“Yes. Again, so oddly specific.”
Nino straightens, his eyes playful. “Can you show me?”
“I primarily only use this as a defense mechanism.”
“That means… you can’t do it without force? You’d hurt me if you did it now?”
“No, I would never—” Haruka sighs, then rolls his shoulders. He unravels the knot of his aura in his belly. His eyes immediately burn bright. He gently presses his energy outward, carefully wrapping it around Nino as he sits against the floor. Nino gasps, surprised as his body floats upward. Haruka has only subjugated him from the neck down, so Nino’s eyes are wide with wonder as he rises higher.
“Holy shit…” He blinks, smiling. Haruka stands and walks around the desk so that he’s directly in front of him. He lifts his hand and rotates his wrist as if he is turning a doorknob, and Nino quickly flips upside down. The warmth of Nino’s laughter fills the space of the library.
“This is wild.” He beams, his amber eyes scanning the room from his new perspective. Haruka smiles. Nino’s innocent joy is infectious.
“Why can’t I smell your aura like this?” Nino scrunches his handsome face in confusion. “It’s all around me, but your scent is missing… It’s not like from before, when you fought Gael.”
Haruka nods, appreciating the way Nino has worded the embarrassing encounter. “You obviously have the same energy source inside of you,” he explains. “But imagine having two different filters. One filter represents the natural allure of your resting aura. The other is much more focused. Purified and streamlined. Now that I am properly nourished, I can distinctly control the two. During the first altercation with Gael, I could not, so they discordantly released from me.”
He slowly turns Nino upright, then straightens his legs and lowers his feet to the floor. When Haruka releases his hold and withdraws his aura, Nino stretches his arms up, still grinning with delight. “Amazing,” he says.
“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.”
