Nocturne | ONC 2024

Eight: Wine

There was nothing to suggest anything untoward was going to happen, but Aaron knew this was stupid.

He followed the trailing end of Nikolai's coat as the vampire led him up a clean stairwell and stopped in front of the first flat door they came to. The block itself was unassuming, modern-looking, with none of the service staff or gilt-lined banks of lifts that he'd half-expected from a place Nikolai owned. It looked...ordinary.

The flat itself was no less so. It was plain, and furnished so colourlessly that it was clear Nikolai did just keep it on as a spare. There was no decoration on the walls, no hint at the personality or interests of the man who owned it. It was spotlessly clean, small, and looked out onto a sweeping view of the side of the neighbouring block.

"Good view," he said before he could stop himself.

Nikolai paused at the small kitchenette counter, one dark eyebrow raised. "It's easier to keep the light out without a view."

He hadn't thought of that. As if he needed to feel more stupid than he already did. He'd let the vans and the rest of the team head back to the station without him, sending a quick message to Bill to let him know where he was and setting up his phone to send his supervisor location info every half-hour.

He wasn't a complete idiot.

"Do you rent this out?" he asked, peering into the small rooms off the main living space and finding them all equally spotless, and all without any personal touch.

"Sometimes," Nikolai said. He'd produced two wine bottles from the countertop fridge, crystal glasses from a cupboard. Only when Aaron saw the second bottle did he finally understand what Nikolai had meant about the wine.

The vampire caught his look. "That one isn't spiked." He pushed the one on the left across the counter. When Aaron still hesitated, he snorted softly and shrugged. "I spike it myself, Evans, I know which bottles I haven't used."

"What do you mean?"

A violet glance, and then dark red liquid splashed into one of the glasses, a little thicker than wine was supposed to be. "I create my own supply. Gang suppliers are all grifters. You never know what you're getting."

"Or who," Aaron said, before he could think better of it. But Nikolai only laughed.

"Everything you saw tonight, Evans, and you've gone white as a sheet at some bloodied wine. You had a better reaction to Tana wanting to take you as one of her pets."

He was right. He usually was. But somehow, despite his determination and all his professional training, he'd allowed himself to forget what it meant to work with a vampire. That in their dynamic, he was always potential prey. He'd known it in a logical sense, an abstract sense – he'd kept a hold on himself when they first started working together - but between dealing with the Nocturnes and sniping at each other most of the night, he'd made the mistake of thinking of Nikolai as just another colleague, instead of as another predator. He should be re-establishing those boundaries, not confusing them by accepting these kinds of invitations.

"You can leave," Nikolai said. Aaron met his eyes, hazel to violet, and realised the man had watched that whole thought train play out across his face like he was reading a book. "If you'd like. I'll drive you to the station."

Aaron's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he glanced at the text reply from Bill.

Don't do anything foolish, Evans. Keep your location on.

His heart kicked up a notch.

"I wouldn't recommend you walk," the vampire continued. "The Nocturnes have operations in this part of the city."