Page 15 of The Vanishing
“I bought two plane tickets. If you can be back here by seven, we can leave together.”
Together?Cellina raises her eyebrow. Why would they travel together? For the past century, the unspoken rule has been to avoid each other. He made his feelings toward her crystal clear all those years ago. As a result, whenever they meet now, they squabble—petty and bitter.
But today is different. There isn’t any space for their trivial grievances and acerbic remarks. They need to work together.
She nods, mentally rearranging her schedule for the next week. In truth, she’s grateful that the hassle of booking a flight has been taken off her plate. Why he would extend this kindness to her, she doesn’t understand. But she’ll take it.
“He has to be okay,” she sighs, the image of her sweet friend and his bright amber eyes flashing in her mind. “There’s no other option, Giovanni.”
He stands from the table. “I know. We’ll figure this out.”
Seven
After thirty hours of flights, layovers and amicable silence, Cellina and Giovanni arrive at the Kurashiki estate.
They follow behind Haruka’s manservant as he guides them down an elegant hardwood hallway, passing sliding doors painted with beautiful sumi-e artwork.
“He’s not listening to me,” Asao complains, his voice gruff. “He hasn’t slept or set foot outside his library in the past forty-eight hours, and he doesn’t want to call the police—says they’re useless.”
He opens a sliding paper door to reveal a breezeway. A warm rush of muggy spring air caresses Cellina’s skin. They step outside. She glances over at the grassy, rain-soaked garden and small koi pond as they walk along the veranda. There’s a massive Japanese maple tree in the center with rich maroon leaves. Haruka and Nino’s home feels like a Zen retreat for spiritual meditation. Peaceful, natural and breathtaking.
“No new developments in two days?” Giovanni asks. “He can only tell that Nino is still alive and nothing else?”
“Yeah,” Asao says, opening a door and gesturing for them to step into another hallway. “He’s alive but far away. He can’t surmise anything else. I know human police are incompetent in vampire matters, but we should contact that second-gen detective that was working on Ladislao’s vanishing. The one in America.”
Giovanni shakes his head. “I don’t know… I think we should keep this private for now. See if we can handle it on our own.”
Cellina agrees. “Everyone has just calmed down from Ladislao’s vanishing. This will create a new wave of widespread panic if it gets out. I think I met that detective once when I was in New York. Anika Cuevas. I remember she had very strong opinions.”
“And you don’t?” Giovanni glances at her, raising his eyebrow.
“This isn’t about me, though.”
Asao guides them down another short, glossy hardwood hallway. This area of the estate is more compact, like a small residence unto itself—a guest house.
“You should have heard this Lajos asshole,” the manservant mutters. “Everything he said was either arrogant or bigoted. I didn’t know purebreds like that still existed. Crusty old bastard.”
In very old times, purebredswerearrogant and bigoted—callous in lording over ranked vampires, using them and putting their own wants and needs above anyone else’s. It’s one reason why Cellina adores Nino.
Her friend is like the anti-purebred. Innocent, thoughtful and kind. When his mother died, he’d been so distraught that he’d hidden himself away and refused to feed or interact with anyone—as if he’d wanted to die himself. So, at sixteen, Cellina offered to become his feeding source. That hadn’t been the original plan, but she’s never once regretted her decision… despite the upset it caused between herself and a certain domineering male.
Asao stops in front of a set of double sliding doors. He reaches down and pulls them apart as if manually opening an elevator. There’s a library inside, washed with natural but overcast light from the cloudy sky. Cellina glances around. The space would be superb if it wasn’t a complete and utter mess.
There are books everywhere—opened, closed, stacked, discarded. Papers and scrolls are spread out all over the tatami flooring. A low table in a corner is covered with old newspapers, some having fallen over the edge.
Amidst all this chaos is Haruka. He wears a traditional robe, his very long hair a mess and shoved away from his face, haphazardly tied behind his head. He flickers his burgundy eyes up at them for a moment before focusing back down on whatever he’s reading. He turns a page.
“Haruka—Cellina and Giovanni came to help.” Asao waits. Haruka scratches his head, unspeaking and with his eyes still on the book. He turns another page.
At this, Asao practically growls, losing whatever patience he’s been holding on to. “You’re scared, I get that. But you said Nino is alive, so you can’t sit here and internalize everything on your own. These two came to help you and—”
“Help me dowhat?” Haruka looks up, his eyes the pinnacle of stress. They’re weighted with dark circles and his complexion is too pale. He looks terrible. “I do not know where Nino is. He has vanished into thin air and I cannot do anything to reverse what has been done. There are no records of this purebred anywhere—where he lives, his ability, his realm, his lineage—nothing!”
He presses his palms to his face, dragging them upward and into his disheveled hair as his speech hastens, frenzied. “And this is my doing—Iam responsible for protecting my mate. I was overconfident and lazy, and I allowed this miscreant into our home without knowing enough about him and what he was capable of, and now my mate is—”
With a few strides of his long legs, Giovanni closes the distance to reach Haruka. He places a large hand atop his head, and the woodsy, gingery warmth of his aura radiates outward. It settles around them in a soft glow as Giovanni crouches down in front of Haruka. “First, you’re going to calm down. Then, we’re going to sit in the kitchen and have some coffee—tea, whatever. We’re going to talk about this rationally. Understood?”
Cellina walks forward just in time to see Haruka nod underneath Giovanni’s palm. After Giovanni stands and releases him, Haruka smooths a hand over his messy hair, clenching his eyes shut. Cellina takes Giovanni’s place, lowering herself to rest on her knees in front of him. She frowns, examining his weary expression. “Are you in physical pain?”
