The Vanishing by Karla Nikole

Thirty-Three

Ginger… and oak.

Cellina inhales, smiling as she lies half asleep in bed, warmth and shadow covering her like a wonderful, comforting blanket. It gives her a sense of peace and calm. Security.

A soft kiss on her cheek makes her eyes flicker open. Giovanni is there—handsome, broad and silent as he leans over her body. He’s resting on his elbows above her and sitting on the side of the bed. Cellina grins. “Luce dei miei occhi.”

“Perché non mi hai chiamato?” he says, his brow furrowed. She reaches up, rubbing her fingertips against his forehead.

Why didn’t you call me? “Stop frowning,” she scolds, groggy. “You frown too much… like a… very sexy Shar Pei.”

He takes hold of her wrist, his eyes serious. “Don’t ever do this. If you need anything from me, tell me. I love you more than you can imagine—whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. Do you understand?”

Ignoring the rush of heat flooding her cheeks, she snarks, “Is that an official mandate? As my realm leader.”

“Feed.” He sits straight, tugging her upright with him.

“What about Domenico?” She rubs her eyes, wondering how utterly insane she must look with her hair standing up all over the place and her dry-ass skin. She makes a weak attempt to quell her frizzy curls. It’s pointless.

He cups her face with his large palm. The warmth of his touch sends sparks down her neck and all throughout her body. She closes her eyes, indulging.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Giovanni pleads, his husky voice quiet in the darkness. “Just feed.”

Cellina opens her eyes and stares into his chiseled face. “What if I feed from you and we bond. It happened to Haruka and Nino. First time.”

Giovanni shakes his head. “They’re weird.”

Laughing, she brings her palms up, rubbing her face and feeling her skin flake. “Not weird. It’s romantic.”

“It’s weird,” Giovanni says, a smile behind his voice.

Cellina considers for a moment, then nods and places her fingertips to the center of his chest, urging him to lie down against the bed. Understanding, Giovanni kicks off his shoes, then brings his legs up. He rests on his back and Cellina crawls forward to straddle his hips. She settles down and immediately feels the distinct hardness of Giovanni’s shaft through his jeans.

She rests her palms at his waist, then slides her hands underneath his cotton shirt to feel the warmth of his toned, naked abdomen. “But what if I have you a second time before I feed from you? What then?” she asks.

Giovanni lifts his hips, adjusting his arousal underneath her. He brings his large hands to her waist, then slides them down to cup the curve of her naked ass underneath her oversized nightshirt. “You can feed first, then have me a second time.” He smiles, then furrows his brow. “You really never wear underwear?”

“Especially not to bed. Only sociopaths wear underwear to bed.”

“That’s… nottrue.”

Cellina laughs, devilish in urging his shirt up until he grabs the hem. He lifts his torso and yanks it over his head. Giovanni’s muscled body is beautiful in the moonlight and she is mesmerized by him: the scent of him and the devotion in his words and actions.

He’s always giving of himself. It’s his character and moral foundation. Who he is as a well-groomed purebred vampire. If she can, she wants to give something to him for once. Something innate and good that she alone can give.

“Can I pull your aura?” she asks.

He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he caresses his fingertips up and down her thighs. “You can do whatever you want with me. I feel like this is a dream that I’m going to wake up from any minute.”

She leans down, stretching the length of her body to press her chest into his. He sighs a deep, throaty sound as she rests her elbows on either side of his head, her face just above his. “It’s not a dream,” she whispers. “I love you, Giovanni Bianchi.”

His hands move up her spine, exposing her naked backside to the coolness of the night air in the room. “You love me…” He grins, innocent, almost childlike.

“Yeah,” she says. “And I missed you. Very much.”

Leaning into his neck, she licks his skin to taste him first. Warm and spicy. Delicious. Her eyes glow to life as she bites down into him, the rush of his blood on her tongue peppery and complex. More fulfilling than any other vampire she’s ever tasted.

His blood is like a drug, euphoric as it goes straight to her head. She moans as one large hand holds her shoulder blade and the other grips her ass. She pulls hard at his flesh, sensing the deep, innate barrier of Giovanni’s purebred aura. Cellina has never released a purebred vampire’s aura before, but she knows it takes mental focus and emotional determination. Two things she is well equipped with.

Steadying herself against his hips, she braces her hands above his head. Cellina focuses her mind on the selfless and strong male underneath her and sucks as hard as she can. She thinks about how long she’s wanted him—to touch him, comfort him and make him smile. To let him know he doesn’t have to handle everything alone, that she’ll stand by him. That they can stand by each other.

Giovanni’s body arches, his grip tightening. She pulls hard once more and he breathes, cursing. The rush and power of his aura releasing is stunning: a wild haze of vivid green light. She sits upright as it surrounds them, her heart dancing in her chest. Cellina closes her eyes, enjoying the fierce, shimmering energy as it swirls and pulses like a sandstorm of crushed emeralds.

After a moment, the intense sensation dissipates. They’re both silent—only the sound of Giovanni’s labored breathing underneath her straddle litters the quiet. He brings his palms to his face, covering a broad smile. “Holy fucking shit.”

Cellina brushes her wild hair back, then works to unfasten his pants. “Nice job for a first try, right?”

“Whatever my father says or does to me tomorrow, it’s worth it.”

She lifts herself and tugs at his waist to urge his pants down. “Let’s make it count?”

* * *

Something about the night,being alone together in the darkened vacuum of Cellina’s room, just the two of them… It makes them confident. Fearless.

In the morning, Cellina wakes first. She is shrouded within the embrace of a rather large, naked, muscled and gingery-smelling male. Giovanni’s skin is warm but soft—the fuzzy golden-brown hairs of his firm body tickling hers from top to bottom. His chest is pressed into the length of her spine. His groin at her ass and his thick legs tangled with hers.

To be clear, it is glorious: this man-blanket situation. If she’d realized the goodness of it sooner, maybe she would have tried to purchase one online.

His hold is secure, but she wiggles and turns herself in his grasp. He adjusts, feeling her intention and helping her face him. When she does, his eyes are still closed. Cellina examines him—the way the sunlight reveals the subtle shadow accumulating on his square jaw, how it highlights the golden undertones of his messy brown hair. His forehead is smooth, his face relaxed in a way she hasn’t seen since they were very young.

“Smettila di fissarmi.”

Cellina stifles a laugh. Giovanni’s voice is low and thick with sleep. His eyes are still closed, but a warm smile forms on his lips. Stop staring.

“I’ve been ignoring you for decades.” Cellina grins, nuzzling into him. “I need to make up for lost time.”

“You keep looking at me so hard, I’m scared you’re going to change your mind about this.”

She reaches up and pinches his nose shut, making him open his eyes and draw his head back in a startled snort. “Now that I have your full attention,” she says, “don’t be stupid. I won’t change my mind. Ever.”

He leans into her once more, pulling her even tighter into his warmth and rubbing his lips against her forehead. “Please don’t change your mind,” he whispers. He kisses the line down her nose, so soft and tender that it gives Cellina a rush of goosebumps across her skin. When he hovers over her lips, brushing his full ones over hers, he says, “My heart couldn’t take it.”

She lifts her chin, kissing him hard—with everything. He meets her tenacity, shifting so that he’s on top of her with his weight resting on her chest, belly and hips. He’s heavy and divine, hard and thick between her gaped thighs. Giovanni lifts from the kiss, his eyes glowing green magnificence. Regal. “May I feed again?”

Cellina breathes a laugh, wrapping her palms against the small of his back. “You’re just going to town now?”

“Might as well…” He gives a weak shrug. He smiles, but something shadowed crosses his expression. “Don’t know when or if I can ever do this again. Please?”

“Of course you can.” Cellina moves her arms up, sliding her fingers into his hair. “Try not to be so disheartened. We’ll talk to Domenico together, alright? We’ll figure this out.”

He nods as he leans into her, his eyes focused on her as if she’s his first and last meal. His only hope. Cellina draws her knees up to cradle Giovanni’s heavy body and he licks her neck. At the same time he sinks his teeth into her, he slides his large palm down the side of her body, settling it in the curve of her waist and stroking his thumb against her skin.

Cellina breathes as he takes, closing her eyes. Before when he fed, the thoughts were loving but desperate—wild with hunger and need. Now, his mind feels calm. There’s gratitude flowing within her, lovingly swirled with something more. Reverence? It makes Cellina’s heart warm and her skin tingle.

She relaxes, opening her mind and body to him completely. At that moment, a deep wave rocks her entire psyche. It’s dizzying, as if she’s been struck with a severe case of vertigo. He pulls up from her neck, and before she can gather her senses, the cool rush of her nature expands within her, making her eyes shine bright silver.

Giovanni’s weight on top of her stiffens—the rich emerald-green haze of his aura intensifying around them. The pleasing scent of him consumes her as it grips her frame, but Cellina’s own nature fans out like starlight. She’s never seen her own unique aura manifest outside her body like this. As a first-gen, she has purebred blood within her, but she’s incapable of wielding and manipulating it as purebreds sometimes do.

Her essence melts into Giovanni’s—the image of it reminding her of a lava lamp. Slow, graceful and hypnotic before it bursts and shimmers. It pours into the emerald haze, intense and silvery before the fusion of their two auras cocoons their bodies.

The moment is dazzling, but lasts just a few seconds. The light dissipates, taking refuge in both their bodies as if by osmosis. Her nature is settling within her, but it’s warm and melty throughout her core. Different somehow. Reassuring. Even stronger. And something about Giovanni… The feel and scent of him are there, too. Inside of her.

Giovanni lifts up from her body, his eyes still glowing bright and his face a mix of just about every emotion possible. His mind is a complete mess: joy, relief, fear, intense guilt, worry. Somehow, she feels all of it.

Cellina places her hands on either side of her mate’s face and takes a deep breath. “We definitely need to speak with your father. Now.”