Beneath A Casanova {#1}

Part 12

Part 12

Dante stirred, feeling a presence sharing the same room as he. It took only a split second to realize that the presence was a human, and he sat up, opening eyes immediately to a partially lit room.

At the corner of his room, where he kept his precious books about his family heritage neatly in a bookshelf, was Alvron. His descendant.

“You’re awake. Do you know you sleep literally like the dead?” Alvron greeted, but Dante was more interested in taming down his vampire thirst for human blood. He reached quickly to the bedside table, glad that he always kept a box of Blood Pills close by.

Tossing back two Blood Pills did not give immediate relief to his growing hunger, but at least his nerves calmed down knowing that he would feel the full effects in a short while. Calming down worked wonders on thinking through the blood red haze of his mind, and he fully registered Alvron in his room, and the consequences of such.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Especially not after I’ve just woken up.” Dante spoke, but his voice was scratchy and hoarse. He was reminded by the wound he received yesterday and felt around his bandage, glad that he couldn’t feel any wound nor pain in that area. His voice box would take a short while more to right itself though. For the moment, Dante thanked his lucky stars that the next round of major auditions were at the end of the week.

“What, you’re scared of someone seeing your bedhead?” Alvron asked, not looking up from an old journal belonging to the original Giacomo Casanova, his father. Dante wanted to be as cool as the man about being in his room, but the fact that Alvron had narrowly missed being a snack for Dante showed the vampire exactly how cautious –or the lack of it –his descendant was against him.

“A vampire is hungriest when he wakes up. Who let you in?” Dante growled softly, though feeling a little less hungry now that the Blood Pills were working in his –and Alvron’s –favor.

“A vamp called Jack. He seemed really cool about bringing me down here though the others keep on warning us not to come down.” Alvron replied, more wary this time upon the realization that he’d just missed his death by Dante’s sheer control.

A flash of anger flitted through Dante, but he controlled his reactions enough not to show it. Jack might have thought letting Alvron into his room as a joke, but Jack should know –better than anyone, as a scientist –that vampires were hungriest when they first woke up. They were going to have a long chat after this, and Dante considered bringing his stake along for such the occasion.

“Don’t listen to Jack. We’ve got something against each other. What are you doing here in my room?” Dante briefly considered chasing the young man out of his room, before he decided the better of it. If Alvron could find it in himself to forgive Dante for his past actions –none of which really affected Alvron directly –then maybe Dante could forgive himself for betraying his wife and son.

It took Dante a long while –too –to remember that he hadn’t been sleeping peacefully in his bed when he passed out the night before. Hadn’t he been trying to climb up the stairs to make sure that both Lexi and Alvron were free from danger? How had he gotten back into his bed? Someone must have found him on the stairs.

“Discovering how much of a thief my undead ancestor is. Do you know what you have here could have given me a way more comprehensive coverage of what I knew about my world-famous ancestor?” Alvron motioned to the open journal on his lap.

“My father trusted me with his books. He didn’t mandate for me to place it in the Casanova Library. I’d actually like to have something belonging to my father that isn’t scrutinized by the open public, or our fellow descendants.” Dante got lazily out of bed, stretching to look more than feel comfortable, feeling as Alvron’s intelligent eyes pegged on him.