Page 8 of Pining for the Prince
The doorbeast stepped aside and Gwil entered. Gone was the barren nature of an empty warehouse, the innards of the Dock Club were as nice as any human nightclub of the type that wasn’t so fussy about who they let in. Nightclubs weren’t his idea of fun and one of the few things he missed about being human was his gentleman’s club. The vampire one didn’t quite have the same air about it, although in the 1900s the clientele wore a lot more clothes and were unlikely to be bumping and grinding with each other, which would not be the case in the Dock Club in a few hours.
He hurried over to the bar and ordered an Italian 19, preferring something younger, and a bit sweeter this evening. Glass of blood in hand, he scanned the club to find who he was meant to be meeting. The dancefloor wasn’t busy, it was too early for the serious dancers. He spotted Nella in a corner deep in discussion with who, at first glance, he thought was human. Then he realised his ears were too pointy and he mustn’t be on his time of the month as the rest of his werewolf traits were well-hidden. Also with them was an older woman, a wood nymph by the pattern on her skin, which reminded him of bark.
“Hi, Gwil. Wasn’t sure you were going to make it—thought you might bail on us,” said Nella.
“Wonders will never cease,” he said, taking a seat.
“Always good to see new faces. I’m Gloria,” said the wood nymph.
“Fred.” Their puppy pal held up a hand and then, scratched behind his ear. “Yeah, welcome, I don’t bite. Unless it’s a full moon.”
“Right.” God, werewolves had the worst sense of humour. “Pretty sure you guys don’t go for vampires. Something about how you prefer fresh meat.”
Fred gave him a cursory sniff and wrinkled his nose, which was disconcerting but expected once he’d said who he was. “You’re safe from me. But then so are the living. I’m dry. I haven’t eaten a human since 2019. Very freeing it’s been.”
“Fred’s a member of the Furry Freedomers,” said Nella, with a shy smile. “He’s got his orange badge already.”
He’d heard of the vegan werewolf brigade and the last thing he wanted was this to end up in a discussion about recipes for meat substitutes and nuts. “I’m afraid, I still partake,” he saluted him with his glass. “Blood substitutes just don’t cut it for me. Although I tend to go by the bottle rather than fresh from the source.”
“It’s still human blood though, just because that vampire nerd Hoffman figured out how to stop it coagulating in the bottle doesn’t mean it’s less human consumption,” Fred said.
Dear God, there was nothing so self-righteous as an ex-consumer. “I’m not here to argue ethics, but I know that the draining process they use for bottling doesn’t kill or turn the human, so I think if you’re into human rights, you should be pro-bottled blood.” It wasn’t the whole story and he’d bitten enoughhumans when he’d been newly turned and not got a handle on his blood lust to get pulled into this argument.
“How would you know that? The process is closely guarded.”
Another story he didn’t want to share. “I dated Hoffman for a while.” Twenty years, and he was still a friend, although he did do a good impression of a creepy ex at times.
Gloria gasped. “You could have been living a life of luxury, he’s richer than God!”
“Money isn’t everything.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, enough about that, it was over forty years ago.”
He scanned the dancefloor, hoping to see something pretty enough for the evening to take his mind off Hyax. He didn’t know why he bothered, it was fruitless trying not to think of him, but at least this way he could trick himself into believing he was doing something to break his infatuation.
Nella scooted closer. “I didn’t expect you to come. What changed your mind?”
“Needed a night out. There’s only so much TV I can stand, and if I’d stayed in, I’d have carried on working.”
“No pretty fairy with you, I see.”
“He’s busy.” He tried not to sound bitter but he couldn’t manage it. “Always too busy for me outside of work.”
Nella pouted and squeezed his thigh, he didn’t need her pity. “The fae are self-absorbed creatures, have you tried telling him how you feel?”
He’d thought many times about telling Hyax, almost did once but had backed out when Hyax had got his head turned by the arrival of a gorgeous Black singer and had left him mid-sentence. “It’s better to be in the friendzone than no zone.”
“That sounds a very human thing to say.”
“There’s no need to be insulting. Besides, we’re business partners, it could ruin everything if it got weird between us.”
“It’s already weird,” Nella said, sipping a glowing green concoction he thought he’d rather not know the contents of.
Fred leant in. “Did you guys hear about Testament?”
“The club under The Strand?” asked Gwil. It was a pretty popular high-end nightclub, the sort of place that wouldn’t let him through the door. “What about it?”
“It got raided by the Met last night.”
“Which Met? The real police or the spooky brigade?”
