Vampiric Interdiction

[23] Diverting His Path

Villahr placed a gentle kiss on the elder faelna’s hand and smiled brightly up at her as he lifted his head back up from a deep bow.

“Am I proud?” he repeated her words, his tongue darting out to wet his lips briefly. “Immensely!” Kayya grinned, her eyes crinkling as she did, and rested her hand on her son’s forearm.

Kayya was no stranger to these events, nor the sparkling plaques and crisply pressed certificates that came with them, but she did an excellent job of playing the part of the modest surgeon. Clearly this was a trait not passed to Karolinna, who speaking of which was still nowhere to be seen.

For most of the event so far, Villahr was working hard to mingle with anyone and everyone. Making small talk with the guests as well as doing all he could to distract from the fact that the guest of honour’s only daughter was not amount the esteemed visitors.

He was dragged this way and that about the dining hall, which was even more grand now that all the chairs and other furnishings were pushed off to the side. Though it was meant to be Kayya’s big night, and Villahr was just their for support, he was feeling more like the prized stallion than anything else.

Taking a hold of the hand still lain on his arm, he folded his own atop it to get Kayya’s attention without verbally injecting himself into the conversation she was currently having with Danah and another male dressed in a navy suit.

Curving his digits and pressing the first two fingers against his thumb to make an ‘O’ shape, Villahr hinted at his thirst by tilting his hand to his lips. Kayya nodded. After bowing towards the couple that stood next to his mother —who was now watching him as if he’d just dropped a tray of empty glasses and warranted the attention of the whole room — Villahr turned from them and headed off toward the refreshments.

A man dressed in black from head-to-toe stood behind the counter, watching Villahr through olive eyes, with an almost mechanical grin on his face. His wavy mop of hair flopped awkwardly over his eyes when he turned on a dime at first notice of the pale one’s presence. His smile did not falter in the slightest.

He flipped the layers of chestnut from his sight and his smile grew even wider still when he caught a good eyeful of the god leaning effortlessly against the drink surface.

Villahr cast a quick glance up from his hand where he was examining a deep scratch he had just made with his nail to see the younger male giving him the once over. When he brought his attention back to his palm the flesh was unmarked, but a small pool of greyish liquid remained in the dip of his palm. Yanking a small, cream kerchief from his pocket, the elna balled it up in his bloodied hand before locking eyes with the man before him.

“You’ll be getting no tip from me, so you can forget about that prospect right now, and—” Villahr’s remark broke off harshly as his eyes surveyed the odd familiarity of the other male of their own accord. They found a tell-tale scar on the side of his neck that his collar didn’t quite cover, and he smirked with slight amusement.

“Not tonight,” he finished his sentence, though the words were not the ones originally intended upon completing it.

Those were teeth marks on the brunette’s neck, and Villahr distinctly remembered now the exact evening he himself had put them there. His days of promiscuity weren’t exactly over, just few and far between.

‘Tyler’, as his name-tag read, near immediately lost all extra gusto as the thought that he might once more bag the bosses son shrivelled up and died, like a fly falling head-first into a mug of steaming coffee. He pulled at the opening of his shirt to release the sudden tightness he felt and the heat creeping up his throat, and tried to direct his focus back to the task he had been hired for.