Thunder rumbled, shaking the emporium as rain lashed out at the window panes. Lightning broke the onyx sky, chasing away the nocturnal creatures of the night.
Ferocious gusts of wind roared outside as Lucien focused his concentration on reading a spellbook the Vale’s sold in their shop. Lucien lit some candles around them and snuggled up in a robe to fend off the cold. As he gazed up, a stray inflatable pumpkin bounced down the road.
Lucien forgot how the emporium didn’t furnish heat like most buildings. The Vale’s used their magic to keep the place warm, and without any of them around, Lucien swore he’d freeze his ass off. But it was better than tempting his fate at home.
“Your body temperature is very low,” Sebastian said.
“I’m fine.” Lucien shivered, averting his gaze from the vampire.
“It would be wise of you to go home, where it’s warm. You’re going to freeze in here,” Sebastian replied. “Vampires drastically drop the temperature of the room they’re in after so long.”
“Thanks for telling me that now.” Lucien groaned, tugging the robe closer around himself.
“I figured you knew all about my kind since you’re so familiar with manipulating us through your blood.” Sebastian scoffed.
“That wasn’t intentional.” Lucien grit his teeth, slamming the book down. “Look, I’m sorry for doing that to you, but I had to protect Castor. The Council already looks down on him and his family enough as it is. I don’t give two shits what they think of me.”
“Should it have worn off by now?” Sebastian asked.
“How about you go lock yourself in the Vale’s office and find out?” Lucien muttered, tugging the robe’s hood over his head.
Sebastian remained where he stood, smirking. “Thank goodness. Thought I’d be under your influence for eternity. Wizards are too troublesome.”
Chills raked Lucien’s body as he struggled to concentrate on anything else. Sebastian clearly noticed the spike in his body temperature, which also resulted in the weakening of his magic. Just conjuring a simple spell from that book he read took a lot out of him. The candle flames flickered around him, yet they provided no semblance of warmth. Sebastian’s presence dominated their flames.
Lucien considered heading home, but with the storm that brewed in, there was no chance in hell he’d make it. Maybe he should’ve just dealt with his folks back home. At least he’d be warm, even if scolded.
“Since we’re stuck here all night, I’m curious about something. Am I the first person who you drank blood directly from?” Lucien asked.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him. “No, why? Upset that you’re not my first?”
“No, it’s because you controlled yourself after tasting mine. Most vampires go berserk when they get their first taste of warm blood from the source, don’t they?” Lucien replied. “You mentioned flavors and all that, so I just assumed fresh is probably tastier.”
“How observant.”
“Was it Castor?” Lucien’s voice wavered.
“No.”
“Charlotte?”
“Again, no.” Sebastian sighed. “Quit nosing in my past.”
“I’m trying to find out what Charlotte was doing by investigating those vampire murders,” Lucien explained. “Charlotte wouldn’t just do it out of the kindness of her heart. She had a reason. Honestly, I thought it might’ve been for you.”
“We were friends, nothing more.” Sebastian shrugged. “She asked me questions about my kind a lot, but not in an invasive manner. She was more curious about us.”
“I see.” Lucien tilted his head to the side when he sneezed, wiping his nose on the collar of his shirt. “How often did she come by?”
“About as much as Castor did, the usual rounds for donating blood,” Sebastian replied. “The last time she came, she bumped into Castor. They were both surprised to see each other and promised not to let you know about it.”
Lucien frowned. “Really?”
Sebastian nodded. “Frankly, I thought you were just as bigoted as most of your town. Charlotte and Castor painted you in different ways. It was interesting to finally meet you after all the talk.”
Lucien sneezed again, silently cursing. “What did they say about me?”
Before Sebastian had a chance to respond, a pair of headlights cast a bright glow on the dimly lit emporium. Lucien squinted as he made out the figure darting through the rain with a black umbrella. The door walloped open and Castor stepped inside, shaking rivulets of rain from his overcoat as he placed a warm cup of coffee on the counter and a container of freshly baked cinnamon rolls.
“Hell’s bells, it’s like I crawled into Jack Frost’s asshole.” Castor’s magic danced across the room, furnishing warmth to the bone-chilling room.
Lucien reached out for the warm cup and clutched it tightly in his trembling hands. The scalding liquid felt heavenly against his tongue, and when he bit into the sweet, gooey cinnamon roll he swore he’d died and drifted into the warm embrace of the Gods above.
“See? I told you he’d be back,” Sebastian said. “Sorry for the draft. I can’t really control it.”
Castor sighed. “It’s fine. You’re such a hard-headed idiot, Lucien. Look at you. You’re freezing to death here. “ He removed his coat, gently draping it over his shoulders. “If you don’t want to go home, then you’re staying at my house.”
“I’m okay,” Lucien dismissed him. “We’ve just been chilling out here, thinking about suspects.”
Castor pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can do that at my house. Sebastian will be fine here by himself, right?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“I’ll drive you back to Nevermourn tomorrow,” Castor told him. “If you need anything, you can sound the alarm here. It’ll alert my folks and we’ll come check things out. Only use it for emergencies. They’ll kill me if you wake them up for something stupid.”
“Got it.” Sebastian nodded.
After Lucien finished the cinnamon rolls, he followed Castor outside to his jeep. Castor kept the umbrella over both their heads, ensuring Lucien got into the passenger seat before climbing in on the other side. Lucien rubbed at his nose, unable to hold back a fit of sneezes as he gazed out his window.
“You caught a cold, didn’t you?” Castor’s reprimanding tone reminded him too much of his mother’s. “I figured you’d stay with him tonight, and then realization hit me about Sebastian and how he makes a room resemble a morgue.”
“It’s okay. Not your fault.” Lucien shrugged, savoring the warmth that furnished his car. He slouched in the leather seat.
“It kind of is. I introduced you guys and pulled you into this mess.” Castor sighed.
Once at the Vale’s residence, Castor led him through the familiar foyer and upstairs to his bedroom. He’d been there plenty of times before when they were kids. Somehow, as he let Castor drag him down the hallway, his heart pounded like the thunder outside. Things had changed since they were kids.
Dark black curtains with their family’s crest shielded the outside world. As Lucien stepped over to the Queen-sized bed, he admired the framed photos on his nightstand. The first was captured downtown during Harvest Fest when they were only nine and ten years old. Lucien remembered how his mom designed both their robes for the event. The second image was taken recently in their home for Mr. Vale’s fortieth birthday, capturing Lucien, Castor, and his family gathered in the foyer with Mr. Vale holding his cake.
“How are you feeling?” Castor asked.
“Tired.” Lucien climbed up into Castor’s bed, wrapping one of the cozy blankets around his unthawing body. Warmth rushed through him as he fell back into the kingdom of pillows.
Castor chuckled. “Make yourself at home.”
“It was so cold back there,” Lucien whined. “I don’t know how Sebastian tolerates it.”
“Well, his body doesn’t rely on heat anymore. Not to sound morbid, but he probably feels more like a corpse,” Castor replied.
“Poor Sebastian.”
“I’m sure he’s used to it by now.” Castor shrugged. “He turned nearly forty years ago.”
Lucien couldn’t keep his tired eyes open any longer. After unthawing from the cold, all his body craved was rest. As Castor’s voice faded, he slipped faraway into the land of dreams.
Comments (1)
See all