Page 67 of The Vanishing
“Would you stop wandering around down here? Don’t walk away from me anymore.”
“I apologize, I—”
Everyone’s attention shifts at the sound of footfalls approaching. The young vampire with the gash appears first, followed by another thin vampire with very long hair. He pauses, but then beams, white teeth flashing with his arms outstretched.
“Honeycomb! Ebaaa, you came to rescue me—Iknewyou would.” He moves through the crowd of frozen vampires to reach them. When he’s standing just outside their protective bubble, he throws his arms around the curve of the large sphere, resting his cheek against the surface and grinning. “I had faith in you this whole time—my beautiful golden angel.” He closes his eyes.
Honeycomb?Haruka turns to his mate, a prickly feeling stirring inside him and making him frown. “Why is he addressing you in such an affectionate manner?”
“Whatever this is that I’m sensing from you, please stop it. I can’t control this creature or what he says. It’s just how he is.”
The dark map of Haruka’s awareness changes, the number of dim lights he first sensed suddenly multiplying, as if blinking into existence. One hundred, no, two… then it doubles again, more and more as warm spots of energy brighten in his mind. His pulse quickens as they draw closer toward them, slow but steady. It feels as if they’ve disturbed an ant hill and all of the creatures are now descending upon them.
“Haru… do you feel this?” Nino is panicked at his side, his mind frenzied as he takes a step back to shift the position of the bubble. Ladislao trips forward from Nino’s movement, surprised as he opens his eyes.
“There are too many,” Haruka says. He takes a deep breath. Nino’s aura is strong enough to fend off fifty purebreds… but hundreds of them?
Ladislao stands straight, looking at them with his head cocked to the side as if confused. But then he follows their gaze toward the darkness. When he turns back to them, he’s smiling. “Ah—they’re awake from all the ruckus. Don’t worry about them! It’s okay, it’s okay. They won’t fight, trust me. They’re just curious about you.”
It’s dark, but Haruka can see and feel them crowding in the wide opening at the opposite end of the cavern, the bright light of his and Nino’s aura giving them subtle shape. Hundreds of purebreds: skeletal and drooping with bulging eyes and rags for clothes. Cave dwellers from an ancient time living cut off from the modern world.
Haruka stares as if in a trance, disbelieving this inexplicable situation. He’s only shaken when Ladislao knocks upside the solid surface of Nino’s aura.
“Olá—my beautiful saviors, can we go upstairs now? I would really like to get the hell out of this cavern, but I want to talk a little first. Is that alright?” Ladislao moves without waiting for their response. He walks around the sphere and straight toward the stairs leading back to the surface. Not knowing what else to do, Nino, Haruka, Detective Cuevas and Marcus all turn and follow his lead.
When they reach the stairs, Haruka looks back one last time, watching the sea of zombie-like purebreds watching him in turn. When he’s out of sight, he releases his hold on the army that assaulted them. Thankfully, no one follows.
Thirty
“Você é tão bonito como… like a demon prince and an angel.”
Nino bumps Haruka’s shoulder beside him.See? He says whatever he wants.
They’re sitting in a shadowy tearoom just off the kitchen. There are two antique-style couches, a small bistro table covered in a dusty tablecloth and heavy velvet curtains hanging from a tall window. Detective Cuevas is hovering behind Nino and Haruka as they face Ladislao on the opposite couch. Marcus is in the kitchen, keeping watch for any movement even though Ladislao has assured them that, quote, “maybe nobody will come.”
Wrapped in a gray emergency blanket from the detective’s backpack, Ladislao stands from the faded velvet couch. He bows deep from his waist, the gesture emphasized by his long, dirty toffee-brown hair cascading forward. “It is my sincere honor to meet you, my beloved prince. Thank you for rescuing me—”
“Sente-se, por favor,” Haruka assures him, his palm lifted. “Não seja tão formal.”
Ladislao blinks up from his bow, his eyes bright. “You speak my native tongue? Ahh, incredible. I understand your devotion now, honeycomb. I would follow this sexy, ancient-blooded creature into the fires of hell… these ruby-red eyes and dark hair…”
When Haruka lifts his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Nino senses that it’s time to get down to business. “What happened? Why were you down there? When I was here, everyone was still living in that village.”
Ladislao plops back down onto the couch. A small puff of dust swirls out in a cloud, hovering around his hips. “Correct. After my tio wasn’t around for about two days, some kind of emergency plan went into action and everyone was moved underground. The one-eared guy has been a nervous mess trying to manage everyone. I think he’s terrified of the responsibility.”
“Yourtiois in prison in New York,” Detective Cuevas says from behind them. Nino turns, and her arms are folded, her chin lifted in contest.
“Good.” Ladislao focuses on the detective. “That’s where he should be. You’re pretty.”
Detective Cuevas starts. “Is that important right now?”
“For me it is.” Ladislao bites his lip. “Delicious and soft, full-figured female—are you second-gen?”
The detective unfolds her arms and shifts her footing, her face upset but flushed in bright red. “I—Excuse me, but can youfocus?”
“I can’t.” Ladislao shrugs. “You are definitely second-gen. Every second-gen vampire I meet is a little grumpy like this—because you are the middle children of the aristocracy, no?”
Gasping, the detective draws back, her face fixed for a rant, but Haruka cuts her off.
