Nicolo
He received a text from Achilles,asking him to come by the shop. He was going there regardless—he wanted to see Camden and assure himself that the incident didn’t put Camden off seeing him again. He replied that he was on his way, leaving the Tower just before sunset from the underground garage, Gary not driving this time, having been given a few days off after being attacked. His new driver was also a vampire, one of the recently Turned security guards, Vincent was his name.
Vincent was armed, too, the scent of gun oil permeating the towncar, but Nicolo wasn’t bothered. The City Master of the Bloodclan had given orders for all drivers to be armed in case of future attacks. Nicolo wasn’t sure he was the target—it didn’t make sense, not with the strange vampire going after Camden with such intent—but he wasn’t going to skirt around ordersfrom the City Master, and so he agreed to the extra precautions without a qualm.
Nicolo had a dagger, a simple plain affair that he kept in a tactical release holster at the small of his back, though it would only come in handy against someone armed with a blade—he preferred a sword, but he wasn’t carrying one of his delicate antiques around with him in case of a future altercation. His swords were his treasures, but they were old, and would break under any strenuous use. He kept them under lock and key for their protection.
He grew up in a culture where duels were common, swords were carried by nobles and commoners alike, and swordfights broke out daily. Before he was Turned, he’d engaged in many a duel, settling squabbles and matters of honor with the thrust of a blade.
Vincent parked the car outside Res Antiquae, the shop lit up like a beacon. Nicolo saw the security guard standing vigil through the glass doors, eyeing the towncar with suspicion. Seemed the staff were on high alert. Good.
“Do you wish for me to wait for you, or come back?” Vincent asked.
“I plan on being here for a while, so I’ll text you. No need to wait for me.”
“Understood. Be careful, sir,” Vincent said as Nicolo got out of the car.
“I plan on it,” Nicolo replied, lightly shutting the door and turning to the shop.
The doors burst open, and he suddenly had an armful of happily vibrating, excited earth mage—Camden’s arms wrapped around his neck, and Nicolo hugged him back with enthusiasm, careful not to crush ribs. He buried his face in Camden’s hair and breathed in his delicious scent and warmth.
“You came back,” Camden said, voice muffled in Nicolo’s scarf.
Nicolo chuckled. “Yes, of course. I wanted to see you.”
Camden burrowed in closer, cold nose against Nicolo’s neck. “I was worried after last night that you wouldn’t be interested anymore.”
“A few villains aren’t enough to keep me from you,” Nicolo swore, meaning it. He was irresistibly drawn to Camden, and he had spent the entire day impatiently waiting for the sun to go down. He’d wanted to text Camden, but was afraid to wake him, not sure about Camden’s sleep schedule. It would take some getting used to—dating someone who slept regularly. At least, he hoped they would be dating.
Camden shivered and Nicolo realized the poor man wasn’t wearing a coat. “Come, let’s go inside before you freeze to death.”
Camden let him go reluctantly, then took his hand and led him through the glass doors, the security guard holding the doors open for them. Nicolo gave the man a nod in thanks, and then suddenly they were inside the brightly lit shop, face to face with Achilles.
Achilles Feybourne was one of his oldest friends in the city, and he knew well the cranky expression on that perfect face. Achilles was prickly and demanding, but utterly loyal and protective of those he called friend. Achilles looked him up and down, sniffing once. “You look intact.”
Nicolo chuckled, then hugged Achilles around the shoulders with his free arm, the other holding fast to Camden. “I am well, my friend. Not a scratch on me.”
Achilles briefly hugged him back, then pulled away, arching a slim brow. “I shouldn’t have expected otherwise. But enough chitchat—Camden has a surprise for you.” He turned to Camden, gesturing toward the back of the store. “I’ll man the floor while you show Nicolo his surprise.”
“Thank you, Achilles,” Camden said, blushing a bit. He gently tugged on Nicolo’s hand. “Come with me?”
“I’ll follow you anywhere, tesoro.”
He very maturely ignored the snort of amusement from Achilles, and followed the sweetly blushing man through the maze of the shop. They reached a door that said Private on it, and Camden unlocked it with a touch and a softly murmured Latin word, the spell releasing. He carefully followed Camden through the doorway into what appeared to be a large storage room with towering racks of items and crates. The door clicked shut behind them, and the lock reengaged with a soft snick.
There was a long table near the door, and Camden led him to it.
A long wooden box lay on the table, the wood polished to a high sheen, smelling of linseed oil and magic. It was about three feet long and a few inches high, with a bronze latch on the front. Camden turned to him, still holding his hand, and took a deep breath before speaking.
“Nicolo, I wanted to thank you for saving me. You went above and beyond. I have no doubt I would have been seriously hurt or even killed last night if you hadn’t been there. You barely know me, and yet you saved me.”
He squeezed Camden’s hand. “I will always save you. And you need not thank me. It was my honor and my privilege to protect you.”
He meant every single word. He hoped Camden believed him.
A soft smile curved those lush lips and Camden blushed hot, though he met Nicolo’s earnest gaze and held it. “I want to thank you, regardless. I hope you’ll accept this gift. It would mean a lot to me.”
“Alright,” Nicolo murmured. “I would be honored.”
