Leaning back against the soft leather sofa, Haruka folds his arms. The low coffee table in front of him is cluttered with papers, stacks of envelopes and the wax seal. “My hope is that Gael’s reaction to the research is the exception and not the rule. Mass distribution is tricky since the information in the manuscript is sensitive. It is a matter of privacy.”
Nino shrugs. “We can change the names to numbers? Or only use first names? I just think valuable research should be shared. Why keep all this insight a secret? And you don’t even oversee a realm right now to help other vampires if they have questions.”
Haruka raises his eyebrow. In the silence, Nino glances up from his laptop. He smiles, sheepish. “Obviously this is not a criticism. I’ve never overseen anything other than my bar and right now I’m not even doing that.” He laughs, scratching his head before he goes on.
“What I’m saying is, maybe other realm leaders—good ones, vampires that are reputable and trustworthy—would benefit from receiving a copy of this? G told me he’d love to see it, and my father’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when I told him about it. I think the book has the potential to benefit the population. Like a roadmap to bonding. Maybe it’ll help put everyone’s fears at ease?”
Everyone’s fears. The decline in purebreds. A lack of successfully mated couples, and therefore, a deficit in thriving purebred families. Much hysteria, all rooted in bonding. It amazes Haruka. From his perspective, bonding was the biggest mistake of his life. “I understand your argument.” He sighs. “Let me have some time to consider it.”
“Sure, no pressure.” Nino looks down at his laptop and continues typing. “Just offering an alternative perspective. Speaking of my father, I think he wants to talk to you again sometime before you leave. He really enjoyed meeting you the other night.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Domenico Bianchi is gray and weak in his vampiric aura. Still, an undeniable air of dignity radiates strongly from the sophisticated male. To survive the loss of a mate is extremely rare considering your primary, practically bespoke source of nourishment is cut off when they perish. To be so dependent upon someone then have them disappear can create great trauma for a bonded vampire’s complex biology.
“Nino, I hope that I do not come across as callous, but how has your father survived this long without his mate?”
“Well. It’s… kind of complicated.”
Silence. Haruka blinks. Nino is always exceptionally transparent, so this rare instance of confidentiality feels odd. “Alright, understood.”
“I’m sorry, Haru. But I can tell you that he misses Mom a lot. I guess I favor her in some subtle ways, so he talks about her whenever I sit with him… which isn’t as much as I should, but…” Nino shrugs.
Haruka isn’t certain, but when he had sat with Nino and Domenico, he noticed that the dynamic of their relationship felt odd. Nino’s father had seemed very grateful to have them both sitting there, as if he didn’t usually receive guests.
“Do you not visit your father often?” Haruka asks. If his own father were alive, Haruka feels certain that he’d still be living in Japan. Perhaps he never would have left. His father had been an incredibly loving and doting vampire.
“I don’t.” Nino sits back in his chair. “Our relationship is a little strained. G would be mad if he heard me say this out loud, but remember I told you that my uncle attacked me?”
“Of course.”
“He and my father were identical twins, so the dynamic of the entire situation was uncomfortable. I didn’t tell you this, but the reason my uncle stopped feeding from me was because my mother walked into my room one day and saw him doing it. No questions asked, she went primal. She literally ripped his throat out right in front of me. I’d never seen that side of her before. It was terrifying.”
Haruka keeps his breathing even as he digests the horrific details of Nino’s childhood.
Nino stands from the desk, then moves toward the couch to sit beside him. “After Mom died, Father just… I don’t know. He’s hands-off with me. I think it’s guilt? He’s never pressured me to do anything or encouraged me to learn the aristocracy or socially engage. I ended up keeping to myself—lots of time with private tutors or on my own, indulging in human pop culture. But Father pressures and restricts the hell out of Giovanni, which of course creates tension between G and me… and there’s some more weird tension because G really likes Cellina, but she feeds me. Soooo that’s the story of my messy family!”
“The situation is indeed multifaceted,” says Haruka. “But perhaps any complex, emotional relationship is guaranteed to have some element of… messiness?”
Nino breathes a laugh. He gently bumps his thigh against Haruka’s as they sit close on the couch. “Do you think we’ll be messy?”
Haruka shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
Nino points to the table and frowns. “You’re already messy so it’s probably inevitable. Look at this. What are you doing? How is this organized?”
“It is a controlled chaos.”
“It is not.” Nino chuckles as he straightens the table. “We need to keep the piles straight, not ‘spontaneous’… Are there ink smudges on these envelopes—”
Haruka leans into him, stealthily sliding his fingers onto his leg until they follow the curve inside Nino’s thigh. He hasn’t used his energy at all, but Nino is suddenly motionless, his eyes blinking. Haruka caresses the tip of his nose along Nino’s smooth jawline, then leans down to lick the concave of his neck. His honeyed skin pulses warm and salty. Haruka wishes he could feed from him again, but it’s too soon since he fed deeply the night before.
“I express spontaneity in many ways.” Haruka kisses the spot he licked. Then again, firmly pressing his lips into the elegant curve just beneath his jaw. Nino softly inhales as he slides his fingers higher up his thigh. “Is this also unacceptable?” Haruka asks between kisses.
Nino still doesn’t speak, but his eyes shift, glowing with bright golden light. Haruka grins, pleased. He knowingly allows himself to indulge. Just a little. He slides his fingertips closer toward the firm bulge between Nino’s thighs. “You were so garrulous just a moment ago, but now nothing?”
There’s a knock at the door to the outer room. Haruka casually removes his hand from inside Nino’s thigh. He sits back and folds his arms just as a maidservant appears beneath the archway. She bows.
“Apologies, my lords. Master Giovanni has returned early from his trip. He wishes that the three of you would go to Porta Romana for dinner tonight. The attire is semi-formal.”
The maidservant looks to them both. Nino is leaning forward, his elbows against his thighs and his palms massaging his face. The maidservant raises her eyebrow. “Your grace?”
“Yeah, okay,” Nino says, his voice muffled. “Tell him we said okay.”
Twenty-Nine
A couple days later, Nino is sitting at a tall, sleek black table in a fashionable restaurant. He glances toward the bar area. A beautiful floating shelf filled and lined with leafy green palms hangs above the bartenders as they work. Tall potted plants have also been tastefully placed along the glass walls, giving the delicate impression that he is eating lunch outside in a tropical garden rather than within an enclosed space.
It’s impressive, but his business mind wonders how much time and money it costs to maintain all these plants.
When he senses Cellina nearing the restaurant, he looks up toward the door. A moment later, she enters. Nino beams. Cellina never just walks. She saunters—confident, like a vampire that knows their beauty and worth. Her tightly coiled auburn hair is swept up in a bun to emphasize her dramatic earrings. She is wearing light jeans that perfectly hug her fit curves, a deep teal sweater and a fashionable, oversized beige coat. As always, she looks impeccable.
Nino stands when she reaches him and wraps her up in a tight hug. She’s carrying a pink bakery box that he recognizes.
“Ciao bella—is this for me?” he asks, releasing her.
She sits on the other side of the table. When she’s comfortable, Cellina slides the box across the smooth surface and looks up at him from beneath her lashes. “A peace offering.”
“For telling me to go to that miserable party and then ditching me?”
