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’shand 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 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.”
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.
They sat for hours and chatted about everything, from Nicolo’s childhood as a young noble in Italy in the late 1400s, to Camden’s years in college and grad school. They found a shared love of history and the arts. Camden didn’t once let go of Nicolo’s hand.
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 slow 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 they called it sleep. The lethargy during the day was only felt by younger vampires, older vampires able to resist the urge to rest and be active. Nicolo hadn’t felt the urge to rest during the day for a hundred years.
