“Your grace, I must emphasize that I would never attempt to entrap nor coerce you.” Emory bows for the third time, his wrinkled hand reverently placed against his chest. “The very idea goes against the honor of my bloodline—”
“Emory, we do not need to do this on every occasion that we meet,” Haruka implores. “Sit down, please.”
Haruka sits across from a blundering, apologetic Emory. It is their monthly social visit. They are nearing the end of what has become their atonement ritual—initiated by Emory at the start of every meeting they’ve had since the weekend at Hertsmonceux a little over a month ago.
Emory bows a fourth time before he sits. Haruka is beginning to feel like a feudal lord. Which he hates. “Do you have any news on Gael?”
Emory runs his hand over his smooth gray head, his pale blue eyes distressed. “Unfortunately no, your grace. My son is still extremely troubled over the embarrassment, but I have made Gael’s realm leader aware of the circumstances. Have you ever met Ladislao Almeida?”
An image of the long-haired and chiseled male flashes in Haruka’s mind. Ladislao is prominent in both vampire and human society. Haruka has seen his face on the news often. “No, I have not. But I know of him.”
“Interesting creature, he is,” Emory says, raising a silver eyebrow. “I flew to Rio de Janeiro prior to the ceremony to pay my respects to him as Gael’s realm leader. He detests the frigidity of our traditional aristocracy and strongly wishes to immerse vampire culture with human culture, whether it be business, economy, arts…”
Emory leans forward, his face serious as he whispers, “And procreation, your grace. He openly has sex with humans. Can you believe it? A purebred doing this. He has low-level, half-vampire children scattered across his realm!”
His life, his business. Haruka assumes many vampires have intercourse with humans, but the practice is still largely taboo within their culture—especially for those who are higher-ranked. Human blood lacks the proper nourishment necessary for purebred, first-, second- and third-generation vampires to function at their optimum capacity.
Aversion to sunlight, lifeless blood cells, decaying skin, stunted reproduction capabilities and lack of emotional control all stem from feeding on humans. Consequently, most ranked vampires choose lovers and mates of their own kind. If Ladislao desires to live his life otherwise, it is his prerogative.
“The vampires under his realm feel that he is mucking up our race.” Emory sits up straight, his voice returning to normal now that the apparently shameful part of their conversation has finished. “They feel that as a purebred, he should hold more honor and be more concerned with the decline in the pureblood population since the Vanishing, not frivolously consorting with humans.”
“One man cannot be held responsible for repopulating our race,” Haruka says. “Nor should he be held accountable for the inexplicable circumstances of our past.”
“I agree, your grace. But one man can have great influence. His decision to blatantly ignore the concerns of his kin is causing quite the commotion.”
Reaching down to grab his cup of coffee, Haruka nods in agreement. “Perhaps some diplomacy would help to ease the tension.” From what he’s read in the news, Ladislao seems arrogant in his views, often shocking reporters with colorful, vulgar statements. The situation in Brazil serves as a poignant example of what happens when disapproval of a vampiric leader malevolently spreads throughout a realm.
“My lord, are you still satisfied with your new source?”
Only pausing a beat, Haruka brings his cup to his lips. “I am.”
When he thinks of Nino, “satisfied” is a gross understatement. He looks forward to Sundays when he can spend time with his charming source.
Haruka often watches him, wondering how a vampire like this can exist, and also how he could be so fortunate in crossing paths with him. Sometimes Haruka is distracted by the golden light in his amber eyes, or the beautiful glow of his honeyed skin and bright smile. He breathes Nino’s scent and his nature twists and shifts from want of him.
Consuming his spiced, delicious blood is heavenly. He always wants to pull deeper—to release Nino’s aura and give him intense emotional pleasure. To formally mark him as his own, making it clear to any other vampire that Nino is his source.
But he resists. Strictly suppressing the urge each time. Haruka prides himself on his ability to control his nature, and he and Nino are friends. He deeply values their relationship and would never jeopardize it. Haruka has never known anything like it.
To talk and interact so freely with someone, without the burden of strict societal roles, great personal sacrifice or rigid expectations… Haruka never could have imagined this circumstance. Not even in his wildest dreams.
“You got another letter today,” Asao says, just before sipping a spoonful of soup. When he finishes, he picks up his glass of water. “This makes eleven.”
It’s evening. Asao and Haruka are having dinner together in the kitchen. Haruka sits back and sighs. “What could she possibly want? And why does she know where I am?”
Asao stands from the table and gathers their bowls. “If someone is determined enough, you’re not that hard to find. She obviously wants something from you. Selfish harpy.”
Haruka closes his eyes. Despite not having seen her in almost seventy years, the delicate features of her face emerge behind his closed lids: warm brown eyes speckled with flecks of blue and set in a delicate, oval-shaped face. With the image comes a wave of bitterness and regret. Shame and self-loathing. He’d made a vow to her. Sincerely chosen to dedicate the span of his life, blood and body to her. But where is Haruka now? He tries not to think about it too deeply. When he does, he feels wayward and lost—like a kite without a string.
With his eyes still closed, Haruka lifts his chin and silently sniffs the air. Like a sensitive alarm system programmed within his body, the familiar vibration of his vampiric senses dispatches a wave of warning up his spine and directly to his brain. Someone unfamiliar is drawing closer to his home. He furrows his brow, narrowing his perception as he breathes. Not just someone. A group of unknowns.
Asao is at the sink washing dishes when Haruka opens his eyes. “We have guests approaching.”
“Do we know these guests?” Asao says over his shoulder.
“I’m not certain…” Haruka says. He doesn’t recognize the scents but… He focuses and breathes again. Tea tree. Maybe he knows one.
“How far out?” Asao asks.
“Perhaps an hour.” Sensing the presence of another ranked vampire isn’t an exact science. He can only approximate the distance, but it is a fairly reliable and archaic trait within every purebred’s biology. Other ranked vampires have the ability as well, but their homing skills are much less compelling.
Asao turns off the water and grabs a dish towel to dry his hands. “Well, we should give them a proper welcome.”
An hour passes and their guests are being oddly shy. Haruka sits with Asao in the study. The dark bramble of woods on the other side of the glass wall is ominously illuminated by the soft glow of the full moon. The study is silent save for the warm, crackling fireplace behind their armchairs. Asao abruptly yawns, making Haruka flicker his eyes over to his manservant sitting across from him.
“Can we end this?” Asao says, standing. “I’m ready to go to bed.”
Haruka stands as well. Enough is enough. He walks out of the study and down the hall to the main entrance. He grabs his long wool coat and swings it onto his body. When he opens the front door and steps outside into the moonlight, his manservant is at his side.
The night air is frigid and crisp. Haruka exhales to untie the knot of his aura deep within him, his breath fanning out in a puff of wispy smoke. The pressure within him expands, making his eyes alight and burn bright red. Looking out and scanning the woods, he concentrates. It’s been a while and he doesn’t want to make any careless mistakes.
Two… one… two.
He presses the heavy weight of his vampiric aura out and over the wide expanse of the skeletal woods. It stretches before him like a wide, infinite fan of light, rushing forward against the ground in search of its targets.
Loud cries echo through the air, one after another, as Haruka successfully grasps each of his victims. When all five are secure under his subjugation, he slowly lifts his head, simultaneously raising each form high above the cover of trees and shadows. They come into view, their bodies completely stiff and floating against the night sky like a group of red, hazy asteroids drifting through space.
Willing them forward and directly into his line of sight, Haruka holds them a short distance from the porch where he stands. He places his hands in his pockets and walks forward. When Haruka is standing in front of the one he holds in the center—the largest of the five—he looks up and into his strained face.
“You have an affinity for these late-night, unannounced visits,” Haruka says, watching Gael’s eyes flicker wildly in panic.
Asao yawns, stepping up beside Haruka. “He brought friends this time.”
“I suppose I should be honored by this? I was weak before, but he still sought assistance.”
“Yeah, but did he not realize you’d know they were hiding right outside the damn door?” Asao says, frowning. “Give me a break.”
“Asao, please call the police and Emory. He is realm leader so he should deal with this. I am sure Oliver would appreciate some time with Gael as well.”
“Sure,” Asao says, turning. He smirks. “The police won’t be able to hold a bunch of bulky first- and second-gen vampires. You should help them out.”
Haruka tilts his head, considering. “I will make certain the police have an advantage.”
Asao moves toward the house, his boisterous laughter echoing in the night. “Remind me to kiss Nino next time he comes over.”
Haruka’s concentration falters, just long enough for the five vampires to drop a foot in the air from where he holds them. He quickly catches them again and shakes his head, decidedly pushing the phrase “Kiss Nino” from his mind. He looks up at Gael. Haruka has left all of their conscious minds untouched, so although they cannot move or speak, they can hear and comprehend.
“Is this book so significant to you?” he asks. “That you would attempt to attack me twice?”
Haruka removes one hand from his pocket and raises his arm. He spreads his fingers toward Gael’s chest, specifically lifting his hold on the first-gen’s lungs, diaphragm, vocal chords and mouth so that he can speak.
Gael’s smile is sinister—eerie as he stares down at Haruka. “Me dê isto, old blood. Agora.”
“Não dou. O que você faria com isso?” Haruka frowns. No. What would you do with the book? Gael only snarls in frustration. Aggravated, Haruka flicks his fingers. Gael screams a bloodcurdling sound and both of his legs are now limp and dangling—cleanly broken in five places.
“Answer me,” Haruka says. The large first-gen whimpers pathetically, like a wounded animal. Haruka rolls his eyes. “Ridiculous.” Depending on the quality of blood he receives, Gael will be completely healed within a month or two.
Without warning, a powerful flash of cool energy registers in Haruka’s consciousness, his nature telling him that another, unfamiliar purebred vampire is now present. The scent of something heavy and earthy like sage floods his senses. His eyes wide, Haruka turns, hastily scanning the woods. The moment he catches a glimpse of a black figure standing between the trees, it’s gone. Disintegrated, as if he’d only seen a shadow. Gael’s voice is suddenly loud, panicked and crying out in the silence.
“Não! Por favor—”
Haruka draws back, watching as Gael slowly evaporates before his eyes. His body rolls like a dense fog within his subjugation, gradually vanishing into thin air. Then there’s nothing. As if he never existed.
The purebred presence has also disappeared, and Haruka is left standing with his four hostages. He is still, his mind spinning wildly, trying to discern what’s just happened. Who was that? Where the hell did they come from? There are no other purebreds besides himself and Nino in all of England. But suddenly, there is. And the vampire had manipulative control over their energy—in the same way that Haruka can wield his essence, but fundamentally different.
He blinks, his concentration broken by the sound of sirens cutting through the cold night.
Focusing on the remaining four vampires in front of him, he quickly moves and flicks his fingers through the air, precisely manipulating his energy to break bones and snap ligaments and tendons. The vampires’ screams are muffled, and since they are lower ranked than their evaporated leader, their legs will inevitably take much longer to heal.
Haruka breathes in, willing the heavy outpour of his aura back into his body. He twists it deep within himself and back into a knot, letting the four males fall and hit the cement driveway. Hard. Now their whines echo loudly through the trees.
He frowns at the sight of them, but he is deeply unsettled. It had only been a blip in time—the moment not even lasting ten seconds. He’s never crossed paths with another vampire who could wield their energy so powerfully and precisely.
Gael has vanished again, but this time against his will.
The distant flash of police headlights coming up the long drive brings Haruka’s attention to the present. He turns, sticking his cold hands into his pockets as he heads toward the house. Without speaking, Asao brushes past him, confidently moving forward to direct and manage the clean-up contingent.