“I doubt the other vampires were as amused by this as you are.”

“Yeah. I guess I’m lucky you actually like me.” Nino stiffens, his face dropping. “I—I don’t mean anything specific by that. I just mean I’m glad I’m on your side.”

Confused, Haruka steps into the space of Nino’s body. He lifts his hands and gently slides them into his hair at the back of his head. “Should I not like you?” Haruka asks quietly, cradling and massaging his head with his fingertips.

Nino’s eyes search his face as he stands perfectly still. “No… you can like me.”

Haruka moves one hand from his hair to wrap his palm around Nino’s bicep, then smoothly leans into the concave of his neck. He runs the tip of his nose up the stretch of skin there, then along his jawline, indulging in Nino’s woodsy, cinnamon essence before truly partaking of him. His eyes burn when he drags his tongue up his warm, salty flesh. He bites into him softly, not wanting to startle him.

His blood is so rich and spicy to Haruka’s senses, innately satisfying like nothing he’s ever experienced. He feels the initial tension in Nino’s body melt underneath his grasp, and soon, he registers the weight of Nino’s hands resting against his hips. They slide to wrap around the small of his back, sweetly urging Haruka to satisfy his needs.

He wants to pull harder, drink deeper. His nature twists within him, urging him to do so. But he pulls his head up, strictly ignoring the sensation. He licks Nino’s neck to clean him, then looks into his face. His eyes are closed tightly and his breathing short. Haruka brings his palms to his cheeks. “Why do you seem distressed lately when I feed this way? Is this uncomfortable for you?”

“No,” Nino says, breathless. He moves his hands from Haruka’s back and steps away from his grasp. His voice is muffled as he rubs his palms against his face. “I told you before you’re not hurting me. I’m fine, I just—” He shakes his head, taking a deep breath.

“You just what, Nino?” Haruka asks. “Please tell me.”

When Nino opens his eyes, they’re glowing in their beautiful golden hue. Haruka’s heart warms, looking into his handsome face. He is thinking that he doesn’t simply “like” Nino. He likes him a lot.

“Nothing,” Nino says. “Everything is perfect, don’t worry. So what exactly happened with Gael? How did he manage to escape? Do you think he’ll come after the book again?”

Haruka scratches the back of his head. It seems he’ll be talking about this after all. “It… is not simply that he escaped of his own volition. He disintegrated during the altercation.”

Nino frowns. “What do you mean, ‘disintegrated’?”

“I unexpectedly felt the heavy weight of another purebred as I confronted Gael, and immediately, he disintegrated into a mist before my eyes. The purebred essence disappeared as well.”

Nino’s mouth hangs open. “Holy shit—”

“Nino, please calm down.”

“Is ‘disintegrated’ your euphemism for ‘vanished’?”

“I admit it is unsettling, but the moment was extremely brief. Nothing has happened since. I cannot explain how, who or why, but we are safe. The vampire did not threaten me in any way.”

Nino shakes his head, his eyes wide. “You’re telling me that Gael vanished, Haru—and a random purebred appeared out of nowhere. This is a big deal.”

“But there seems to be direct cause for Gael’s disappearance. This is not necessarily associated with the cultural phenomenon of one hundred and fifty years ago. For now, can we please keep this between us? I do not wish to provide fuel for additional societal distress, which is inevitable if your reaction is any indication.”

Nino takes a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders. “Sorry. Alright, I understand.”

Late February

Twenty

Milan. Home. A stylish city and bustling metropolis with a healthy vampire population. Nino walks through the halls of his family’s private estate just outside the city. He can feel the energy of his kin buzzing through the air. Thousands of them, contentedly living within his clan’s realm and under the peaceful leadership of his older brother.

In popular magazines year after year, Milan is considered one of the “Best Places to Live” for vampires. It’s a stark contrast to England. Here, they seamlessly coexist with humans—respectfully sharing space and opportunities, jobs and higher education. Things are improving in England, and vampires are far from being chased in the streets with pitchforks and torches. But largely, they’re still seen as “others” among the British: a darker race, a genetic mutation or flaw of nature. In Italy, the existence of vampires is more widely accepted. Normalized.

The hallway is quiet as Nino walks. Large picture windows line the walls on either side, allowing the winter sunlight to brighten the narrow space. When he reaches the arched door to his brother’s office, it’s already cracked open. Nino inhales, then exhales. Steeling himself. He knocks lightly before poking his head inside.

Giovanni’s office is a perfect blend of classic and modern Italian design. The back wall is painted with a lavish mezzo fresco mural from the Renaissance era. The other walls are pristine beige, offset by intricate taupe molding. The wide archway leading to the inner room creates an added bit of refinement to the stunning space.

When he passes through the archway leading into the inner office, Giovanni is sitting at his hard maple desk. Broad-shouldered, tall and very male as usual. His white dress shirt is perfectly pressed and he isn’t wearing a tie. His beard has been recently trimmed and his warm brown hair is pulled back in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Giovanni flickers his hazel-green eyes up at Nino for only a moment, then focuses back down on whatever he’s reading. “The baby duck is home.”

Nino sighs. “Please stop calling me that.”

“Where’s mama duck? Is she coming by today?”

“No.” Nino rolls his eyes. “Cellina has interviews today, but she’ll come to lunch tomorrow after Haruka arrives.”

“You smell like him,” Giovanni says without looking up.

Nino draws back. “Really?” He lifts his arm and sniffs his pit.

“Faintly.” Giovanni sits straight and rests his back against the chair, finally giving Nino his full attention. “You’re carrying another purebred’s scent, but he must not be feeding deeply from you to mark you as his. He hasn’t pulled your aura.”

A statement of fact. Not even a question. “No, he hasn’t.” Every time Haruka feeds from him lately, the longing for him to drink deeper practically cripples Nino—like blazing heat sparking in his abdomen and shooting wildly up and down the length of his body.

He accepts the nature of their relationship. Completely. But Nino is also reaching a point where he would give just about anything to have Haruka release his aura from his body. Never having experienced it before, he doesn’t know exactly how it would feel. Whatever the result, his body wants it. He wants it. His nature craves more from Haruka with each intimate feeding.

Nino likens it to having an intense itch deep within his body that he can’t scratch on his own. Only Haruka can reach it.

“We’re just friends.” Nino firmly stamps down on his unruly instincts. “We don’t have any intention to bond. Haru has pretty strong opinions about it.”

Giovanni leans forward, picking up his papers again. “How boring. And you say he’s around your age?”

“Yes.”

“The two of you get along? You enjoy each other’s company?”

“Of course.”

“Is he physically appealing to you?” Giovanni asks.

“Y-yes…”

“So what the hell is the problem? Why would two young, attractive purebreds be dancing around each other in this day and age? Give me a fucking break. Does he know that he’s the first vampire you’ve ever offered yourself to?”

“That doesn’t matter, G. Like I said, we’re just friends.”

“It matters.” Giovanni picks up a pen from his desk and writes on his paper. “It’s taken you almost a hundred years since you came of age to offer yourself to someone, Nino—it’s a big deal. I’ll be here to greet your boyfriend, but then I’m flying to Paris tomorrow evening. I hate Paris. I’ll be back in two days unless I can get away sooner.”

“Alright,” Nino says, not even bothering to correct his brother. He turns to walk through the archway, but Giovanni’s boisterous voice makes him pause and look back.

“Go sit with Father,” he says plainly. “I already told him his golden child was arriving today, so he’s expecting you.”