Chapter 3
Chapter Three
NICOLO
Camden was a delightful dinner companion. Insightful questions, an active listener, and he wasn’t shy about his appreciative glances or holding onto Nicolo’s hand across the table.
Camden fought back a yawn but ultimately lost, blinking tiredly and looking adorable. Nicolo checked his watch and saw it was approaching dawn and closing time.
“Shall I escort you home?” Nicolo asked. “It’s nearly dawn and they’d probably like to close soon.” They were the only ones in the entire restaurant aside from the staff, the other patrons long gone.
“I need to go to bed,” Camden said bluntly, making Nicolo chuckle. “Sorry. No filter when it’s this late, or early. I had a great time, but I need to sleep.”
“Then I shall escort you home and say goodnight,” Nicolo said, standing and helping Camden to his feet. Nicolo left a stack of bills on the table—more than enough to cover their meal and to leave a generous tip for their waiter.
“I’m okay splitting the bill,” Camden protested, and Nicolo gently waved away the suggestion.
“I asked you out, it’s my pleasure,” Nicolo replied. “Next date you can pay.”
“Next date?” Camden said, blushing a bit as they headed to the host stand where two staff members waited with their coats and winter gear. Nicolo helped Camden shrug into his coat, settling the thick scarf around his neck before getting into his own coat.
“I’d love to go on another date with you, thank you for asking,” Nicolo teased, and Camden snorted out a laugh at Nicolo’s brazen move.
“I’ll text you with ideas, then,” Camden said. Nicolo thanked the staff and led Camden out into the snow.
The wind was gone, and the world was hushed, blanketed in a layer of snow, ankle-deep and pristine. Nicolo heard the plows scraping along the roads a few blocks over, and the street in front of them was cleared enough for Nicolo’s driver to pull up next to the curb, blinkers on.
“May we take you home?” Nicolo asked. “It’s very late, and I would feel better knowing you got home safely. Gary is a driver employed by the Tower and assigned to me and my sire. All above board, I assure you.”
Camden gave him a searching glance, then nodded. “Yes, please, and thank you. I doubt there’s any rideshares available at this hour anyway.”
Nicolo was relieved, and he opened the door for Camden, letting him get inside first before sliding in after him.
The inside of the car was warm, and Camden settled right along Nicolo’s side as close as he could manage while wearing layers. He leaned forward and told Gary his address, and the car pulled away from the curb.
The ride to Camden’s apartment took a few minutes, the trip made in silence, Camden blinking slowly and obviously fighting exhaustion.
Mortals needed sleep and Nicolo forgot that sometimes—he hadn’t slept since he was Turned.
Vampires could fall into a trance, but true sleep was beyond them.
Younger vampires fell into a stupor during the height of the day, and that trance was close enough that they called it sleep.
The lethargy during the day was only felt by younger vampires, older vampires being able to resist the urge to rest and to be active.
Nicolo hadn’t felt the urge to rest during the day for a hundred years.
The car pulled to a stop in front of a decent apartment building, one with a door guard, electronic keypads, and security cameras. Nicolo opened the door and helped Camden get out, taking his hand and helping him keep his balance on the icy sidewalk in front of the building.
“I had a wonderful time,” Camden murmured, looking up at him with a sweet smile and hopeful eyes.
Nicolo shut the car door and stepped closer to Camden, close enough to lean down and press a kiss to soft lips.
Camden purred, popping up onto his toes, pushing into the kiss, hands gripping the front of Nicolo’s coat, and Nicolo reached out and gripped Camden’s hips through his coat, deepening the kiss.
Camden kissed like a dream, soft and giving, and Nicolo growled a bit, fighting the instinct to lift Camden in his arms and ravish him on the spot.
He tasted of wine and man, and that made Nicolo burn hotter.
He wanted Camden, but he wanted more than a hookup, so he eased back on the intensity and Camden dropped back on the flats of his feet.
He met Camden’s eyes and they both smiled.
There was a faint crunch of snow just behind him, and a whiff of mortal and stress sweat, and Nicolo whirled, Camden at his back. He brought a hand up and caught the metal baton as it came down in an arcing blow aimed right for his head.
Camden shouted in alarm, and Nicolo heard the driver’s door open as Gary got out of the car.
Nicolo hissed, fangs bared, as his assailant struggled to free the baton from Nicolo’s grip to no avail.
He wrenched it away and spun it in his grip until he had the handle, and he promptly went on the offensive, keeping Camden behind him.
He struck his attacker on the knee, forcing the mortal to buckle with a scream, and he swiftly followed that with a sharp blow to the side of the man’s head, knocking him unconscious.
He dropped like a sack of potatoes to the snow-covered ground.
The baton was shorter and more unwieldy than a saber, but it worked well in a pinch.
“Nicolo!”
Camden’s shout had him turning around, senses expanding in a rush. Gary was grappling with a dark-clad person in the street, but it was the two people rushing Camden that had Nicolo snarling in rage and blurring in front of his date.
One of the attackers was supernatural—Nicolo found himself facing off against a fae of unknown species. The exhaust from the town car running nearby was blocking his sense of smell, which explained how they were able to get this close without Nicolo noticing them.
This one had a proper sword, a simple one of modern design, clean lines and hardened steel, freshly forged and sharp, the double edges gleaming in the streetlights. Nicolo missed his saber, but he would manage with the steel baton.
A thump of energy came from behind Nicolo, he smelled the overwhelming earthy tang of magic behind him, and the street was illuminated in a deep, emerald green as Camden raised a shield around himself, blocking off the other attacker’s attempts to reach him.
A thrust came for his head, and Nicolo parried it with ease, steel screaming as baton met blade.
Nicolo pushed away his opponent’s blade and stepped inside his guard.
He brought the baton up and smacked his attacker across the throat, shoulder-checking him as he stepped forward, his momentum making the gagging assailant stumble backward several feet.
He went to follow, to press his advantage, but Gary was in trouble. Camden was safe under his shield, hands up and glowing, prepared to cast but obviously not accustomed to combat. Nicolo’s fae opponent turned tail and ran into the shadows, abandoning his brethren.
Nicolo blurred to Gary and thwapped his attacker on the head, hard enough to stagger the person but not kill him, and then grabbed the assailant by the shoulder as he let go of Gary and threw him several yards down the street. The man tumbled in the slush and ice and slid to a stop with a groan.
“Camden!” Nicolo called, blurring back to him. His attacker was smashing a hard fist into Camden’s shield, and Nicolo finally smelled a hint of vampire from this one. Given enough time, he might be able to break through Camden’s shields with brute force.
He tossed aside the baton and grabbed the last attacker by the scruff of the neck, hurling him away.
The other vampire growled, twisting in the air, and landed on his feet beside the unconscious assailant.
Nicolo snarled, baring his teeth, fangs and claws out and ready to tear this interloper asunder.
He did not recognize the vampire by face or scent—he was not Bloodclan.
Gary was calling 911. Camden was safe under his shield, and Nicolo was ready to kill. The other vampire took in the situation with alacrity and grabbed his unconscious buddy, blurring off into the night.
Nicolo spun, but the man he’d thrown into the road was gone as well, having taken the chance to escape. Their assailants were gone. Only the baton and the disturbed surface of the snow showed any proof of what had happened.
Gary ran up to him, phone to his ear. He was a bit ruffled from the altercation but was unharmed. “Sir, are you well?”
“I’m fine. Camden?” Nicolo went to Camden, stopping at the edge of the emerald shield raised in a half-sphere around the earth mage. Breathing heavily, Camden had wide eyes, his hands shaking.
“I’m—I’m okay,” Camden stuttered out, obviously shaken. “What the hell?”
“Tesoro, they’re gone. You’re safe.”
“Okay, yeah.” Camden lowered his hands, looking around nervously. “You sure?”
Now that he was paying attention, he sensed they were alone again. Their attackers were long gone. Part of him wanted to track them down and get answers, finish the fight, but he didn’t want to leave Camden. “Very sure, but you can stay shielded if that’ll make you feel better.”
“Police are on their way,” Gary told him, still on the phone with emergency services.
Camden suddenly dropped his shield, and Nicolo stepped forward, arms open. Camden rushed into his embrace, clutching tight, shaking. Nicolo held him firmly, careful not to crush his sweet mage. Camden tucked his head under Nicolo’s chin and held on for dear life.
Hours later, after a decent stretch of sleep and a good meal, his next shift started with minimal fanfare, though a worried fae did make an appearance.
“And you’re sure you’re fine? Do you need a few days off?” Achilles asked him again for what felt like the millionth time.
Camden was in the breakroom in the rear of the shop, and Achilles, his boss and friend, was pacing along the tile floor as he squinted at Camden, as if looking for signs of an incipient breakdown.
Achilles was dressed as per usual like a runway model, elegant even when emotionally frazzled.
His long blond hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, revealing pointed ears, his flawless features pinched, bright green eyes full of worry.
Achilles was beautiful, even when stressed out.
“I wasn’t hurt. Nicolo saved me,” Camden reassured Achilles.
“He was amazing. He took out a person wielding a sword like a knight in shining armor, using a baton. It was amazing! Scary, but amazing. This vampire kept trying to get to me, but my shield kept him out, and Nicolo threw him away from me like a rag doll.”
“Four assailants for a mugging?” Achilles shook his head. “Perhaps they were after Nicolo? He is a Bloodclan vampire, maybe he was the target.”
“That’s what the cops think, and it makes sense to me. The police who responded said it looked like a mugging attempt, and Nicolo was probably the target,” Camden explained. “He’s your friend. Is he often a target like this?”
He worried about Nicolo. The incident was so far outside his experience he was certain that Nicolo had to be the target.
He went all over the city on his own and had never been mugged, much less assaulted.
Boston was a relatively safe city, with its incredibly high supernatural and practitioner populations.
Muggers were rare, as they tended to be humans, and they rarely risked attacking anyone in Boston—you never knew who you might meet in a dark alley.
There were plenty of people with fangs and claws and magic, able to defend themselves.
The police were also certain it had to have something to do with the Bloodclan, focusing most of their questions on Nicolo and Gary.
“Nicolo isn’t part of the upper echelon of the Tower and its politics,” Achilles shared, stopping his pacing, arms crossed over his chest. “Neither is his sire. Nothing like this has happened since I’ve known him, and I met him decades ago.”
“Let’s hope it was a random mugging attempt and nothing more,” Camden said. He finished putting away his winter gear and turned to Achilles, determined. “I want to do something to thank him. Nicolo, I mean.”
Achilles arched a golden brow at him, relaxing a bit. “I do too, since he saved one of my best employees and friends. What did you have in mind?”
Camden grinned. “I know just the thing.”