Page 70 of The Vanishing
Nino clenches the edge of the back seat with his hands as he stares at his brother. “G, I don’t… I’mnot—”
“Just shut up,” Giovanni spits, rubbing his temple with his eyes closed. “You know how much I care about Cellina. I finally make some headway with her, and you’re yelling and whining at me about yourself and how it impacts you.Andyou kept her tied up as your own personal feeding source for a century. Fuck you. I’ll figure this out on my own—I always do. Nobody needs you to do a damn thing.”
The rest of the car ride to the estate is silent. Haruka can feel the stress and tension radiating off his mate’s body as Nino stares down at his smartphone. Although the delivery was a bit hostile, he agrees with Giovanni. Nino should not have reacted that way.
As soon as they pull up to the main outer gate of the Bianchi estate, Nino pushes the back door open. There is another car waiting on the street, and Haruka starts, confused. “Where are you going?”
“To talk to Lina.” Nino closes the door without another word and moves toward the second vehicle. A moment later, it drives off and down the dark lane.
“Probably to bad-mouth me.” Giovanni shakes his head. “He’s going to tell Mommy that I yelled at him. I’m letting you off here.”
“You’re not coming in?” Haruka asks. The excursion to Socotra is starting to feel like the more relaxing trip.
“No. I’m staying at a human-owned hotel in the business district. I need to figure out what the hell I’m doing before my father finds out. I can’t go home yet.” Giovanni rubs his hand up his face and into his thick wavy hair. He blows out a deep breath.
“How do you anticipate your father reacting?”
“Not good,” Giovanni says, massaging the top of his head with his eyes closed. “My father is sweet as fucking pie to Nino, but he’s a strict bastard toward me. I disobeyed himonceand he screamed at me and scared the shit out of me. Been on my best behavior ever since. Until now.”
Haruka nods, understanding the situation. “You hold much resentment toward Nino, but perhaps your communication needs… tempering?”
Giovanni drops his hand. His face flat. “I know, alright? Yelling doesn’t help, but I’m fuckingtired. He does whatever the hell he wants—always has. But I can’t ever do shit. The one time I have something good for myself, the first thing out of his mouth is ‘What about me?’ I’m over it.”
“What will you do about Cellina? Do the two of you wish to create a bond?”
“I don’t know.” Giovanni sighs. “Cellina knows my circumstance. Her mother and father already know how I feel about her, but I don’t… I don’t think I can. Bonding isn’t an option for me.”
Haruka folds his arms, considering. Bonding is an innate birthright toeveryranked vampire. It feels unfair that something so essential should be denied. Especially considering that there is a particular vampire that Giovanni finds himself drawn to—which is a rare circumstance in and of itself.
Then again, sacrificing the health and potential vitality of his father for his own personal desires… The situation is difficult.
“There must be a sensible resolution here,” says Haruka. “One in which we all work together? My bloodline is very old and profoundly co-mingled with your brother’s. Cellina is first-gen but… the purebred half of her bloodline feels ancient as well. Your father’s diet has been strict, but we won’t know until we try? And I know that I am biased, but Nino can be very selfless and thoughtful.”
“He can be,” Giovanni admits. “With other vampires. Not with me. He avoids our father and uses me as a substitute. He’s been doing it since Mom died. I know that all this stems from our uncle abusing him, and I know I’ve enabled him because of that, but I’mnothis fucking dad. Nino is a grown-ass bonded vampire now. He still expects me to take care of everything for him and then I do. I’m sick of this bullshit cycle. Enough already.”
“Nonetheless,” Haruka counters, “the situation is complex and he values your opinion. I imagine that your words tonight have struck him deeply.”
“Good.” Giovanni lifts his chin. “Little punk. He asked for it.”
Thirty-Two
When Nino rings the doorbell to the high-rise apartment where the De Luca family lives on the top floor, Cellina’s younger brother answers… which is awkward.
Cosimo always acts as if Nino should have bonded with him—as if there was some unspoken understanding between them. Except Nino doesn’t understand at all. Yes, they grew up together, and they were sexually intimate a few times (the encounters stressful and finicky), but Nino has never once given Cosimo any inclination that he wanted to mate with him or offer his blood.
Nino keeps the stiff conversation short. He’s had enough tension-filled discussions tonight to last him the rest of his life. He knocks when he reaches Cellina’s bedroom, but there’s no answer. He turns the knob and peeks his head inside.
It’s dark. She’s lying in bed, unmoving. “Lina?” Nino whispers. Still no response. He walks over to the bed and sits along the side. He looks down at her. Something is off. Her normally rich, coffee-brown skin seems gray and the texture is rough. Nino touches her shoulder, panic rising in his chest. “Cellina?”
Her eyes flicker open. Instead of the haunting steel gray he’s accustomed to, they’re pale, almost white. She looks at him and gasps, scooting away. “N-Nino? What the hell?”
“I told you I was flying in today.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say you were coming here? Good Lord, you scared me.” She places her palm against her chest and takes a deep breath.
“Lina, why do you look like this?”
“I—I’m… well…” She attempts to smooth her coily, curly bedhead down with no luck. She lifts her chin. “I’m thinking.”
