Chapter 2
Chapter Two
NICOLO
He watched the pretty practitioner wrap the artifact in dark-blue silk before laying it in a flat black box lined in velvet. The man’s hands were nimble and careful, elegant. Nicolo had a thing for hands—they told a lot about a person, and Camden Russell was careful, meticulous, and loved his job.
The love for the job was in every careful step, from handling the artifacts to ringing up his credit card.
No rush, no push to buy more, to look for something more expensive.
Camden knew the wares well—and with very little to go on, had found the perfect artifact for Nicolo’s sire. His mamma was going to love it.
Camden was lovely, and Nicolo made sure not to stare too directly at the mortal, not wanting to scare him.
It was hard, though—Camden was exactly Nicolo’s type.
Slim and lean, shorter than Nicolo, but the perfect height to slip into his arms and tuck his head under Nicolo’s chin.
His black hair was kept short, brushed back from his face, thick and soft-looking, and he had the pale white skin of a man who spent a lot of time indoors, smooth and blemish-free.
A soft, generous mouth, pink lips ripe for kissing, and a face perfect for a painting of Adonis by one of the old masters finished off the masterpiece.
Camden pulled out a blank sheet of stationery with the shop’s emblem at the top, and he used an antique fountain pen to write out a few lines in careful script. He passed the sheet to Nicolo with a smile and went back to tying a gold ribbon around the box containing the artifact.
It was instructions for ‘introducing’ the new owner to the viper to make it safe to wear. In both English and Italian.
“You know Italian?” Nicolo asked, curious and touched. “Is my accent so noticeable? I have been here in this country for many years now and thought it lessened by exposure.”
“Your accent is beautiful, and I understand you perfectly,” Camden said with touching sincerity, charming Nicolo down to his toes.
“The spell can be invoked by anyone, no need to be a practitioner, but it was crafted originally in Italian. You’ll get the best results in that language.
” Camden pinked a little across his high cheekbones.
“And I know French, Latin, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, and some Hungarian and German. Many of the artifacts we have in the shop were made by people who didn’t speak English as a first language.
Knowing the language of origin for artifacts is best practice in my line of work. ”
“That is quite impressive,” Nicolo said, delighting in the bashful smile that lit up Camden’s face. “Grazie mille, Camden.”
“Prego,” Camden replied with an adorable blush, handing over the artifact in a black paper bag with handles, the shop’s emblem on the side in gold; thankfully, the bag was reinforced so it wouldn’t tear.
The artifact was heavy despite its small size—the weight of the viper was substantial, but not inconvenient for a vampire.
How a mortal human could bear to wear the solid gold viper necklace for any length of time was a bit of a mystery.
Perhaps more magic made it comfortable to wear.
The security guard was waiting by the door, presumably to let Nicolo out since he was done with his purchase. The expectation to leave was there, but Nicolo hesitated.
“Is there something else I can help you with?” Camden asked.
“I was wondering…” Nicolo set the bag on the counter and met Camden’s curious gaze. The practitioner was handsome—dark-brown eyes without guile met his, and he felt as if his long-quiet heart would begin beating again at any moment from nerves. “May I have your number?”
He could hear the skip in the beating of Camden’s heart, the quick and slight gasp of air through parted pink lips. His eyes widened, startled, but not put off by the question. “My number? Not the shop’s?”
He couldn’t step any closer due to the counter between them, but he wanted to. Camden smelled of freshly laundered clothes, a hint of leather and oil polish for metals, and the spice of attraction. “Your number. And, of course, I would love to give you mine.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out his phone, unlocking the screen, and he carefully held it out to Camden, who blushed pink.
He internally cheered when Camden took his phone and input his contact information.
Nicolo smiled wide when Camden promptly texted himself with Nicolo’s phone, and he heard the vibration of Camden’s phone in his pocket.
He accepted his phone back from Camden, delighted to see the practitioner’s number in his phone. “Grazie, Camden. May I text you later?”
“My shift ends in a few hours. We could go out for a drink? Though the weather is rather frightful.” Camden’s professional manner was replaced by an earnest sweetness that appealed to Nicolo deeply.
“The weather does not bother me,” Nicolo replied.
An understatement, really. The cold weather didn’t impact him a bit, though the heavy snow was annoying.
“Text me when you’re done for the evening?
There’s a lovely restaurant nearby, The Black Lamb, that serves dinner and drinks until dawn. No hour is too late to text me.”
Camden chuckled at his comment. “I will. A drink and a late dinner sounds lovely. Thank you.”
“I’ll see you later, then,” Nicolo picked up his bag from the counter and slowly walked away, unable to resist looking back at Camden a few times as he went to the doors.
The cute mortal gave him an impish smile and waved goodbye, making Nicolo chuckle in delight.
The security guard gave him a sharp look, as if to remind Nicolo to be careful, and Nicolo merely smiled and gave the guard a jaunty wave as he left the shop.
He stepped outside onto the snow-covered street, the wind howling, and went to the waiting town car idling down the street.
His driver got out and opened the rear door for him, and he slid inside just as his phone rang. The driver shut the door and got in himself before pulling into the minimal traffic.
He answered without looking at the caller ID, knowing exactly who was calling him. “Hello, Mamma.”
Priscilla Mancini was something of a Luddite, hating modern technology, but she was fond of her smartphone, as it let her keep tabs on her only child.
Nicolo didn’t mind—as far as sires went, Priscilla was an angel: caring, kind, and protective of her people, especially Nicolo.
She had yet to sire another vampire, telling Nicolo that she got it perfect on the first try, and there was no point in trying to replicate success. She was a bit outrageous.
“Are you done with your errand, my dear boy?” Her Italian accent was heavier than his and it always reminded him of home back in Italy—perhaps he could persuade Mamma into a trip back to the motherland after the holiday season.
“The weather is atrocious, I have no idea why you wanted to go shopping now of all times.”
“It’s just snow, Mamma,” Nicolo reassured her.
And he was not going to tell her that he was shopping for a present for her for the anniversary of her own Turning.
She loved to celebrate it every year, much like mortals and their birthdays.
She called it the day of her liberation—she cast off the shackles of mortal cultural expectations and was reborn a free soul as one of the sentient undead, with the strength and power to protect herself and chart her own path.
It was that ethos that led to her Turning Nicolo after centuries of being alone—she gave him the same freedoms she enjoyed, and gained a loving son, one she was denied as a mortal.
“And it was worth the trip in the bad weather. I have a date later tonight.” That would effectively distract her from his shopping trip.
“A date?” Priscilla gasped out, delighted. “Who with? Are they another vampire? Mortal? Perhaps a handsome High Court Sidhe with boundless wealth and magic who wants an outrageous mother-in-law?”
Nicolo chuckled and shook his head at his mother’s antics. “Mortal practitioner. I met him at one of the shops I went to; we’re meeting at The Black Lamb for a late supper and drinks.”
“How lovely,” she sighed, dramatic and teasing. “A pub for a first date.”
“Mamma!” he groaned, dropping his head back on the seat. “It’s casual and low pressure, and public as well, so he will feel safe and not worry about me having any nefarious expectations.”
“That would have been a coffee date, dearest, not a late night in a pub,” Priscilla chided him with a teasing lilt, and he rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “Do be a gentleman and remember to pull out his chair for him, and don’t forget that mortals can get drunk, so don’t over-imbibe.”
“Yes, Mamma.”
He was over five hundred years old and she still treated him like a child sometimes. It came from a place of fondness and affection, so he let it slide. They chatted about inconsequential things for a bit and then they said goodnight.
“Back to the Tower, sir?” Gary, his driver, asked once he hung up the phone.
“Yes, please. I need to change for my date and drop off Mamma’s present in my rooms. I can’t have her see what it is before her party.”
He sent a text to Camden as they headed back to the Tower in downtown Boston.
Still on for drinks and dinner? Can’t wait!—Nicolo
A few moments passed and then he got a reply, making him grin.
I can’t wait! See you at The Black Lamb! My shift ends at 11pm.—Camden
11:30pm okay? Is that enough time?—Nicolo
That’s perfect! See you then!—Camden
CAMDEN
“A customer? Really? You’ve never said yes to a customer asking you out before. What was so different this time?”