Page 44 of The Vanishing
Nino smiles, hesitating, but then lays his hand on top of hers as it rests against his arm. “Okay, s-sounds good.”
July
Twenty-One
“On a scale of one to ten, how drunk was I last night?” Mia groans and lays her head back, careful not to spill her coffee on the plush couch. She runs a hand into her long wavy hair. It’s still the off-season, so of course, it’s dyed. Something like a rich plum tint shines against the deep walnut of her natural color. “Ten being like, totally shit-faced and falling down… I don’t remember falling down, though? Wait—is that worse?”
“Oh God.”
“I shouldnothave drunk that much rum.”
Cellina takes a sip of her own coffee and smiles. “You shouldn’t have drunk that much, no, you didn’t fall down, and maybe an eight? If I’m being nice.”
“Dammit. Was I embarrassing? I feel like I did something embarrassing, like blatantly spitting on people while I was talking. I spit when I’m drunk—I think my glands become hyper liquified.”
“You were fine.” Cellina laughs. “Gross. Just forget about it.”
“The stupid pressure gets to me, you know? Too many ranked vamps concentrated in a small place. Ihateit.”
They both attended a society event the previous evening. The Moretti Clan—a family of first-generation vampires prominent in the art world—held their annual summer soiree. Everyone who is anyone attends. The evening is a staple within the Milan aristocracy.
“My parents keep pressuring me to bond and find a mate—like the shit is easy,” Mia whines. “Can’t they just be proud of me for who I am? For what I’ve achieved?”
Cellina smiles at her friend. “You’ve been a prima ballerina for La Scalla for the past fifty years—of course they’re proud of you. They just want tiny vampires to cuddle sooner rather than later.”
Mia folds her arms. “Thentheyshould pop out some more.”
“Uh, you know they can’t. Your parents are well over two hundred. That ship has sailed.”
“Listen, can you and I just…trybonding, and then find a donor?” Mia bats her eyes. “We’ve known each other forever and we’re comfortable. We could do whatever we wanted, you know? Without the antiquated gender roles and hierarchy bullshit. It could be the perfect relationship.”
Cellina stands from the couch and walks to the large window, stretching her legs. She looks out over the gray, dreary buildings of the city underneath the cloudy skyline—the sharp pillars of the Duomo like ornate upright daggers in the distance. Heavy raindrops pelt against the glass and stream down. “Mia, I love you and all, but I’m not committing to taking care of your drunk ass for the rest of my life. We already talked about this.”
“I know, but I don’t drink as much as I used to! I’m getting better. It’s only bad like this off-season… and we know how to have fun together, yeah? Even though it’s been a while…” Mia winks in a smile. Cellina frowns.
“You got a lot of attention last night—as usual,” Mia goes on, smirking. “Just swatting them off like flies. Why is it that the vampire who doesn’t want the attention gets a shit ton? Meanwhile, I’m flashing my fangs and can’t even get a date. You’re finally finished with school and papers and internships, you have an amazing position at Pinacoteca di Brera… So when will we start opening ourselves to dating?”
“I still have things I want to accomplish—there’s a long road ahead.”
“Okay…” Mia nods. “But you can do those things and be with the right vampire… Apparently that vampire is notme, but whatever. Someone?”
Cellina moves back toward the couch with her coffee. “Romantic relationships take a lot of work and attention—people are needy and co-dependent. I don’t have time to coddle someone. Nor do I want to.”
In truth, she’s still recovering from coddling her best friend for most of his life. Worn out from being Nino’s feeding source for more than a century. The last thing she wants right now is to take on another ward. Being the vampire she is—forthright and ambitious—it would inevitably end up that way.
Unless she found someone more like herself? Someone who would be atruepartner as opposed to a third leg she’d need to drag along and mother.
Mia sits up from the couch in a jolt, sniffing the air in a dramatic gesture and lifting her chin. Her pale blue eyes are wide. “Smells like Giovanni.”
“Yeah.” Cellina raises an eyebrow. “This is his usual day and time to visit with my father.”
Grabbing her purse in a tizzy, Mia rummages through and pulls a compact mirror out. “Why the hell didn’t you warn me—Shit.Shit.” She runs her fingers through to fluff and accentuate her shiny waves, then hastily grabs her lipstick and applies it. Cherry red.
Cellina’s mouth is agape. “Are you serious right now?”
“Areyouserious?” Mia frowns, replacing the cap on her lipstick and puckering. “Giovanni is purebred andhot.Nobody can figure out why he won’t choose a mate. I don’t get it either, but when he’s ready, I’ll be standing in line.”
“Giovanni is too busy to mate,” Cellina reasons. “He’s always running around all over the place. Doesn’t it seem a little crazy? Like he’s wearing himself too thin?”
