruka points out. “We wish to support Oliver and Gael in their desire to bond their natures.”

Elsie lifts her chin. “Tonight marks the third, so we believe it will be a success. While they have not been feeding from each other for as long as you have been consuming my blood, the timing should be sufficient.”

Haruka maintains a tactful façade, but inside, he is fuming. “Elsie. I would greatly appreciate it if you kept the nature of our arrangement private. It is a very personal matter.”

She coldly flickers her eyes up at Nino, then politely grins when they rest on Haruka. “Absolutely. I understand, your grace. But I do wish to tell you that my father has forgotten the bags we prepared. I heard that your manservant has been asking after them? Bloody shame… no pun intended.”

Haruka blinks, feeling as if the floor has dropped out from underneath him. “Excuse me?”

Elsie sighs, a nearly convincing look of disappointment painted on her angelic face. “In all the commotion of preparing for this event, I think it simply slipped his mind. But do not fear, my beautiful lord, I am more than happy to intimately provide for you. I look forward to it, in fact. Perhaps I should visit your quarters later this evening? Through my sources, I have acquired a copy of The Aeneid in its original Latin form. I thought you might enjoy it. I can deliver this to you as well? Two birds with one stone and all that.”

Haruka’s mask is cracking. He brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose, shocked at the blatant entrapment. To make matters worse, he’s already overdue to feed.

“Um, Elsie?” Nino hesitates. “I think maybe Haruka isn’t feeling well.”

She raises her eyebrow in suspicion toward Nino, then shifts her gaze toward Haruka and offers a polite nod. “Your grace, let us discuss this later. Privately.” She turns, flipping her hair as she walks away. Haruka closes his eyes and massages his forehead. The circumstance is inconceivable to him, like a rope is slowly tightening around his neck.

“Jesus… you’re as white as a sheet,” Nino says quietly. “Let’s take a break, yeah?” He gently places his hand on the small of Haruka’s back, then silently guides him out of the crowded ballroom.

Ten

Nino pushes the door to Haruka’s bedroom closed once they’re both inside. When he turns, the dark vampire drops himself down hard on the side of his bed. He hunches over in his tailored black suit, crisp white shirt and black tie, his fingers plunging into his silky hair. The longer they stood in that ballroom, the more miserable Haruka became.

They’ve only been at Hertsmonceux for a few hours, but it’s already overwhelming. Nino has been asked at least three times why he isn’t bonded (which seems like a personal question to ask within the first five minutes of a conversation). At least once, he’s pretty sure he was openly propositioned to try changing his unmated status during this weekend.

What Nino experiences is nothing compared to other vampires’ reactions to Haruka. He’s lost track of how many times someone has called Haruka “exquisite,” “beautiful,” “gorgeous” or “stunning.” What is his age and “my, how young” he looks. His lovely vampiric nature and “why on earth does he keep it enclosed?” It’s one thing to be showered with compliments, but Haruka is being drowned.

Nino thought he had it bad in his bar with humans playing guessing games and flirting with him about his age, but that seems like child’s play compared to tonight. When they had spent time together in Sidmouth, Nino wondered why Haruka chose to isolate himself in the English countryside. The reason is becoming painfully apparent.