The Vanishing by Karla Nikole

Twelve

“So how did you know he was the one? The one you wanted to bond with.”

Ladislao sits perched on an old, tufted ottoman at the end of the bed. He’s leaning over the chipped brass railing, staring at Nino in the dim candlelight. Everything in the room feels old. Outdated, as if the house were built and decorated sometime in the 1800s and hasn’t been touched since. There are light fixtures, but no electricity, and the air around them is dank and cold—the wind howling and rushing outside as soft rain pelts the window.

Nino lies on his back across the top of the bed, palm pressed to his forehead and his eyes closed in concentration. They’d had a stand-off where Nino refused to sit in the bed with Ladislao. The latter conceded (reluctantly and despite many promises that he wouldn’t try anything), encouraging Nino to get off the icy, dirty floor.

Sighing, Nino opens his eyes with heavy lids. He stares up at the darkened ceiling, calling Haruka’s face to his mind: his warm burgundy eyes, the soft pucker of his lips and the tiny mole just off the bridge of his nose. “His nature sang to me, like… in me and through me. It came to a point where being with him was easier and more natural than being without him. I wanted everything from him, and I’d never felt that way about anyone before.”

“Mm, can’t say I’ve ever felt that way… and I’ve banged a lot of different kinds of creatures—humans and vampires.”

Nino shakes his head against the bed, eyes drifting shut.

“But I have fun, you know?” Ladislao says. “In my own ways. Once, I had an affair with a two-hundred-year-old first-gen queen from an aboriginal tribe in Australia. Maybe she was my favorite? And another time, I had a human female who had once been a male, and she—”

A quiet knock at the door makes Nino’s eyes flicker open. He sits upright, slow and groaning from the nausea still swirling in his body. Ladislao lifts a hand in reassurance. “No stress, honeycomb, it’s just feeding time. Breakfast.”

“But it’s night.”

“The vampires here are nocturnal.” Ladislao stands from the ottoman and walks across the creaking floorboards. He cracks the door open, peeking through. After a polite greeting, he opens it wide. A small female vampire with a head full of wild and curly hair enters. She’s carrying a fanciful tray in one hand and holding the handle of a firelit lantern in the other. The soft glow of light does little to hedge the darkness within the room.

Nino looks toward the door and notices the tall vampire with the missing ear standing just outside, so he flares the strength of his aura outward to cover himself. The vampire sneers through the crack before turning and shifting out of view.

After setting the tray on a small table, Ladislao takes the frail female by the hand. Her hesitation is obvious, and she is fearful as he guides her toward Nino.

“Minha amiga, he’s okay,” Ladislao assures her. “He’s kind, like me. And from the outside world.”

She’s blinking at Nino with large brown eyes. The dim nature of the room makes the light of Nino’s aura sparkle and reflect in her irises.

“Nino, can she touch your shield?” Ladislao urges her to stand at the bedside, just beyond the perimeter of his sphere. The girl seems harmless, and Nino knows he’s well protected behind his aura, so he nods.

Ladislao guides her hand up. He gently presses her palm flat against the shape. Her eyes widen with astonishment. She sucks in a breath and whips her head toward Ladislao, then to her hand before resting her gaze on Nino.

“She can’t speak,” Ladislao whispers. “I think my tio or someone did something to her… She’s the only purebred I’ve met here outside of the tall guy with one ear. It took me months to earn her trust, but I think I have it now?”

Looking her over, Nino considers the weak pulse of her purebred aura—the quiet swirl of two separate energies within her. “She’s bonded.”

“Mm. I think her mate is down in the village.” He turns to her. “See? We’re not bad people. He’s strong, but he won’t hurt—”

The three of them jump at a loud banging sound against the door. The small female removes her hand and rushes toward the exit. Before she’s there, the one-eared male steps inside, snarling, “Enough—Kahla, what’s taking you so long? Useless wretch.”

As soon as the girl disappears into the dark hallway, the male slams the door shut, rattling the walls. When it’s silent, Nino withdraws his aura and falls back down against the bed in a huff, his energy levels tanking fast.

“I don’t know why his ear hasn’t regenerated already—it’s been over a year now…” Ladislao walks over to the small table, regarding its contents: two glasses filled with liquid.

“She left her lantern. Do you want blood?”

Nino’s stomach turns. “Whose blood?” he asks, his voice dry and tired as he lies with his cheek pressed against the silk comforter. This smells weird…

“Don’t know.” Ladislao shrugs. “But it’s purebred, so it will help you feel better.”

“No thanks.”

“You can drink another vampire’s blood this way without hurting your bond, amigo. So long as it isn’t intimate feeding—”

“I know that. I don’t want it.” Nino sighs, his aching body limp against the bed as he mumbles. “I’d starve first.”

Across the room, Ladislao picks one of the glasses up from the tray. “True devotion… My tio is wrong about you and your mate.” He lifts the glass to his lips and finishes the entire thing in one long pull.

“Who was that female?” Nino asks when he’s done. “Why did you have her touch my aura?”

Ladislao picks the second glass up and holds it in Nino’s direction. “Last call?”

“It’s all yours.”

He lifts the glass and devours it. Nino can’t imagine drinking another vampire’s blood—under any circumstance. His mate has experienced the deepest betrayal possible within their culture. Nino would never do anything to trigger that feeling within him again. Ever.

When Ladislao is finished, he smacks his lips in a loud, satisfied sound. “I don’t know who this is, but they’re not bad at all. Very nice to my nature.” He places the glass down, then moves back to his seat on the ottoman. “She’s been bringing me blood since I arrived a year ago. I think my tio chose her because she’s non-verbal, which means she can’t talk about me with her other community members… I could be wrong though.”

“Are you a secret? And why would she be afraid of me?”

“Because she’s young, and maybe… I think some vampires here, they don’t know anything about the outside world. She was so skittish and fearful of me at first—for a long time. But after a while, I could see her mind changing. She started smiling at me when I said funny things and she lingered in the room, listening to me talk instead of dropping off the blood and running away. Usually, she doesn’t have an escort—the one-eared creepy guy stays pretty close to my tio’s side. She was nervous again today, but did you see how she reacted to your aura?”

“She seemed surprised.”

Ladislao nods. “It’s good for her. This exposure. I’ve noticed… Aside from my tio, maybe the other vampires here have weak auras? Kahla and One-ear, their energies are so pathetic as purebreds. After being here a year, I feel that mine has faded, too. I think she was surprised at how strong your aura is.”

Nino pushes himself upright. “Why is your uncle doing this? Do you know how this started?”

“I know he started this place a little over a hundred and fifty years ago, after he got into a fight with my father. They couldn’t agree on how to run the realm in Rio de Janeiro after Grandfather died, but since my father was the elder, he won. My tio decided he’d make his own ‘perfect realm’ somewhere new.”

Our race has become bastardized—marred with these first-, second- and third-generation creatures that reek of human blood…

The harsh words Lajos expressed during his visit to Kurashiki resurface in Nino’s mind. It seems the old vampire has succeeded in his goal. But to Nino, the result is questionable: faint auras, skittish and non-verbal servants and a one-eared henchman. Nino has never met purebreds like this. This realm seems far from perfect.

“Do you think the purebreds like living in this place?” Nino asks. “Are they happy?”

“Like I said, I haven’t spoken to anyone besides Kahla, and she can’t speak to me, so I don’t know. But as for me, I would like to leave as soon as possible. Tio thinks I’ll blab about his society if he lets me go. I don’t even know where the heck we are! So whatif I talk—what would I say? Who wants to talk about this place… Este lugar é um lixo. I want to quickly forget it.”

“Agreed.” Nino lays his head back, breathing a deep sigh. His incisors are throbbing, threatening to elongate on their own from want of blood. He’s hungry and tired, uncomfortable, and yearns for his mate to fill the excruciating void pulsing in his abdomen. He shivers from the damp, cold air of the room. It feels like the faded walls are closing in on him.

“Your condition is not good, honeycomb. When’s the last time you fed?”

Nino considers. This is his third day here. Before that, he hadn’t fed from Haruka in a few days—which isn’t like them, but things had gotten busy with Nino staying overnight in Osaka for business. “Almost a week.”

“Nada de bom. Your skin is looking gray. Are you cold? Should we cuddle?”

“No.”

“I can warm you up. I’m a little bony right now, but it could help?”

Nino closes his eyes again, concentrating on his inner nature and insulating himself with his own warmth. As the glow of it radiates, he thinks about his home—his and Haruka’s nest and the peace, love and security they’ve built there.

“I want to meet your mate.”

At the sound of Ladislao’s voice, Nino’s concentration breaks, but he keeps his eyes closed. Silent.

“I want to see this person that inspires such fidelity within you. So much so that I can’t even sit on the bed with you… This dirty velvet thing, ah! Tão desconfortável! Eu não gosto…”

Recognizing the pout in his voice, Nino bites back a grin. “You can sit on the bed—but stay at the foot, please.”

* * *

Hours later,Nino’s breathing is shallow. Faint. He lies motionless on his side. When he runs his tongue along his teeth, his incisors have sharpened of their own accord.

He needs to feed. His skin is dry—his insides too, as if he’s been lying out in the sun and all the life and nutrients are being siphoned from his body. Moving even an inch sends shockwaves of pain through Nino’s core and limbs.

“Ei, honeycomb, you need to drink the blood later tonight—you won’t last like this.” Despite Nino’s request, Ladislao is sitting just behind him and against the headboard, his long fingers flittering and stroking Nino’s hair. “You have to think of your mate. His survival is rooted in yours, amigo.” Even speaking takes energy that Nino can’t afford to expend.

Loud footfalls in the hallway make Ladislao jump up from his relaxed position. By the time the door swings open, he’s back on the ottoman at the end of the large bed. Using all the energy he can muster, Nino flares his aura outward. It’s weaker now—he can feel it. But it’ll still hold.

The footsteps draw closer as he lies with his cheek flat against the comforter.

“Time to go home.”

Nino lifts, slow, cautious. Lajos is standing over him, his black eyes emotionless. He lifts his cane and taps the glassy surface of Nino’s essence. His smile is eerie. “I cannot return you if you remain shielded from me, now can I?” The tall vampire with one ear walks up to stand just beside Lajos, his thin, pointed face cast in shadows.

Nino flicks his eyes toward Ladislao at the end of the bed, who then offers a slight shrug. The tension is thick in the silence, with everyone staring at Nino inside his bright orb.

“Well?” Lajos asks. “It is not my intention to keep you here. Not without your mate, anyway…”

Heart racing, pulse throbbing in his ears, Nino swallows. I have to get back home… He can’t survive much longer in this state. He doesn’t have a choice. Breathing in, he unfurls and withdraws the power of his aura, but the second it dissolves around him, the old vampire’s hand darts out, his fingers gripping Nino’s chin hard.

“Ah—”

Lajos’s eyes glow bright white as his face contorts in anger. Before Nino can process what’s happening, a hot, bubbling sensation swells within his mouth—as if it’s full of baking soda, vinegar and fire. He inhales from the discomfort and the space is unexpectedly hollow. Empty and bewildering. He tries to swallow but coughs, his chest rattling as he gags from the loss of something fundamental. Lajos removes his fingers from Nino’s face and an intense pressure pounds against his chest, knocking him back so that he tumbles off the opposite side of the bed.

“Tio, this is too much—”

“Keep your mouth shut or you’re next.”

Nino is coughing, choking and trying to breathe through the pain of the surprise attack. He rolls onto his back against the icy floor. When he opens his eyes, the one-eared vampire is menacing and towering over him. Nino lifts his arms, but there’s another intense slam against his ribs.

Then there’s nothing. Blackness and silence as his body goes limp.