“His bloodline feels old… very clean. Definitely older than ours. He’s that regal type. The only weird thing is he keeps his aura enclosed inside his body, and the color of his skin is odd—like, faded. Something feels off about him. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’m not afraid.”

Vampires with very old blood like Haruka have successfully kept their lineage free of human DNA for centuries. Their ancestry is unmarred because their descendants learned early on to feed exclusively from other purebreds and high-ranked vampires as opposed to humans. Some clans were slower to catch on. When they did, it was as if their bloodline restarted completely—sharper senses, enhanced physical prowess and an improved quality of life. Like hitting a reset button for the subsequent generation.

It’s clear that Haruka’s bloodline hasn’t been reset for a very long time.

“Take him up on his offer,” Giovanni asserts. “Go to him. Do the ceremony.”

Nino breathes a laugh, shaking his head. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. You sound like you instinctively trust him, so go learn from him. Try not to get yourself ostracized in this new aristocracy. You need this.”

“Alright, G.” Nino smiles weakly, scratching his head. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“No you’re not.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He hangs up the phone and moves across his bedroom to his desk. He opens a drawer, then pulls out an elegant silver invitation, flipping it over in his hands. The return address is for an Emory Alain, Duke of Devonshire. He needs to return the RSVP, and then figure out how to let Haruka know that he’s changed his mind. He is accepting his offer.

Early December

Five

Haruka sits at his desk in his library, nervously drumming his fingers against the dark, polished wood and sincerely questioning his decision to allow an unknown purebred into his nest.

It has been four weeks since his initial encounter with Nino. In that time, he has conducted some research on the Bianchi Clan of Milan through primary and secondary sources. Haruka’s father had traveled abroad in his youth with the sole intent of researching their vampiric culture and the shared practices spanning indigenous civilizations. He recorded his own first-hand accounts, as well as bartering for original historic chronicles and journals.

One such acquisition contains many documents focusing on western Europe, including a short registry of prominent vampire families in Italy. Using this and a common search of the Internet, Haruka has acquired many details regarding the Bianchi Clan.

The mother of the family is deceased, which Nino had previously disclosed. The father, Domenico, has surprisingly survived his mate’s passing, but is very ill as a result. The death of a mate in a bonded couple almost always leads to the demise of both vampires, which had been the case with Haruka’s parents.

The Internet search on the eldest Bianchi son, Giovanni, resulted in much modern news coverage under both vampiric- and human-owned outlets: personal interviews, acquisition announcements, business analyses and even some innocuous tabloid articles. Giovanni is largely regarded as an impressive businessman. He is a well-known analyst and strategist, with reputable clients spanning multiple industries across the European continent.

As much information as there is on Giovanni and his achievements, there is as little on Nino. Haruka found practically nothing, as if the younger son has been hidden away from the bright spotlight of his family’s prestige. It strikes Haruka as odd, and as the hour of Nino’s arrival approaches, he wonders if he’s made a mistake in extending this private invitation.

During his investigation, Haruka briefly considered searching for himself online, or at least his name in juxtaposition with “Yuna Sasaki.” Ultimately, he decided against it.

The advent and popularity of the Internet over the past couple decades have been positive from an information accessibility standpoint, but increasingly negative in terms of validity and the loss of privacy. Nino had said that Haruka is “famous” among vampires in the UK. Whether that statement is hyperbole or if details of his life have been exposed in some undesired fashion, he can’t discern.

He sits back against the cool leather of his chair, folding his arms. “Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise. Asao?”

A minute later, his manservant pokes his head in the door frame. “I’m not bringing you any wine right now, Haruka. You can have some tonight—”

“Did I ask you for wine?” Haruka snaps, frowning. “What time did Nino say he’d arrive?”

Asao leans with his shoulder against the doorframe. “He said he’s leaving his bar early, so around eight tonight. The guest bedroom is already made up. I’ll have dinner ready by the time he gets here.”

Asao shifts his eyes down to the floor surrounding Haruka’s desk, his expression suddenly that of someone facing a complex riddle. “Why do you need twenty different books and ten stacks of papers to accomplish anything?”

Haruka smirks. “There is a discreet system in place.”

“It’s a mess.” Asao shakes his head in awe. “You’re just like your father.”

Taking that as a compliment, Haruka sits back in his chair. “Have I made an error in judgment? Was I somewhat hasty in extending this offer to Nino?”

Asao folds his arms. “I’ll admit I’m pretty damn surprised by it, but I think it’s okay. He seems harmless. And let’s be honest, you have an affinity for these bronzed European men. Like that big one in Greece—”

“I do not.” Haruka’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Never mind. Just go away.”

Asao breathes a laugh through his nose. “Alright, your grace. By the way, you got another letter in the mail today. From Japan. This is the tenth one she’s sent this year.”

Haruka swallows hard, his throat tight. The simple mention of her still makes his body tense. He looks back down at his journal to resume his work. “Send it back, please.”

Asao nods. “My pleasure.” He turns and disappears from the doorframe.

A minute before eight o’clock, the doorbell to Haruka’s estate rings. He is waiting in the kitchen, knowing that Asao will first show his guest to his room on the second floor, then allow Nino to settle his things before coming downstairs for dinner.

Even now, Haruka is anxious—his knee nervously bouncing underneath the table. What had gotten into him? For the past ten years, his primary objective has been to avoid other people at all costs, not invite them into his home. He can already smell Nino’s woodsy, cinnamon-laced essence gently floating throughout his nest like an alluring spell. Haruka’s own nature shifts in response, but he’s prepared for it now, so he easily stifles the sensation.

Ten minutes later, Asao precedes their handsome guest into the kitchen. Nino looks around, taking in the space. Asao has made sukiyaki for dinner—the air is warm and accentuated with the scent of simmered beef, vegetables and sweetened soy sauce. Haruka watches Nino from the wooden breakfast nook tucked into a corner along an exposed brick wall. Industrial-style pendant lights hang down from the low ceiling, giving the space a modern yet homey feel.

Haruka stands from the table, taking a deep breath to prepare for whatever he’s gotten himself into. “Hello, Nino. Welcome to my home.”

Nino responds with a slight bow. “Thank you… I appreciate you letting me do this. Your house is beautiful. Picturesque.”

“You’re very kind.” Haruka gestures toward the bench. “Please sit. I hope you like Japanese food?”

“Is this sukiyaki?” Nino blinks in awe. “Holy—I haven’t had this in forever. It looks incredible.”

“Everything is ready.” Asao turns toward the door, grinning. “I hope you enjoy. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Nino calls, his gaze settled on Asao’s back as he leaves. When the manservant is gone, Nino turns to face Haruka. “Asao is third-generation, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Haruka confirms, grabbing an empty bowl for the soup.

“It’s unusual for a ranked vampire to be a servant. How did that come about, if I may ask?”

Lifting slightly from his seat, Haruka grasps the ladle from the large pot. He generously fills the bowl and hands it to Nino, then fills a second bowl for his own helping. “Asao was my father’s best friend as a child. I do not know the story in its entirety, but he willingly pledged his loyalty to the Hirano Clan. When my parents passed, he was named as my guardian.”

“How old were you when they died?”

“Twelve.”

“Jesus.” Nino pauses. “You were young. I’m sorry for your loss.”