Page 11 of The Vanishing
When Nino pulls away, it’s like coming up for air after being swept deep into the undercurrents of the ocean. He swallows, unable to catch his breath. “There’s olive oil behind you.”
Haruka looks back, then leans and grabs the deep green bottle from the table before opening it. Once his fingers are slick, he reaches down and wraps them around Nino’s stiff length in between them. Nino sighs, the warmth of climax already pulsing within him from Haruka’s weight and touch.
“What do you want me to do to you?” Nino smiles, lazy. Haruka’s fingers are marvelous as they stroke and move—talented, as if he’s playing an instrument. His scent is making Nino’s head fuzzy, like he’s had one too many drinks.
With his dark eyebrow lifted, he takes Nino’s hand and guides it behind his back and toward his naked ass. “Youknowwhat I want.”
Using the slick residue from Haruka’s hand, Nino slowly presses his finger inside him. Haruka shifts in pleasure and Nino can feel the tight, warm canal of his mate’s body flexing and yielding to him. Nino bites his lip, breathless. “It would be nice if you told me… openly.”
He drags his finger out, careful as he switches and presses two fingers inside, making Haruka arch and groan as he pulses them deeper. When Haruka brings his head down, his irises are bright sunset. He takes hold of Nino’s chin so that their eyes meet. “Enough talking.” He places a quick peck on his lips before shifting up and away from his fingers. Gripping Nino’s shaft, Haruka guides himself down to meet and gradually take in his length.
When they’re connected, there is no more talking. Or thinking. There’s just the two of them and their innate need to be entwined. For their natures and bodies to exist as one. Haruka rolls and rocks his hips while Nino grips him, his fingers digging into his flesh. Within moments, they have both ascended to something that feels like paradise.
May
Five
For three days straight, the rain has swept through western Japan. The sky weeps, relentless and gray, stripping the cherry blossom trees clean of their delicate flowers.
6:50p.m. Haruka sits in the front tearoom of the estate, arms folded while his knee bounces from stress. Lightning flashes against the window, shifting his attention there. The maple tree outside the glass bends and sways in hypnotic rhythm and a rumble of thunder echoes in warning. The weather isnothelping his unease about this meeting.
The front door to the estate opens, then shuts in a bang. After some loud shuffling, Nino appears in the doorway, his jacket and hair damp with rainwater. Asao passes behind him, likely headed to the kitchen to prepare tea for their impending guest.
“The train delays today are awful.” Nino shrugs out of his jacket and disappears for a moment to hang it in the closet beside the tearoom. He calls out, “At least I made it before seven?”
A moment later, he steps down into the room, running his fingers into the top of his wet, coppery hair to brush it back. Despite being flustered and rain-soaked, he looks handsome in a patterned dress shirt and dark khaki pants. Haruka lifts his chin when he’s standing over him. Nino places two neat kisses on his mouth before plopping down beside him onto the couch.
“Welcome home, my love.” Haruka smiles. Nino’s presence always helps put his mind at ease. Even on the day they met, standing in front of Nino felt like basking in the warm rays of an autumn sun.
“Grazie, tesoro. I don’t sense our guest?”
“Me neither,” Haruka sighs. 6:55p.m. Sensing the presence and location of another ranked vampire isn’t an exact science, but it is a reliable component of their biology. Haruka can sense Nino much more intuitively because they are bonded—not just his location, but his emotional state and well-being. His thoughts too, when they mutually consent to opening their minds to each other. If the distance becomes too great, Haruka can only discern his mortality.
With three minutes left before their scheduled meeting time, he should detect the vampiric aura of their guest approaching. If he is focused, Haruka can sense every ranked vampire within a twenty-five-mile radius—their presence like warm lights speckled against the dark map of his realm.
With regard to this new purebred, he feels nothing on the horizon. It doesn’t make any sense.
“Do you think he’ll no-show?” Nino asks. “You told me the purebred you sensed in the woods last year smelled like sage. Thishasto be the same creature.”
Gael, an associate of the Almeida Clan, had staged an ambush outside Haruka’s house in England the previous year. A reckless attempt to steal hisLore and Lustmanuscript. The first-generation vampire’s effort was thwarted, but an unexpected thing happened. A flash of power emanated from the surrounding woods—the unmistakable presence of another purebred.
The incident had been even more strange because there are no purebred vampires left in England. While the entire pureblood population has suffered as a result of the Great Vanishing, purebreds of British descent have become extinct.
The mysterious sage vampire emerged, then quickly disappeared. Gael also disintegrated right before Haruka’s eyes.
“I didn’t see the purebred in the woods that night,” Haruka reasons. “Just sensed them. So I cannot know for certain.”
“I wish we could have refused his request. I don’t feel good about this at all.”
“My love, we discussed this. We cannot outright refuse a request without justification for doing so. Within the expectations of the aristocracy, it is proper to—”
Haruka sucks in a breath. The heavy presence of an old-blooded purebred has suddenly appeared, creating a distinct pressure in the air around them. Nino sits straight, his amber eyes wide. The vampire has materialized from nothing, and yet he is waiting outside their front door.
The bell rings. 7:00p.m. Bewildered, Haruka stands, his heart beating wildly. How is this possible? What kind of power does this vampire have? The scent of sage drifts through the air, confirming that this is indeed the vampire he sensed in the woods a year ago.
Nino stands beside him, his fingers raking through his hair yet again. Asao appears, rushing past the tearoom to open the front door. The wash of torrential rain and thunder outside breaks the silence before the door shuts again.
When Asao stands in the entryway, he bows in a polite gesture. “My lords, Lajos Almeida of the Almeida Clan.” He moves aside, allowing their guest to step into the doorway.
