Julian
That bastard Isidoro lied. It’s been an entire week and he’s not back yet.
I glare at my mirror, toothpaste dripping from my mouth.
“What’s with the holdup? Seriously? What is so important that it’s taking him a whole fucking week?
We could’ve solved my father’s murder by now!
” I grumble. “I even had to move the S&S meeting! And he hasn’t even called once!
” Spitting out the toothpaste, I rinse with water. “When is he coming back?”
Despite my frustration, I go about my day.
Ria and I haven’t made any meaningful progress on the Red Leaf so far, and today is no different.
El Paso is our best bet, so we just have to go there.
I’ve already explored Isidoro’s house too, I even found where he’s hiding the bloodstained ruby.
It’s inside the damn first-floor bathroom, hidden in a special compartment accessible via a hidden panel.
Pff, I’d steal it if that wasn’t pointless.
The ruby recognizes only the king, it lends its power and protection only to Isidoro.
Not fully yet, but enough to thwart any attempts to steal it, especially after he publicly took credit for my father’s fate as advised by good ol’ me.
There was no point in keeping it a secret, as it would only harm us and the investigation.
He didn’t make a big dramatic deal of it either, just an announcement that the entire vampire world received on their phones.
I’m pretty sure Samuel arranged it on orders from Isidoro.
It was sort of anticlimactic. God bless technology.
After an indulgent breakfast, I do some work.
No matter where I look or whom I ask, I can’t figure out where S&S’ new HQ is located.
I consider asking Isidoro about it, but it’s not like I’m attached to the original place or anything, so whatever.
Plus, I don’t want to be the first one to call or text him. He’ll be the one to crack, not me.
I refocus on S&S. This upcoming show my PA just emailed me about is way more concerning than Isidoro’s stubbornness to contact me. According to her, the team has the new line ready for it, but there’s one thing missing—a design from me, the showstopper to close the show with a bang.
I tap my fingers against my chin. The theme for the event is exotic summer nights, and my team has done a great job incorporating flower motifs via lace and frills.
My centerpiece must be something different though, something that takes the theme and does a spin on it.
I’d need the right model for it too, someone tall and beautiful who bleeds elegance and confidence.
Brainstorming, I scribble a few quick doodles.
But without someone to use as a model for the design, without inspiration, it’s hard to pick a direction.
Part of creating luxury underwear, or even clothes in general, is tailoring them to the person who’d wear them.
You take into account their build and form, the colors that look good on them, the aura they give off.
Just as I start scrolling through the list of my go-to models for such special occasions, someone enters my room without bothering to knock. I swivel around on my chair, ready to reprimand them, but the words freeze on my tongue the moment I meet the intruder’s beautiful eyes.
It’s Isidoro, his tall and lean frame slumped against the door. “I would like to apologize, Julian. The issue was a lot more complicated than I thought,” he says, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t mean to make you wait this long.”
A scolding catches in my throat as my heart skips a beat. “Why didn’t you call?”
Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to ask that! It sounded so fucking needy.
Isidoro’s eyes widen as my cheeks threaten to catch fire, my question visibly unexpected to us both. I preen a little, not really meaning to, but it’s not every day that something breaks through the mask that he wears. “I… It was a very delicate matter, and it required my full attention and time.”
Dark circles have formed under his eyes, and he looks like he hasn’t fed in days.
That’s probably not the case, so he must have been stressed.
I ball my hand, the urge to lend him a shoulder and take him to the kitchen for a meal before tucking him in bed buzzing inside me.
“What kind of matter?” I ask, my voice doing this weird, raspy thing.
He seems surprised, like it caught him off-guard that I am curious about it.
Two to zero for me tonight, motherfucker, ha!
“It’s for a big construction project in Las Vegas that began recently.
New Haven Casino. It’s a rather ambitious venture with a giant budget and tight deadlines, and there’s this... ”
Oh, this already sounds like a pain in the ass. I remember how often my father had issues whenever it came to big-budget projects. “This?” I prod, watching him as he walks over to my window and glances out.
“Councilman who suddenly decided he has concerns about the zoning revisions,” he says dryly. “He somehow failed to discover them until after permits were approved.”
“Right. One of those.”
He turns to me, something soft crossing his face. It lingers. “And one of the subcontractors we use underestimated material costs, so I have to deal with that delightful complication as well.”
“Sounds miserable.”
His shoulders drop. “It is.”
He says it so simply that it catches me off-guard.
There’s no arrogance in it, no annoyance, just exhaustion.
It’s a side of him I haven’t really seen, one that I doubt he shows often.
Something coils tight in my chest, a sudden craving I shut down immediately before it makes me do something stupid, like give into the urge to cross the room and let him kiss me.
“I think you need sleep.”
“I promised we’d go to El Paso—”
“We’ll go tomorrow. What’s one more day when I’ve already waited a whole week?” I snort.
His mouth forms a line, the edges quirking up almost imperceptibly. Is he gonna fight me on it? I brace for an argument.
“Okay. Good night, Julian. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I watch him leave the room, his exit as graceful as usual. My pulse thuds madly along my neck, not calming down until I refocus my attention on something that isn’t this handsome husband of mine.
We leave very early in the morning, before sunrise. Isidoro’s private jet is much like my father’s, opulent and over the top. He’s got more work to do as we take off, so I leave him be, scrolling through picture boards on the internet in search of a muse for my piece.
Did he come back before he wrapped up things for that project then? I steal a glance at him, his ethereal features scrunched in concentration as he speaks to someone on a video call. Why? A pleasant pang of warmth unravels inside me. Because of me? It must be, right?
I frown. Am I being delusional? He seems…
normal, so maybe not. But then, making me wait isn’t really something that would bother him, so he didn’t really need to return before he sorted out the issue…
No, no, but this is his priority, too. This murder is bigger than both of us, a precedent we can’t ignore.
That’s the reason he rushed back even if, by the looks of things, he’s still in the middle of dealing with that work complication.
Okay, but it’s not like he couldn’t send someone with me, right? He insisted we go together, but if push came to shove, surely Samuel or another of Isidoro’s assistants could’ve accompanied me while he deals with stuff?
Yes, but still—Why does any of this matter, Julian? I bury my face in my palms, groaning. Ugh! My mind is a mess and it’s his fault. Get a fucking grip!
Just as the culmination of my inner journey of epic frustration peaks, a hand grips my shoulder.
“Let’s go. A car is waiting for us,” Isidoro says, nudging his chin toward the door.
I blink at him, not sure where the time went. I swear, I got distracted from the picture board, like, just five minutes ago. “Yeah. Okay. Let me just put this away.”
He clasps my hand as I close the laptop. “Leave it. Liliya will take care of that.”
I nod and follow Isidoro out of the plane. Outside, the air is warm but fresh, a gentle early morning breeze caressing my cheeks. The sky is still mostly dark, but streaks of light have broken through, and when I glance east, I can see the first fiery-tinted indications of sunrise.
Wow, I’ve missed this. It’s been so long. In Mexico, all I could see were sunrays slipping past the gaps in the canopy until it was midday. No sunrise, no moonrise. Only imprisonment in the most boring place in the entire world that almost drove me insane.
The airfield where we’ve landed is small, probably used for general aviation, and currently there’s nobody around. But I don’t feel alone, isolated. Isidoro’s presence is right there, tangible and grounding, nearby but not too close to be imposing.
I shut my eyes and breathe in deeply. For the first time in months, I feel normal, like this is the start of a regular day.
S&S is fine, I’m excited for the upcoming show.
Maybe we’ll find out the truth about my father’s murder today.
I don’t feel like my sanity might snap at the smallest of sounds.
A hand finds the low of my back, firm and steady.
I shiver, the touch unexpected for my distracted mind, and wrench away, only to be halted as Isidoro plants himself right in front of me.
I kind of crash into him, but his hand—the same one that was resting on my back—reacts quickly, steadying me before I’ve embarrassed myself.
The touch is even more scorching than earlier, and my stomach twists as butterflies invade it.
“Ria sent me the address. I don’t know what we might find when we arrive, so keep your senses sharp,” Isidoro says, using one finger to tip my chin up. “Understood?”
My eyes take in his beautiful face, illuminated by the quickly brightening sky. His eyes shimmer with playful reflections, and his lips have angled up slightly, as if mocking me or teasing me or taunting me or simply expressing his joy at looking at me.
I can’t look away from them. The phantom memory of how soft they felt and what they tasted like floods my brain. Heat takes me on a wild ride, my whole body humming. It would be so easy to lean in, to press my mouth to his just for a second.
My nostrils flare, which is a mistake as now I can smell his enticingly dark scent. It’s all around me, invigorating like the fresh morning air and the sun on my skin. Oh my god. Jesus, Julian, seriously? Get yourself under control.
“Yeah. Sure, of course. We need to be careful in case this is a trap or something,” I say, swallowing hard as he rubs my chin, then jaw with something one could easily confuse for fondness.
But it’s not, I know better. This is him just messing with me.
Yep, that’s gotta be it. “Actually… I don’t see a team? Shouldn’t we take backup with us?”
He considers that. “I’ve had people keep an eye on the area. There doesn’t seem to be anyone, but that’s not necessarily the case. We need to handle this with caution, which is why I didn’t want to make a ruckus. If someone is there, we don’t want to spook them.”
He’s got a point, sort of. Besides, it’s not like the two of us can’t handle ourselves. He’s the king of all vampires, after all, and I’m a descendant of the Corvath bloodline.
Isidoro hums and heads for the dark gray SUV parked a few yards from the plane’s service point.
I follow him, trying not to think too hard about the pinpricks still crawling all over my skin or the way my heart rate remains elevated.
He holds the front passenger’s door for me, and after I’ve climbed in, he takes the driver’s seat and adjusts the mirror.
“It’s about an hour’s drive,” he says, and turns on the car. Then he grabs the gear stick and freezes.
“You okay?” I follow the path of his deep frown, which is aimed at the stick.
“This is a manual. I requested an automatic...”
A moment passes, then a second one, silent and charged. He levels me with a frustrated look, causing the hairs on my neck to stand up.
“What?” I say, feeling an urge to hug myself as the intent in his gaze is just too much.
“I… Usually, I have someone drive me around. And this is not an automatic gear transmission…” he says slowly, carefully, a hint of annoyance clinging to his every word.
I gawk at him. A touch of pink takes to his cheeks, subtle and so imperceptible, I wouldn’t have caught it if the angle of the light hitting his face wasn’t just right. I haven’t really seen Isidoro flustered before. It’s kind of cute.
“Oh…” I nod, twiddling my thumbs and fighting off a smile. A bout of laughter tries to leave me, but I halt it before it escapes fully. “Right. Of course.”
“It’s been a while…”
Sure, but I mean, it’s not like you just forget how to drive a manual… He’s been alive for centuries, and he must have learned how to do that, no?
Glancing out my window so I don’t burst out cackling at him, I nod again and track the jet plane’s roll maneuver as it speeds toward the end of the single airstrip. It performs it perfectly, lifting its nose and then the rest of its aerodynamic body.
“Should I drive then?” I toss casually, like it’s not a big deal that he can’t.
When I face him, he purses his lips. I can’t help but fixate on them yet again, on how soft they look. Heat rushes south, the craving to taste him again intensifying inside me. No, Julian, don’t think about this! Not now, not when you’re alone with him and so fucking close. Get your shit together!
Isidoro’s hand moves from the gearstick to my thigh. It’s heavy and assertive in a pleasant way. It’s also terribly close to my very interested dick.
“I can call for a driver…” he trails off, his tongue poking out as he leans in slightly.
Holy shit! He’s so close and he smells so fucking good. My incisors extend, my cock pressing against the restrictive material of my jeans.
“No… No need. I can drive us there.” I undo my belt and get out of the car so fast I get whiplash.
When I open the driver’s side door, Isidoro pauses before stepping out. “I don’t know. Do you promise not to drive us off a cliff?”
I frown. “Why would I do that?”
I catch a tease of his smile as he stands and walks around the front of the car. “Perhaps as a futile attempt to get rid of me?”
Rolling my eyes, I get in the driver’s seat. As soon as he’s strapped in, I’m flooring it toward the destination he’s input on the car’s touchscreen map. “We have a truce, Isidoro, at least temporarily. You’ve got nothing to fear. I won’t try to backstab you. Much.”
He laughs. Openly, freely. It infects me, so I laugh too, throwing my head back and almost driving us off the road into a drainage ditch.