The Vanishing by Karla Nikole

Junichi

I’m too close to home for this shit. I shouldn’t be doing this.

Walking down the long hallway, I can smell the doctor already. It’s faint, but still strong enough to cut through the abundance of antiseptic and bleach, latex gloves, scratchy cotton gowns and all the other typical hospital smells assaulting my senses.

Humans are humans. I like them. I’ve had a bunch and they’re pretty much all the same. But something about this doctor stirs me. Ever since I laid eyes on him, something’s been nagging me, and I need to know why the hell.

My father would kill me. Literally. If he knew about the things I’ve done… the things I want to do right now to this inexplicable doctor. He’d rather see me dead than fraternizing with humans and low-level vamps—recklessly jeopardizing the one half of my “elite, purebred Takayama bloodline.”

Lucky for me, though, the old bastard is dead. Now all I have to do is manage my constant, addictive desire to feed from my evil-harpy purebred source. I have my father to thank for that bullshit. For attaching me to a monster, thinking I would bond with it.

I should not be doing this.

Moving down the hallway, I turn the corner and see that the doctor’s office door is open. Two weeks I’ve been flirting with this male. No tangible progress made. If anything, he’s getting a little agitated, which, in and of itself, is intriguing—the slow evaporation of some politically correct mask he’s been wearing.

It’s confusing, because Doctor Davies hasn’t told me to fuck off, either. Hasn’t said he’s engaged or doesn’t like men. Hasn’t tried to call security… not that calling security would solve anything. The doctor isn’t saying yes but he isn’t saying no, either. He’s told me he’s busy, but it’s not like he’s always busy. He has to eat at some point, so why not with me?

This is going to sound arrogant, but he’s a challenge and I find that a little exciting. I haven’t had someone brush me off like this in a long while—if ever. At a hundred and thirty years old, not much excites me anymore.

I’m carrying a singular textbook in my hand—which is ridiculous, but I have a point. I grip the doorframe with my free hand and peek inside the office. Doctor Davies is reading something at his desk. There’s a window behind him and the bright morning sunlight is pouring over his back. He looks like a damn angel. His scent is just as sweet and heavenly.

I walk into the room, then sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. I smile and speak in polite Japanese. “Good morning, Doctor J. Davies.” I place the textbook at the edge of his desk. Waiting.

The doctor keeps his gaze focused on the file in front of him. “Please bring back all of my books next time?”

“If I do that, I won’t have a reason to visit you.” I sit back, bringing my leg up to cross my ankle at my knee. “Just think of me as a bespoke delivery man—returning your precious books one at a time.”

The doctor breathes a laugh and rolls his eyes, pulling his glasses from his face. He has a nice smile. His warm skin tone reminds me of buttermilk.

“See?” I smile, watching him. “I make you laugh. Tell me your first name and have dinner with me.” I could easily find his name. Easily. But where’s the fun in that?

Doctor Davies looks up at me, staring. His eyes are chestnut brown and shaped like sideways raindrops. He doesn’t speak. Angelic and expressionless. I look at the ambiguous name placard on his desk. It reads Doctor J. Davies, M.D.

“Is it… John?” I ask.

“No.”

“Jeremy.”

“No.”

“Juan? Juan-José? Juan-Manuel?”

“What?”

“I could look it up online.” I fold my arms. “Or ask someone. But it would be much more personable and meaningful to our story if you told me yourself.”

The doctor shakes his head. “It’s not online. We don’t have a story.”

“We could.” I smile. “‘Once upon a time, I asked Doctor Davies to dinner and he said yes. Little did he know, it was only the beginning.’”

At this, the doctor inhales a deep breath and blows it out. The action makes his subtle scent waft out at me. I blink my eyes, trying to ignore how lovely it smells. So fucking weird.

“How can you just waltz in here every week?” he asks. “This isn’t a coffee shop. Why are you hounding me?”

Seriously? I’m staring at this bewildered male with deep golden-blonde hair framed in bright sunlight. “You’re beautiful,” I say.

He blinks and draws back in his chair, looking off to the side as if I couldn’t have been talking to him. As if there was some secret third person in the room that I’d missed.

“And obviously intelligent,” I go on. “Driven. Why wouldn’t I be ‘hounding’ you? I’d be a fool not to. So have dinner with me… Is my maleness distasteful to you? Is that it?”

“No—I…” The doctor reaches up and scratches his head, mistrust coloring his eyes. “You want sex, right? I’m human, so you couldn’t possibly want to feed from me. You’re too high level. So if we have sex, you’ll feel satisfied and move on?”

Dios mío. Now I draw back. What the hell? Where is the fun in cutting to the chase like this? The best part of a new romantic partner is the seduction—and I’m good at that part. Why is he fucking it up? “Doctor J., this isn’t a hostage negotiation. It’s just dinner. Does dinner equate to sex in your world? Is it squeezed in between the appetizers and main course? Between the bread rolls and the salad? Sounds kinky. Messy.”

He watches me for another moment like he’s struggling with something. I’m thinking I should just pull the plug on this. Clearly, he isn’t interested, so I should get up and leave.

The doctor takes a deep breath and slides his handsome glasses back onto his face. “Come to my house next Friday. I’m on call, but I’ll be home after seven.”

“Your house?” I ask, my eyebrow raised. “Are you making me dinner then?”

“Sure, that’s what I’m doing.”

“Doctor Davies. Why are you trying so hard to deflect my sincere advances?”

He blinks at me as if I’ve asked him a stupid question. “I’m human. You’re a ranked vampire and I don’t understand what you want from me. And I’m busy. I’m a full-time doctor. How many times—Should I say it in another language?”

We’ve been speaking in polite Japanese, but I feel wicked. “Sure. Say it in English.”

“Because I’m too busy for your puffed-up vampire bullshit.”

Silence. Not a single sound in the room and I’m speechless. He said the phrase perfectly, nuanced with an airy British accent. I unfold my leg and lean forward, as if doing so will help me discern something deeper.

Who is this human? Why does he smell like this, and why does he vaguely resonate within my nature? Pulling me toward him as if a fishing line is hooked into my navel.

I shake my head. This is not part of the seduction, but I can’t help myself. I respond in English, narrowing my eyes. “What are you?”

Doctor Davies straightens his back and blinks. Expressionless. “Boku wa isha desu.”

I’m a doctor. The intercom buzzes. The doctor presses a button and speaks into it, telling his nurse he’s on the way. When the phone clicks off, he stands, somewhat frantic. “Shit.” Again, perfect English as he whirls around to grab his brown leather backpack from the floor behind his desk. He weaves his arms through the straps, checks his watch and moves toward the door.

I turn, dumbfounded. “You’re not going to give me your cell number or address? Your first name?”

He glances over his shoulder as he moves. “Ask Sora at the nurse’s desk.” Then he’s gone. Only the subtle and sweet scent of him remains.

“Why the fuck is he being so weird?” It’s not like I’m asking him to do my business taxes or help me move into a third-floor apartment without an elevator. It’s just dinner, dammit.

I sigh, standing and walking out of the office and down the hall toward Sora at the nurse’s station. When I’m there, she smiles, setting her elbows against the low desk and cradling her chin in her palms.

“Hello, Jun.”

Pretty female. She’s bonded, of course. But she wears these red cat-eye glasses that complement her narrow face. “Hey, Sora. How are you? Kids alright?”

“I’m great. The kids are with their father. God save him. Are you here on official business? Or are you returning another book?”

“Returning books is official business, so I’m not sure what you mean.” I fold my arms and lean against the high counter, grinning. “Can you please give me Doctor J.’s address? He’d rather I ship the books to his home.”

“Right.” Sora smirks, pushing her glasses up her nose. She sits straight, her fingers tapping in a rapid motion against her keyboard as she focuses on the monitor. “You don’t mind humans at all, do you, Junichi?”

She’s asked the question casually, but the insinuation is heavy. I keep my response innocuous. Last thing I need is rumors spreading around the aristocracy. “I encounter and work with humans on a regular basis—both here and abroad. I’m accustomed to them.”

“Doctor J. is sweet—and he’s weirdly cute. For a human.” She grabs a sticky note and pen, writing down the address. “He was an excellent hire for the hospital—you should be pleased. He’s very popular with the low-level vamps that come in to see him. I think being around higher-ranked vamps like us makes him nervous for some reason. It’s been three months since he started, but he’s still prickly with me sometimes.”

I raise my eyebrow. “You call him Doctor J. as well? I keep asking but he won’t tell me his name.”

Sora looks up at me, blinking her dark brown eyes. “That’s his name, Junichi. It’s spelled J-A-E, as in the Korean iteration. Doctor Jae Davies.”

I rub my palm into the top of my head and scoff. I’ve been calling this heinous male by his name the entire time. For two weeks he said nothing.

Incredible. This curious, delicious little doctor. Despite myself, I’m genuinely looking forward to seeing him again next week. It’s been a very long time since I looked forward to something.

* * *

Thank you for reading!

The third book in the Lore and Lust series,

The Awakening, will be released in the Fall of 2021.