The Vanishing by Karla Nikole

Seven

After thirty hours of flights, layovers and amicable silence, Cellina and Giovanni arrive at the Kurashiki estate.

They follow behind Haruka’s manservant as he guides them down an elegant hardwood hallway, passing sliding doors painted with beautiful sumi-e artwork.

“He’s not listening to me,” Asao complains, his voice gruff. “He hasn’t slept or set foot outside his library in the past forty-eight hours, and he doesn’t want to call the police—says they’re useless.”

He opens a sliding paper door to reveal a breezeway. A warm rush of muggy spring air caresses Cellina’s skin. They step outside. She glances over at the grassy, rain-soaked garden and small koi pond as they walk along the veranda. There’s a massive Japanese maple tree in the center with rich maroon leaves. Haruka and Nino’s home feels like a Zen retreat for spiritual meditation. Peaceful, natural and breathtaking.

“No new developments in two days?” Giovanni asks. “He can only tell that Nino is still alive and nothing else?”

“Yeah,” Asao says, opening a door and gesturing for them to step into another hallway. “He’s alive but far away. He can’t surmise anything else. I know human police are incompetent in vampire matters, but we should contact that second-gen detective that was working on Ladislao’s vanishing. The one in America.”

Giovanni shakes his head. “I don’t know… I think we should keep this private for now. See if we can handle it on our own.”

Cellina agrees. “Everyone has just calmed down from Ladislao’s vanishing. This will create a new wave of widespread panic if it gets out. I think I met that detective once when I was in New York. Anika Cuevas. I remember she had very strong opinions.”

“And you don’t?” Giovanni glances at her, raising his eyebrow.

“This isn’t about me, though.”

Asao guides them down another short, glossy hardwood hallway. This area of the estate is more compact, like a small residence unto itself—a guest house.

“You should have heard this Lajos asshole,” the manservant mutters. “Everything he said was either arrogant or bigoted. I didn’t know purebreds like that still existed. Crusty old bastard.”

In very old times, purebreds were arrogant and bigoted—callous in lording over ranked vampires, using them and putting their own wants and needs above anyone else’s. It’s one reason why Cellina adores Nino.

Her friend is like the anti-purebred. Innocent, thoughtful and kind. When his mother died, he’d been so distraught that he’d hidden himself away and refused to feed or interact with anyone—as if he’d wanted to die himself. So, at sixteen, Cellina offered to become his feeding source. That hadn’t been the original plan, but she’s never once regretted her decision… despite the upset it caused between herself and a certain domineering male.

Asao stops in front of a set of double sliding doors. He reaches down and pulls them apart as if manually opening an elevator. There’s a library inside, washed with natural but overcast light from the cloudy sky. Cellina glances around. The space would be superb if it wasn’t a complete and utter mess.

There are books everywhere—opened, closed, stacked, discarded. Papers and scrolls are spread out all over the tatami flooring. A low table in a corner is covered with old newspapers, some having fallen over the edge.

Amidst all this chaos is Haruka. He wears a traditional robe, his very long hair a mess and shoved away from his face, haphazardly tied behind his head. He flickers his burgundy eyes up at them for a moment before focusing back down on whatever he’s reading. He turns a page.

“Haruka—Cellina and Giovanni came to help.” Asao waits. Haruka scratches his head, unspeaking and with his eyes still on the book. He turns another page.

At this, Asao practically growls, losing whatever patience he’s been holding on to. “You’re scared, I get that. But you said Nino is alive, so you can’t sit here and internalize everything on your own. These two came to help you and—”

“Help me do what?” Haruka looks up, his eyes the pinnacle of stress. They’re weighted with dark circles and his complexion is too pale. He looks terrible. “I do not know where Nino is. He has vanished into thin air and I cannot do anything to reverse what has been done. There are no records of this purebred anywhere—where he lives, his ability, his realm, his lineage—nothing!”

He presses his palms to his face, dragging them upward and into his disheveled hair as his speech hastens, frenzied. “And this is my doing—I am responsible for protecting my mate. I was overconfident and lazy, and I allowed this miscreant into our home without knowing enough about him and what he was capable of, and now my mate is—”

With a few strides of his long legs, Giovanni closes the distance to reach Haruka. He places a large hand atop his head, and the woodsy, gingery warmth of his aura radiates outward. It settles around them in a soft glow as Giovanni crouches down in front of Haruka. “First, you’re going to calm down. Then, we’re going to sit in the kitchen and have some coffee—tea, whatever. We’re going to talk about this rationally. Understood?”

Cellina walks forward just in time to see Haruka nod underneath Giovanni’s palm. After Giovanni stands and releases him, Haruka smooths a hand over his messy hair, clenching his eyes shut. Cellina takes Giovanni’s place, lowering herself to rest on her knees in front of him. She frowns, examining his weary expression. “Are you in physical pain?”

He shakes his head, eyes still closed. “It does not matter.” He inhales a shaky breath and opens his eyes to meet her gaze. “You both entrusted me with him and I… I have failed you.”

Leaning forward, Cellina wraps her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t say that. He’s alive—we’ll get him back. Let’s go in the kitchen and talk, alright?” She releases him and rises to her feet. “Please? Will you stand?”

She reaches her hands out toward him. After a moment of hesitation, Haruka grasps them, allowing her to help pull him up from the tatami floor. When he’s standing, she clasps one of his hands warmly within hers and they all move to leave the library.

* * *

“I toldmy father the name Lajos Almeida, and he recognized it.” Giovanni takes a long sip of his coffee as they sit at the kitchen table. The patio doors are cracked open. Cellina can hear the soft drizzle of rain hitting the courtyard pavement like a subtle soundtrack to their conversation.

Haruka stares at his teacup. He hasn’t touched it, but the heat of it swirls and dances in the shadowy light. He flicks his eyes up at Giovanni. “In what way?”

“A long time ago—he said maybe two hundred years? Father was young. This was before he’d even met our mother. A vampire with the name Lajos Almeida requested a visit with him, claiming he was doing research.

“Father said he remembered it because he’d never met a purebred with such dogmatic, harsh views on ranked vampires. He said it disturbed him and that Lajos was obviously trying to get a feel for whether they shared the same views. Father didn’t—his best friend, Andrea, is Cellina’s father, a first-generation male he grew up with in Milan.”

The image of Cellina’s handsome, dark-haired father flashes in her mind. He and Domenico—Nino and Giovanni’s father—had been like brothers until Domenico fell ill and hid himself away. Her father often talks about how much he misses him, but Domenico has been refusing all outside guests for decades.

Giovanni takes another quick sip of his coffee. “Father said the meeting was uncomfortable, so he wrapped things up fast and sent the purebred on his way. He never thought anything else about him.”

“Lajos said…” Haruka pauses, thinking. “That he has created a ‘pure and perfect’ society where there are no ranked vampires. Was he trying to recruit your father at that time?”

Giovanni shrugs. “It’s possible. Father said he never heard from him again.”

“What Lajos did to Nino,” Cellina chimes in, “is how they describe the Vanishing in history books. Do you think Lajos had something to do with the Great Vanishing?”

They all pause, their eyes flickering to one another. Asao huffs from the counter behind them. “Shady old bastard.”

“If he was recruiting,” says Haruka, his eyes doggedly tired but bright for the first time since they sat at the table, “does this mean that those disappeared vampires still exist somewhere? And that perhaps they volunteered to be part of this new realm?”

“I don’t know about volunteering,” Asao pipes up again, folding his arms. “Think about Sora Fujihara’s father. He was purebred, but happily mated with a first-gen female. I don’t think he would have agreed to go to some purist society and abandon his partner and child.”

Haruka exhales. “Right… yes. In the historic records detailing those impacted by the Vanishing, there are similar cases of disappeared purebreds who were bonded with ranked vampires—but just a few. If their views were so conservative, they would not have mated with creatures of mixed blood.”

Sadness weighs heavy in Cellina’s heart. The ranked vampires left behind had all died within a few weeks of their mates disappearing. While it’s difficult to survive a mate’s death in a bond, it’s impossible for a ranked vampire bonded with a purebred. After being conditioned to consume such potent, rich blood, their bodies can’t survive without it—like being perilously addicted to a drug.

Giovanni sits back against the chair, bringing his fingers up to massage the center of his forehead. “This shit is unbelievable. Look—Lajos took Nino because he wants Lore and Lust, right?”

“Yes,” Haruka confirms.

“He told you to calm down and reconsider, so he’ll be back.”

Asao nods in agreement. “That’s what I said.”

“So when he comes back, we’ll demand that he return Nino.” Giovanni opens his eyes to look at Haruka. “In exchange, you’ll give him the book. Do you have a problem parting with the manuscript?”

“Of course not,” Haruka breathes, exasperated. “If I could have fathomed that Lajos would go this far, he could have taken the book from the beginning. None of this is necessary—this barbaric and guerrilla style of negotiation. What century are we in? And when he was taken, Nino had not fed from me in a few days. How can someone who proclaims to have such high regard for purebreds simultaneously treat us with such contempt? To separate a bonded couple by force?”

“Hypocrite bastard.” Asao scowls. “He gives us old guys a bad name, you know? Get with the damn times.”

Giovanni leans with his elbows against the table and focuses on Haruka once more. “Asao said he hasn’t informed anyone in your realm about this. What have you been communicating to them? Who’s handling Nino’s business appointments? And yours?”

Haruka blinks, emotionless. He’s looking at Giovanni as if he’s a brick wall. “That is the furthest thing from my mind.”

“No one,” Asao answers. “Everything has just been paused for the past two days. I’ve made as many calls as I can to apologize, but things are getting suspicious. They can’t keep no-showing appointments without an explanation like this. It’s social suicide—and they’ve only been establishing themselves for a year.”

Cellina frowns. “Nino has worked so hard to get his Osaka and Kyoto contacts secured and confident in his ability.” Every time they talk, he gives her thorough updates about his progress. Nino loves his new work and position. The singular entity that excites him more is the distraught vampire sitting beside her.

Giovanni focuses his sharp eyes on her again. Cellina swallows.

“How much work can you miss?” he asks.

“Work is slow now, but my schedule toward the middle of summer is crazy. It doesn’t matter—I’ll make it work until Nino is back here and safe.”

“I have associates that can handle some of my meetings, but I have to leave in a month to check on Father. I can come back after that if needed. Let’s look at their schedules and talk about covering their appointments. Divvy up what we can. What do you think?”

Cellina nods. She wants to help, even if it means working with Giovanni and constantly ignoring the elephant that follows them around like a shared pet. As long as they keep things surface level and focus on the work, it’ll be fine. “Let’s do it. I’m in.”

“We can tell the vamps of your realm that the two of you are busy with an important, confidential project,” Giovanni asserts. “We did that with Father in the early days of his illness, when we were keeping it a secret that Mom had starved in the war. Nobody questioned it when I started taking over—for years. So that should settle any unrest within your community.”

“Sounds good to me.” Asao stands from the counter and moves toward the wide doorway. “Let me show you where your rooms are. You two get settled and I’ll start dinner.”

Giovanni pushes up from the table. Cellina as well, but they both pause. Their eyes trail down to Haruka. He sits hunched with his elbows against the wooden surface, palms rubbing his face. The mug of tea sitting in front of him is cold and full.

Misery. The blackness radiates from him in waves. Cellina has witnessed these raw, visceral emotions from another vampire in her life. She’d been young. When she thinks back to that particular day, the sadness she feels and the burden of it still sit like a rock in her chest.

Cellina looks up at the broad male standing across from her. The male responsible for that weight.