Chapter 2 #2
Cressida Hughes was his overnight coworker, and she was a vampire as well, though not as old as most of the vampires in Boston tended to be—less than a year Turned, and she had been a blood donor at the Tower for several years before being Turned.
She was an outlier in blood donor circles—she had worked at Res Antiquae for years before Camden started working there right out of college, whereas most blood donors were employed at the Tower.
Their role was to literally feed the hundreds of vampires who were members of the Boston Bloodclan.
“He was effortlessly charming, and he listened to me,” Camden answered. He paused, pulling on his overcoat and tugging on his long wool scarf. “Nicolo Barbarigo. Do you know him?”
Her brows went up to her hairline, and she blinked at him in surprise.
“I don’t know him well, he’s several hundred years old, and his sire is even older, one of the oldest unranked masters in the clan.
I never had the honor of feeding him, but I did feed his sire, Priscilla Mancini, a few times.
They’re both decent people, rather eccentric, and kind to their donors. ”
“That’s good to know,” Camden said, fussing with his coat and scarf, eyeing the clock in the break room in the back of the shop. “We’re meeting at The Black Lamb for dinner and drinks.”
“How cozy,” she replied. “He’s loaded—make sure he buys.”
He rolled his eyes at her comment and headed out front, Cressida following him out onto the sales floor.
“Goodnight, Cressida,” he called over his shoulder. Darrell was waiting to open the door for him. “Goodnight, Darrell.”
“Mind the sidewalks, sir, it’s killer out there,” Darrell said, holding the security door open.
“Thank you, I will.”
The rideshare car was waiting for him, and he confirmed the license plate and driver before getting in the back of the car, brushing snow off his head. The snow was coming down thick and fast.
The driver gave him a brief hello and began the drive to the pub. Snow crunched under the tires, and Camden worried that the streets might be too bad for the short drive, but the car had bespelled all-season tires and didn’t lose traction.
The trip took longer than usual due to the weather, but there was minimal traffic at that hour and they reached the pub just before the arranged time. Camden tipped the driver extra and got out carefully, the sidewalk covered in snow.
A bare hand appeared in front of him and he gratefully took the help, gripping ice-cold fingers as firm as stone. He found his footing on the slick sidewalk and stood beside Nicolo as he shut the car door for him. “Thanks.”
Camden blushed when Nicolo lifted his hand to his lips and softly kissed his knuckles. “My pleasure.” Nicolo then tucked Camden’s hand into the crook of his elbow and gestured to the front of the pub, where the lights glowed invitingly. “Shall we? I have a booth already.”
“Yes, please.”
Holding onto a vampire for balance was like holding onto a mountain—he had zero fear of slipping and falling. Nicolo felt like a marble statue come to life, all chiseled muscle under his fingers, and he couldn’t resist holding on a bit tighter.
Nicolo got the door as well, ushering Camden inside, the host ready and waiting to help take their coats and winter gear. Camden was thankful the inside of the upscale pub was warm, a fireplace on the far wall cheerily burning away, illuminating the cozy tables and deep booths.
Nicolo led the way to their seats, a booth along the same wall as the fireplace, and he waited until Camden slid into the seat before sitting himself.
The restaurant smelled amazing, and the warmth and low lighting gave the place a homey, comfortable atmosphere.
There were a few other patrons, but they weren’t seated close enough to hear and the classical music playing softly over the sound system helped maintain privacy for conversation.
The Black Lamb was a bit pricey, but the food and ambiance were worth the expense.
The waiter came immediately, carrying a glass pitcher of water to fill Camden’s glass before taking Nicolo’s away. Camden frowned and then he felt a bit silly when he remembered. Vampires didn’t eat solid foods, and water did nothing for them.
“Will me eating in front of you be a problem? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Nicolo shook his head. “It won’t bother me in the least. They have vampire-friendly items on the menu.”
“That’s good, I’m glad. I didn’t want you to feel left out if I was eating.”
Nicolo looked amazing in a dark-blue suit that accentuated his pale skin, bright silver eyes, and the burnished red-gold of his hair.
He wore the suit without a tie, the white shirt unbuttoned at his throat, and silver cufflinks with diamonds winked from his wrists.
He caught Camden looking and smiled, revealing sharp fangs.
Camden shivered a bit, but not with fear.
He wasn’t afraid of being bitten—the structured magic from spellcasting in practitioner blood was poison to the sentient undead.
Unless the vampire was soul-bonded with a practitioner, and that only happened where true love grew and blossomed.
The bond cycled the structured magic out of the practitioner’s blood once consumed and sent it back along the bond to the practitioner, leaving the blood safe for the vampire to consume.
Despite knowing he was safe from being bitten, the thought appealed to him.
He’d heard about how enjoyable it could be to be fed from, ranging from languid sensations of relaxation to orgasmic, explosive pleasure.
As a practitioner, such an experience was denied to him, unless he happened to mutually fall in love with a vampire.
He was attracted to Nicolo but they were on a date, far from falling in love.
The idea of it didn’t put him off, though.
He was open to seeing if this connection went somewhere.
“How was the rest of your evening?” Nicolo asked after they gave the waiter their drink orders.
“Slow and quiet,” Camden shared, sipping his water. “The weather kept all but the most determined shoppers from our doors. You were the only patron I had on my shift.”
“How lucky I am that you were there when I decided to brave the elements,” Nicolo said. “My reward for bravery was meeting you.” Camden grinned at the blatant line, delivered so smoothly. Nicolo grinned in return, making Camden chuckle.
“How was your evening? Did you give the viper to your sire?” Camden asked.
“My evening was quiet. I went to the Tower, prepared for my date with you, then ventured out early in case the weather grew worse.” Nicolo gestured elegantly with both hands.
“The viper is for her Turning celebration, held this year at Midwinter. The Tower holds many different celebrations during the holiday season, and Priscilla’s Turning festivities are often combined with Yule and Midwinter.
She throws magnificent parties. This year she is using the Tower ballroom for her celebrations.
There will be live music, dancing, circus performers, and many other entertainments. ”
“That sounds amazing,” Camden said, meaning it. “I don’t celebrate much, but that does sound like a lot of fun.”
“Please come to the party,” Nicolo asked. “My sire would love to meet you. She has a fondness for history lovers.”
“I swear I wasn’t fishing for an invite.”
“I know. I would love for you to come regardless. Please think about it.”
“I will.”
The waiter returned with their drinks, and Camden placed an order for the shepherd’s pie, wanting the hearty comfort of a familiar dish on a cold night.
Nicolo ordered a blood wine, piquing Camden’s curiosity.
He had no experience with vampire diets despite working with Cressida for so long.
Their shifts had only overlapped a bit since her Turning when she moved to the third shift.
The waiter returned with their orders quickly, which pleased Camden as he was hungrier than expected, even after eating earlier at work on his break. He tucked into his food eagerly, and tried not to stare as Nicolo drank from a real glass goblet filled with a dark-red liquid.
He ate his food, Nicolo sipped his drink, and they talked about normal things like the weather, the roads and traffic, and the hopelessness of the tourists invading the city for the winter holidays.
The shepherd’s pie was delicious, and Nicolo enjoyed his wine, if the empty goblet was any indication. Camden manfully resisted asking about it but Nicolo was observant and answered the unspoken questions sitting on the tip of Camden’s tongue.
“Yes, it’s a red wine blend with half a pint of O negative added.
The blood is ethically sourced from screened donors who are compensated for their time.
I can drink liquids just fine, and the more blood that’s in the mix, the better my body can handle the liquids in question.
Hence the popularity of blood-laced drinks. ”
“There’s a whole market for blood, both mundane human and vampire,” Camden said. “The shop sells vampire blood that we get in trade for items to the local health clinics and research groups.”
“I wondered, when you mentioned accepting blood in trade,” Nicolo said.
“I’m not inclined to do such a thing but that’s an option to consider in the future if financial disaster ever strikes.
” Nicolo set aside his goblet and leaned in a bit.
“We’ve talked about everything but ourselves. Tell me about you.”
Camden fiddled with his fork for a moment, then set it on his plate and pushed that aside too, putting his hands on the table.
He gathered his thoughts. “I’m twenty-six, I graduated from Boston College of Magical Arts with a Master’s in History of Magical Arts with a focus on Western cultures and disciplines.
You already know I speak several languages, and I’ve worked at Res Antiquae for a few years now.
I love my job. I’m an only child, and I’m not close to my parents.
I’m something of a magical outlier—neither of my parents are practitioners.
The magic skipped several generations and showed up in me as a total surprise.
I’m wizard-ranked and needed schooling from outside sources since my family couldn’t teach me.
That established a separation in my upbringing that they didn’t bother trying to bridge.
I see them maybe once a year, and get calls on my birthday.
I have no pets. I’d love to have a dog, but having one in my small apartment is unfair so I’m waiting to get a dog until I get a bigger place. ”
He took a breath and blinked at Nicolo. “Sorry, that was a lot. Oh, and my favorite color is blue.”
Nicolo reached out and took one of Camden’s hands in his, holding it gently.
His hand was ice-cold for a long moment, then to Camden’s fascination, it warmed quickly, reflecting Camden’s body heat.
It was a delightful sensation, and he held Nicolo’s hand in a soft, exploratory grip.
His heart skipped a beat, and the thrill of attraction ran down his arm to pool in his belly.
He really liked Nicolo. He met the silver gaze head-on and asked, “What about you?”
Nicolo smiled, a charming twist of his lips that made Camden want to kiss him.
“My favorite color is red, a rather cliché answer from a vampire, but crimson was my favorite hue before my Turning, so I don’t feel bad about admitting it.
I was Turned in the year 1500 AD, in Genova, Italy, which is now Genoa, at the age of twenty-eight.
I was the younger, unmarried son of a minor noble, and I spent most of my time carousing, dueling, and attending salons of philosophers, poets, and artists, seducing my way through them out of boredom.
It was my sexual exploits that got me in trouble with the church—I slept with the wrong gender, flaunting my lovers, and a disgruntled father accused me of immoral behavior.
The bishop had me jailed, sentenced to hang.
My own parents disowned me, and there was no one to speak on my behalf for leniency. I awaited my death.”
“You were sentenced to death for having male lovers?” Camden asked, incredulous, despite knowing that previous centuries were less enlightened than the modern day.
Such prejudices were hard to find in the current era, mostly infesting mundane human communities in the older generations, and not something seen in mainstream society anymore.
“Never fear, I was saved at the last minute. My sire, the esteemed Lady Priscilla, broke me free from my cell the night before I was to be hanged, asked me if I wanted to live, and when I said yes, she Turned me right there. I awoke the next night a vampire, safely ensconced in her rooms in a villa outside Genova. I have been her faithful son ever since.”
“I am so glad she saved you, and so sorry you went through that.”
“It was a very long time ago,” Nicolo said, and he lifted their joined hands and kissed Camden’s knuckles. Camden flushed, enjoying the attention and the heat he saw in those silver eyes. “But I thank you for your empathy. The human Nicolo would have appreciated it.”
“How did you end up in Boston?” Camden asked, instead of leaping across the table to land in Nicolo’s lap like he wanted.
“That’s an interesting tale, and involves a Gaulish prince, an epic misunderstanding, and enough blood wine to get an entire clan drunk.”