Page 5 of Vampire Claus

Taviano hadn’t stepped back, but neither had Paul. They were almost the same height, though Paul was more slender of build. His big blue eyes had flecks of green and gold around the iris. That close, his heady essence made Taviano’s mouth water.

The response puzzled him immensely. It wasn’t hunger for Paul’s blood; that much was clear from his demon’s apathy. So what was it Taviano wanted to do about that wonderful smell?

Run my fingers through Paul’s hair to see if that’s where it’s coming from. Listen to the sound the silky strands make as they fall back into a glorious mess.

Oh no, that was ridiculous. He hadn’t touched a man for any reason but to feed in decades. He was just caught by the novelty of talking to a sweet young man on Christmas Eve. It would end with a missing hour for Paul and a pleasant memory for himself. He opened his mouth to announce it was time to forget everything, but what came out was, “Your eyes are quite beautiful.”

Paul blinked and a flush crept up his cheeks as he smiled shyly. “Um, thanks.” He looked again at his shoulder, unblemished under its traces of drying blood, and gasped, “Dude! What the actual fuck?” Taviano opened his mouth to answer but Paul waved his hands frantically. “No, wait, don’t tell me. That’s the deal, right? Don’t ask, don’t kill.”

“What if I promise that you’ll forget all this soon, so it doesn’t matter if I explain?” It was out before Taviano thought to censor himself. Prior to that evening, he hadn’t even acknowledged how much he missed simply talking to someone. The temptation to reveal what he was startled him deeply. Internally, he echoed Paul’s crude words.What the actual fuck am I doing?

Seeming oblivious to Taviano’s panic, Paul asked, “Is that what you said to the asshole? I thought I heard you tell him to forget but I didn’t hear it all.”

“Yes. The three of them will have nightmares but no actual memories.” He worried that would scare Paul, so he hastened to add, “No nightmares for you, I promise. No memories at all.” He added a grin to reassure, big enough that it felt strange on his face.

“Oh.” The shining gaze dimmed slightly. “Can I be honest? I’m a little bummed about that.”

Taviano frowned. “Really? I would have thought you’d want to put this all behind you as soon as possible.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m kinda scared shitless. But I’ve never been around a ninja before and it’s blowing my mind.”

“A ninja?”

“Well, the black clothes. The awesome way you move. You’re all muscled up and shit. I just figured…”

This time Taviano’s huge smile felt wholly natural. “You worked it out, Paul. I’m a ninja on a special mission for the CIA.”

“No shit? An Italian ninja. How does that work?” Paul asked excitedly. “Were you, like, kidnapped to Japan as a child and raised in a secret temple?”

Taviano threw his head back and laughed. It had been sixty-seven years and nine months since he laughed like that. “Oh Paul. You’re delightful. Yes, I was taken as a baby to a monastery at the top of Mount Fuji. I had to battle for the respect of the monks.”

“Aw, you ruined it, dude.” Paul looked dejected and his expressive eyes darted around as his face grew red. “Now I can tell you’re making fun of me.”

Oh, that wouldn’t do. Taviano hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings or make him feel bad.Damnhis ineptitude. Softly, he said, “I’m not making fun of you. I’m playingwithyou. There’s a difference.”

Paul still wouldn’t look at him so Taviano audaciously, unexpectedly, reached out to stroke his cheek. The slight stubble scritched as he curled his finger under Paul’s chin and tugged until their eyes met. “Seriously, ‘dude,’” he said, working to speak in Paul’s modern language. “I think you’re, uh, awesome.”

Paul smiled at him uncertainly as he assessed whether Taviano was serious. What he saw must have convinced him because his face lit again. He bobbed his head happily. “’Kay ’kay. We’re good.”

To stand that close and touch recalled long-forgotten delights from Taviano’s human life. A simple hug. A kiss. What would Paul feel like, enfolded in his arms? Would he be warm? His brazen hand, still on Paul’s chin, trembled slightly. Their eyes locked together, and Paul’s lips slackened. He tilted his head forward minutely. An invitation, and all Taviano had to do was lean in—

A siren roared by on Hanover Street, shattering the stillness. Shaking his head, Taviano dropped his hand and stepped back. He reached for any topic that would cover his near-blunder but keep the conversation going. In a voice unsteady to his own ears, he blurted, “Tell me about the presents.”

“Oh! Right.” Paul attempted to adjust his pants discreetly. Failed. Saw that he’d failed and blushed, then stammered, “Yeah, so there’s this shelter for LGBTQ+ kids a couple of blocks over. I’ve volunteered there for a few months. Most of them are great teenagers who got dealt a shitty hand. They’re on the lists for all those Christmas gift programs, you know? But somehow the queer kids didn’t get picked when Joe and Brenda Suburb did their guilt-ridden thing.”

Taviano tried to apply the snatches of talk and programs he’d overheard through the years. He furrowed his brow. “I think I understood every other word of that.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “I guess the ninja monastery didn’t have TV. Anyway, these kids were gonna get shafted come Christmas morning, like, by the biggest dick without lube.”

“That’s…painfully descriptive,” Taviano chuckled.

“Whatever. Prude,” Paul muttered with a grin as he tried to gather his bags of gifts. When he struggled, Taviano stepped over and took the three largest bags effortlessly while Paul hoisted the last one. He began to walk back in the direction he’d come from, and after a pause, Taviano followed him up the street.Just a little longer…

“Anyway,” Paul continued, “I started a fund at the diner where I work. I put signs on the counter and set out jars. I guilted every motherfucker who walked through the door until I got at least a dollar out of ’em. Then I started making my way through the shelter’s list of residents. I couldn’t get everything they wanted—even homeless kids can be greedy, you know?—but I made sure every child will have at least one cool present to open on Christmas morning.”

“That’s remarkable,” Taviano said admiringly. Given the state of his clothes, it seemed likely that Paul owned little himself. Despite that, he had the generosity of heart to worry about children with even less. Decades of taking blood from the darkest specimens of humanity had clouded Taviano’s perceptions. He’d nearly forgotten that there were good people in the world as well. People like Paul.

“Did it take long to gather the funds?”

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