Page 21 of The Vanishing
“I do not take orders from weak, new-found purebreds.” His eyes glow bright white in his anger. Nino draws even tighter into the wall but nothing happens. Lajos snarls. “When this shield breaks—and it will—the first thing I’ll do is dissolve that useless tongue from your mouth.”
The old purebred stands straight, his white eyes burning out and returning to their darker, hardened state. He turns, the hardwood floor whining under his feet as he walks toward the door. He directs his speech toward the long-haired vampire on the bed. “Make yourself useful for once and watch him. If either of you tries to leave, I promise you won’t get very far.”
Long-hair nods but remains silent. When Lajos and his tall companion with the missing ear are gone and the door closes, the skinny male turns to Nino. “Listen, if he disappears your tongue, don’t worry about it so much, amigo. It will grow back. It’s just… painful.”
Nino presses his palms against his face, then drags them up to grip his hair. He’s terrified and confused, and he wants this hollow, excruciating feeling to subside.How did this happen?
Like a timid cat, the male slinks down to the floor again to meet Nino there. He folds his legs just off-center from the protective sphere. “When Esqueleto brought me here last year… I think it’s been a year? Eu acho? Anyway, he was so angry—he vanished mytesticles. Balls and everything.”
Meeting the thin purebred’s gaze, Nino frowns. “What thehell are you talking about?”
“But they grew back!” he says, cheerful. “Everything—it was slow, and it wasn’t pretty… I was like one of those mannequins in the department store. Maybe six months later I was fine? So don’t worry. Não se preocupe com isso. I didn’t pee the whole time. Turns out we don’t need to pee if we’re not consuming human food stuff. Who knew?”
“God…” Nino’s eyes shut tight as he leans his head back against the wall of his energy.Is he trying to comfort me?He feels sick, his body aching in protest of being so far from his mate. He’s starved for Haruka in every way.
“Amigo, what is your name?”
Keeping his breathing slow and even, Nino opens his eyes, looking the male in the face and suddenly recognizing him. He’s staring back with his faded turquoise eyes, expectant. Nino doesn’t think he can trust him… but given his eagerness to reassure, ignoring him doesn’t seem right either.
“It’s Nino. You’re Ladislao Almeida, aren’t you?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Youknowme? I am still recognizable? Ebaaa.” He smiles and opens his palms in a grand gesture.
Nino blinks in disbelief. Ladislao is much thinner compared with the images and videos of him in the media. The chiseled features, long hair and olive skin tone are the same. Personality-wise, though, he isn’t at all what Nino had expected.
“Where are we?” Nino asks, looking up toward the window and the darkening sky.
“That’s a good question. Geography-wise, I have no clue. But I’m pretty certain that this is my tio’s realm. His ‘perfect purebred society,’ or whatever. I’ve tried to leave this house a couple times during the day, when everyone is sleeping, and, well… I’m still here. There’s nothing but dirt and rocks for miles and miles. Tio gets super mad when I try to run, so I’ve stopped. I like having my testicles attached to my body, you know? He wins.”
Nino sighs, exhausted and stressed and really wishing that he would stop bringing that up.
“My tio abuses his power and old blood,” Ladislao says. “He doesn’t like to kill other purebreds—just teach them lessons so they ‘know their place.’ Éhorrível.”
“I vanished, but I’m not… I’m here—somewhere.We’re not dead.” Nino tries to wrap his mind around the situation, needing to make sense out of something.
“Yes, correto. You are not alone. There are many of us here. Can you feel their presence? Try concentrating.”
For the first time, Nino turns his focus outward, ignoring the pain and fear reverberating throughout his body. Eyes closed, he breathes in. Ladislao is right. The air around them hums with the energy of purebred vampires. But it’s faint… like a gentle electrical current whispering through the atmosphere. He tries to discern their number, but it’s difficult. The pulse of energy is too weak. “How many are here?”
“Eu não sei. Sem pistas, amigo. Esqueleto won’t let me out of this room, so I can’t say. Aside from my failed escapes, I’ve been stuck in here for a year without food or drinks or sex. Nosex. Ahh, so boring. Just kill me already.”
“Why do you keep calling Lajos ‘Skeleton’?”
“Well, look at him—atme.” Ladislao’s seafoam-colored eyes are wide, incredulous. “Everything with my tio is too, too strict. I get blood once every couple days and that’s all. You know, there’s a myth that we as purebreds don’t need to consume food. It’s true that we can survive okay without it, but our bodies arealive. These things help make us strong.”
Nino sits a little straighter within his aura. “Where are all these purebreds I’m sensing? I feel them but… it’s distant.”
“How about you relax, yes? Do we need this bubble between us?” Ladislao reaches up and knocks against the hard surface. The sound echoes as if he’s hitting hollow glass. “I was just kidding earlier… about my cock and the warm honey thing. You are yummy and I’m horny as hell, but I am not your enemy. I respect your bond, I promise.”
Nino bites his lip. Part of him worries that if he keeps this up, it’ll exhaust him and fizzle out, leaving him defenseless in his already distressed state. He also worries that if he withdraws it, he won’t be able to press it outward again. He curses himself for not taking his and Haruka’s meditation more seriously.
It’s a risk, but he isn’t sure how long his body and mind can function while exerting so much energy. He closes his eyes and wills the strength of the sphere back inside him, feeling it fade and dissipate. He’d been warm within his aura, but now the damp, cool and clammy air of the room settles against his skin like a wet blanket. It makes him shiver.
Ladislao smiles. “Much better. You should save your energy. Can you stand? Look out the window above your head.”
Ignoring his aching limbs and the hollowed, forlorn sensation in his abdomen, Nino pushes himself up from the floor. He turns, using the sill of the window as leverage to support himself as he takes in the view beyond the glass.
Their position is high, the precipice of a mountain overlooking a vast, desert-like valley with craggy rocks, wild, scattered brush and the most unique trees he’s ever seen. They remind him of flipped umbrellas: as if the wind blew them too hard and cast all their branches upright, reaching toward the sky instead of outward and down like most trees. The landscape is alien to him, as if he’s on an entirely different planet. The horizon is packed with dark blueish-purple clouds that look like mountains unto themselves, and an orange sunset backlights the broken spaces where he can see the sky. Nothing else is here—no stores, no buildings, no roads or people.
