the blood is rare (and sweet as cherry wine)

the blood is rare (and as sweet as cherry)

Being at the top of the food chain came with certain conditions, conditions which a person had no
means to find out as long as they were human. After all, why would a human consider the
possibility of a predator that feasted on them merely for the sake of enjoyment? Why would a
human consider the possibility of something else being the apex predator?
Louis Tomlinson had found out the existence of such beings at a drug-bust gone horribly wrong.
There had been no regrets flashing behind his eyes, or a reel of memories playing as the last of his
breath had left his lungs, the sharp sting on his shoulder and the stench of blood were the only
things he had sensed as his body went lax.
After all the years that had passed between then and now, he still remembered each detail
precisely. How the teeth had torn through the back of his shoulder, sinking deeper and deeper,
ripping through the muscles and tendons. The chilling ache as his body had been paralyzed by his
attacker. Some days, he could feel his shoulder smarting at the reminder of a phantom ache.
He had remembered it all so vividly after regaining consciousness, as if it was an event he had
witnessed rather than experience. On rare occasions, Louis considered what would have happened
if he had died that day rather than being turned into this.
The answer was often depressing. No one would have missed him, or maybe his mother would
have. Louis was nearly a century old now, so even that thought was no longer comforting, he had
buried his mother a couple decades ago. It only reminded him how lonely he was in this world,
how excruciatingly long life could be when you had to watch every single person you ever loved
being eventually returned to the ground.
Immortality was no gift, not when it could tire a person to their bones with one ache after another,
whether physical or metaphorical.
There were those who turned another human into their kind to spend a miserable lifetime together,
but Louis would never go down that path. He had been made into this against his will, and he
would never do that injustice to another living being.
The other miserable part was that he could not meet someone like himself, and if he ever did, he
was sure he would never be able to stand their company. Although, there was one person who had
garnered his attention despite how strongly he refused to admit it.
The conditions for being the apex predator came into play to aid his lonely life further. He had
been a vampire for merely a century, not old enough to be taken seriously by the elites- still
considered young by their standards. Being turned in his late twenties didn't help either, no matter
how much knowledge he had gained and would gain, he would always look too young to be heard.
What would have helped was if he had been turned by an elite, but as ever, his luck had been
digging itself a grave for it was a lowly vampire who had bitten him.
Who knew there were ranks even amongst the top predators?
Louis did not crave for a romantic involvement, what he craved was companionship. Someone to
share the mundane aspects of his days with, to sit by the fire burning in the hearth and soaking the
warmth his body naturally lacked.
Since nothing of that sort was happening, Louis kept his days busy by working as a cop, not like he
could die again. He stayed away from the vampire colonies, not risking running into an elite and
ruining his day by pretending he held any respect for them. They were all blood-suckers, all of
them equally horrible and abominable, no different than him. If creating ranks for the sake of
dignity helped them ease their conscious, Louis was more than happy to stay out of their way.
The only time he willingly ventured into the colony of his town was when he had to get his
sanctioned blood bags. Only twice a month, but still twice more than Louis would have preferred.
If that was not enough to make him miserable, there was yet another aspect to his undead life that
he resented. Being the only cop who happened to be a vampire, Louis was often tasked with crimes
against humanity, meaning he had to investigate any unnatural death, leading him to the colony
against all of his wishes.
Despite a majority of humans being unaware of their existence, there were certain authorities that
knew of vampires and worked hard to keep peace between the two. Arranging for blood bags so
that humans wouldn't have to suffer through bloodshed, keeping those who didn't know better
away from the colonies under the guise of labeling them as government residences. The police
department fell under such authorities, it would have been rather helpful if that had been the case a
century ago as well. Louis might have not been turned back then if he had known any such
creatures existed.
He was well respected in his field of work, an able cop, a brilliant detective, doing an honest man's
work, but that still was not enough to gain him any semblance of recognition with those of his own
kind. But Louis had grown used to it, accepted it for what it was and no longer bothered with what
the elite thought of him.
Often times a vampire would take too much blood from a human and then compel them to forget it.
Those cases were relatively easier to handle Louis found out, but the current one was a notch or
two above the crimes that occurred in their town.
A body had been found just outside the colony, drained completely and left in an open field for the
crows to feast upon. The marks of two fangs evident at the juncture of their John Doe's neck proved
that it was an elite behind the crime. A low ranked vampire's bite mark disappeared within an hour,
the reason why despite being turned, Louis did not have a mark on his neck.
Louis was leading this investigation, others working alongside him were humans and he had to be
extra careful to not put them in harm's way.
"Our man was a Mr. Gerald Schmidt," Ellis, their forensic expert, said, holding out a worn leather wallet, "Thirty-four, a pharmacist."
"Maybe he messed up some old schmuck's blood order," Niall laughed beside him, shrugging when
Ellis shot him a nasty look.
"Respect the dead, Horan," Louis reprimanded for Ellis' sake and walked over to the corpse after
donning a pair of gloves, "How deep is the skin pierced?"
"I would say a little over one inch, autopsy report will be more thorough," Ellis replied, securing
the wallet in an evidence bag.
"A newly turned vampire then," Louis surmised.
"Or a preempted murder by an elite. They might have chosen not to pierce too deeply if they
wanted to disguise their actions."
Louis shook his head, pointing at the nails of the victim, "He tried to fight and flee, can't do that
against an elite."
"So, the murderer could be a vampire who was recently turned and left to their own devices," Niall
said.
The perimeter was secured by yellow tape as the forensics team gathered evidence. Louis shrugged
in response, "Or they might've killed for fun. Who can tell with these elites?"
"We will have to interview them, though," Niall reminded, "If you're not up for it, I can go with
Ellis."
Louis huffed at the suggestion, "And what? Risk getting either or both of you killed by our
murderer? I'd rather have you two stay alive."
"Because we are the best," Ellis' voice was smug even though her face was pinched in
concentration, "Admit it, boss."
"Don't call me boss," he grumbled, doing a careful sweep around the corpse with his eyes. If this
was unplanned, there would have been more evidence left behind, but it seemed to have been
thought out. The man had been alive when he came here, he had known his killer, had been
comfortable enough to venture close to the vampire colony in the dead of the night- a crime of
passion, then. "Horan, you'll come with me to the colony. Ellis, get me that autopsy report at the
latest."
"Yes, boss," she gave a short salute.
Louis did not correct her again, she had not stopped in years, she would certainly not stop now.
The usual unease settled in as soon as they drove past the barricaded entrance, a drastic change in
the air noticeable only by Louis. Warmth surrounded him even inside his patrol car, but it was
unsettling, not the one Louis craved, rather a false sense of welcome.
He drove past the distribution center, an itch at his gums had him gritting his teeth. He had had a
bag just a week ago, he was good for another whole week, but the mere sight of the building
reminded him of what he was, of where he was. Dinner would have to be cooked in blood that
night, Louis certainly deserved it after bearing with the high society elites during the day.
Beside him, Niall was a picture of complete calm. It was a front, Louis could tell by the slightest clench of his companion's jaw. He chose not to comment on it, it was Niall's fight or flight instinct
guiding him. The man was tough as iron, it was not his first time confronting vampires, and
certainly wouldn't be last.
As expected, most elites had an excuse to turn down his request for inquiry, either having a strong
alibi or outright refusing to answer any questions unless he had a warrant.
He parked the car in front of the last house, staring at it with resignation. He knew that was the
only place he would get any semblance of an answer from, but that still didn't provide any
enthusiasm to approach its resident. The owner of the house evoked a feeling in Louis that he had
resolved not to name, the intensity of it scared him enough in the first place.
"You alright, boss?" Niall asked.
Louis let out a voluntary breath and nodded, "You can stay in the car for this one."
"Nah, I would like to see who has you this stressed," the man grinned.
Louis clenched his eyes, bracing himself as he stepped out of the car, "I'm advising you to stay here
for your own good."
"Don't worry, boss, I can hold my own against any vampire," Niall patted his holster, a special
grade pistol secured inside it.
"Fine by me."
They walked up to the gates, ringing the doorbell encased within a tasteful pattern of swirls. Hardly
a moment passed before one of the doors swung open and Louis was greeted by the familiar
fanged smile, green eyes surrounded by a ring of crimson peering down at him.
"Officer," the man all but purred, "I had been looking forward to seeing you all morning."
"You shouldn't be looking forward to police showing up at your doorstep after a crime, Mr.
Edward," he raised an eyebrow when those eyes swept down his body, the barest hint of interest
slipping past the man's guard.
"Please, Officer, it's Harry for you," the man smiled again, stepping aside and gesturing them
inside with an extended arm, "Do come in. And who is this companion of yours?"
"Agent Niall Horan," Niall introduced himself, being clever not to extend his hand for a greeting.
"Nice to meet you, Agent Horan. Tell me, what do you drink?"
"Just water for him," Louis answered hurriedly, narrowing his eyes as Harry's mouth twitched at
the corners. Harry walked them to the sitting room and then asked them to wait as he disappeared
behind a door.
"Why has he invited us inside?" Niall asked.
"Because he is the least snobbish of them all."
"You sure about that, boss?" Niall gestured to the furniture and decorations around them, "Seems
too extravagant, more than what I could see in other houses from the outside."
"I said he is less snobbish, but he has a knack for collecting the weirdest things," he rolled his eyes.
"You know him quite well, yet we have never heard of him before."
"Mr. Edward has helped with a few cases in the past, nothing else."
"I didn't imply anything else," Niall smirked.
Louis gritted his teeth, "Shut it, Horan."
"Sure," Niall said, still smiling. "Harry Edward, such an odd name."
"His name is Harold Edward the Third," he clarified, giving a short laugh, "But he tries to keep up
with the times."
"Officer, I see you're giving away my secrets already," Harry said as he entered the room, carrying
an antique tray.
"It's hardly a secret, Mr. Edward, it's in the records," Louis accepted the delicate glass, cutting a
glance at the man when the underlying scent hit him, "A little early to indulge in such things, isn't
it?"
"You've had a long morning, I'm sure. Merely looking after your health, Officer," Harry smiled.
"You don't need to concern yourself with that."
"Someone has to."
Louis felt the soft caress in his words, suppressing a shiver at the fair-intention of them.
Niall cleared his throat, making Louis snap his gaze away.
"We have a few questions," Louis said after taking a gulp of the wine laced with blood, the alcohol
wouldn't affect him, but as Harry said, the blood would surely strengthen him.
"I'll be happy to answer them," Harry sat opposite to them, his own glass held in an elegant
manner, long fingers curling around the stem. It should be illegal for someone to look this poised in
the morning, especially someone who was mostly dead. The man crossed one leg over the other,
definition of calm and collected in the actual sense.
"We would like to know where you were between midnight to six this morning," Niall said.
"At home."
"Can someone verify your presence here?"
"Mr. Jenkins, my neighbour, can attest to that. Also, there are surveillance cameras placed on this
street, so you can check my whereabouts. I got back home around seven in the evening, and have
been here since then."
"We already asked Mr. Jenkins," Louis said, "He did say you were here, and we will pull up the
surveillance feed later for review."
"How else may I help you then?" Harry asked, swirling the red liquid in his glass and finally taking
a sip, lips quirking up at the corners.
He did not meet Niall's surprised gaze when he answered the other vampire's question, "We need
your help. I need your help."
Harry smiled as if he had known that all along, Louis wouldn't be surprised if he did. "Always
happy to help you, Officer."
"We are heading to the victim's family, you could come with us," Niall added, quickly adjusting to
the change Louis had sprung on him, "You can answer more of our queries on the way over."
"Have you interviewed the other colony residents already?"
"Yes, not that it was very helpful," Louis sighed, averting his gaze when Harry's eyes lingered on
him.
"I shall accompany you tomorrow for the interviews as well," Harry offered, finally taking his eyes
off of Louis as he swirled the wine, "I am sure there is something we will be able to get out of
them."
"Why are you helping us?" Niall asked bluntly, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
At that, Harry's lips curled into a semblance of smile, "Various reasons, but none malicious, I
assure you."
"That's not very reassuring."
"Niall," Louis interrupted, "Mr. Edward here has pure intentions, at least concerning the case."
"Officer, are you implying that I have some hidden nefarious intentions?"
"I never know what your intentions actually are."
Harry's face softened and Louis felt his un-beating heart stutter, a vague thought occurring to him
that Niall shouldn't be present to witness this.
"You only have to see," Harry spoke, his voice low, comforting.
Louis felt stuck in place, the warmth hidden beneath the other vampire's words curling around him
like vines.
Beside him, Niall cleared his throat again, placing down his empty glass, "We should leave now."
"Of course," Harry stood swiftly, taking their glasses, fingers brushing against Louis' as he did so.
"What is it with you, boss?" Niall whispered when they were alone in the room again. Not that the
whispering helped with the other vampire's heightened sense of hearing, perks of being an elite.
"Nothing," he mumbled, "Ignore it, there are more important things to focus on."
-
Louis suppressed a smile as he looked at Niall from the rear-view mirror, the man was pouting at
being assigned the back seat, arms crossed over his middle and face turned to look out the glass
window.
"Mr. Edward," Louis started, "We have some suspicion that it was a newly turned behind the
murder, more will be confirmed by tomorrow when I get the autopsy report. How many of those
are there in the colony?"
"A little over seventy," Harry answered, "A third of the colony is made of them."

"I didn't see that many vampires during the investigation," his brows furrowed, they had only seen
a couple dozen vampires.
"The elites who aid in the adjusting of newly turned often take them to their own remote
properties, ones that the government can't keep a watch over as they are guarded by spells from a
millennia ago."
"Are you supposed to tell us that?" Surely, something like that was not meant for the knowledge of
a lowly vampire and a human.
"You're not supposed to know that," Harry clarified, "But I can reveal whatever I wish to."
Louis pursed his mouth, Harry was selectively revealing information, keeping them mostly in the
dark. He wondered what deep, dark secrets these elites hid from them. "Anyway, how are we going
to question them if we don't know where they live?"
Harry chose to stay quiet at that, eyes sparkling with mirth. Louis huffed and looked back at the
road, "You know their location, you can take us there."
"No," Harry simply replied, smiling when Louis glared at him, "I know I wouldn't want someone
else stepping into my ancestral home, naturally, neither would they. Also, I do not wish to drain my
energy by visiting all those houses, the spells bound into the walls are meant to repel and harm
anyone who is not welcomed."
"Surely, you would be welcome anywhere," Louis rolled his eyes, "Your record puts your rebirth
around the beginning of AD, that gives you certain command over the other elites, or at least I
thought so."
His own reminder of Harry's age had him shivering involuntarily, the vampire beside him was one
of the strongest, certainly powerful beyond Louis' imagination. And it was surreal how young he
looked, how pristine, commanding the air around him with an ease that was natural to him. Harry
was a predator, the kind that had roamed the lands long before any decorum of conduct existed,
those who were more familiar with their animalistic side than the human one.
"Yes, that is true, but you wouldn't be welcome there and it could hurt you."
"We will only find out by visiting."
"No," Harry said with a finality to his tone, "I'm not putting you in harm's way, Officer."
"It's not for you to decide," he gritted, relaxing his posture when he sensed Niall's discomfort.
The red of Harry's eyes flashed at him, "I am not taking you there. Whether you accept it or not
doesn't really matter."
"Let's see what the family has to say," Niall spoke, cutting the tension between the two vampires,
"We can hatch a plan from there."
Louis dropped his shoulders and nodded, "Alright."
The remainder of the ride was spent in silence, and Louis realised that he hated the air of conflict
between him and Harry.
The victim's family only sang his praises, their answers much too similar and defending the man;
he had no enemies, a simple man who did an honest man's work and loved his family. It was too
simplistic to be believable. Louis took their words at face value and returned to Harry's side while
Niall questioned the neighbours.
"I'm sorry," he spoke when he was close enough, keeping his eyes down, "I shouldn't have tried to
push for something I know nothing about."
"Don't be, Officer," Harry answered softly, giving Louis the courage to look up. "You are doing
your job, and I'm doing mine."
"And what's that?"
"Protecting you from venturing into deep waters."
"Why?" He asked, gulping at the intensity in the vampire's eyes. The moment suspended between
them like a never ending ocean, waves rippling toward the land, toppling over every feeling Louis
kept suppressed deep in his chest.
Harry shrugged after a beat, looking away and breaking the temporary connection, "I've told you,
someone has to."
"Boss!" Niall called from one house over, waiting as the two vampires made their way over to him.
Louis welcomed the opportunity to escape wherever the conversation was heading, Harry always
succeeded in evoking dormant feelings in him, ones he tried too hard to subdue.
"What is it?" He asked, relaxing his posture as he noticed the woman stepping away from him and
Harry. He gave an encouraging nod to her when Niall asked her to repeat her statement to them.
"My son, Terence, he works the night shift at Mary-Anne Hospital. After he leaves, I sometimes sit
on the porch before going to sleep. Mr. Schmidt, he used to come back just as Terry left, but for
some time now, he wasn't coming back until late hours," Mrs. Price told them, "And last night, I
didn't see him come home at all."
"Thank you, Mrs. Price," Niall smiled at the woman, "We will contact you if we have any other
questions."
Mrs. Price seemed to hesitate before nodding and shuffling back inside, shutting the door quietly
and drawing the blinds close.
"Weird." Niall turned to him with raised eyebrows, "But honestly not the most weird thing since
morning. Am I right, boss?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"That you have a friend you have kept a secret."
"We are not friends," Louis huffed, walking back to the Schmidt family and ignoring Harry's
chuckle, "Merely acquaintances."
"I'm wounded, Officer."
"Don't worry, it will heal quickly."
While the others had gone back inside, Gerald's youngest daughter stood on the porch, her eyes fixed on them as they approached her.
"Hello again, Kathy. Will you please call your mother?" Harry asked, and the young girl flustered
under his attention.
"Can I tell you something before that?"
"Of course," the vampire kneeled in front of her to be at eye level, smiling gently, "But I think your
mother should be here before you do."
"She wouldn't let us tell you," Kathy complained, fidgeting where she stood.
Louis threw a glance at Niall, receiving a shrug of shoulders in response. He focused his attention
back on the girl.
"I... We all saw daddy with some other lady," Kathy said, "She came to take daddy with her every
day in the morning, but mom won't tell us why daddy went with her. And... and then mom was
angry when daddy came home. Then daddy stopped coming home until mom went to sleep."
"Thank you so much for telling us, Kathy," Harry patted the girl's shoulder, "You are a brave girl."
Mrs. Schmidt stepped out just then, eyes taking them all in before she sighed, "Go inside, Kathy."
She addressed them after closing the door, "I take it she told you about this woman."
"Why were you trying to hide it?" Louis asked.
She shrugged, mouth set in a thin line, "Gerald was cheating on me, I knew that. He wouldn't admit
it, but a wife always knows. And, he is gone now, at least this way I can keep my dignity in the
society."
"You can't withhold information, ma'am," Niall said, "for any reason. Did you see this woman's
face?"
"No," she shook her head, "She stayed in the car, parked on the other side of the road. She had long
hair, dark and straight, that's all I saw."
Louis looked toward Harry, and found the man frowning, probably trying to recall anyone
matching the description from the colony. It was a long shot, a woman having straight, dark hair
would hardly narrow it down.
They asked her a few other questions, apparently the woman picked up Gerald early enough in the
morning for any neighbours to notice.
He dropped Niall at the Bureau on the way back to the colony, ignoring the man's not so subtle
glances between him and Harry.
"There are too many women in the colony who match that description," Harry said eventually,
"And that's assuming that woman is the murderer."
"It is unnatural how none of the neighbours noticed Gerald leaving with some woman everyday."
"There are many unnatural aspects to this case, Officer."
Louis bit the inside of his cheek, it would be difficult to catch this killer, for now they could only
wait for whatever the autopsy revealed.
"How would we even question anyone if they are not in the colony?"
"I'll find a way for you to question them," Harry said, turning away from the window and regarding
him with a look, "Don't go questioning anyone without me."
"Is that an order?" He let a smile slip on his lips, laughing when Harry nodded. "I'm not that bad at
my job, Mr. Edward."
"I know you're good at it, but I worry."
"You shouldn't."
"I can't help it."
He felt the heat creep up the nape of his neck, an unfamiliar flutter in his chest. This man was an
enigma; everything about him screamed dark and danger, but all Louis felt around him was light, as
if he was floating. It felt as if he could let go of all of his troubles and worries and Harry would be
there to see he didn't fall.
"Thank you," he whispered when the flutter had calmed down, "Truly. It-- it's nice of you."
Harry smiled and went back to looking out of the window.
-
Louis could almost tell what each person on his team was thinking in that exact moment. Most
were shocked at the revelation. He was not a hermit, but he did prefer his own company over
others', why Harry was an exception, he himself had no idea. Even then, Louis didn't let himself
indulge in what his instincts asked of him. He had declined Harry's offer for dinner several times in
the past, occasionally agreed to a glass of wine after the man helped him solve a case, and left
before his mind could rule over his actions.
Indulging Harry's company was akin to a forbidden fruit for Louis. It was something that brought
him joy and wonder, a rush of glee, but at the same time he was aware how wrong it was for either
of them to relish in it. A taboo, to put it simply. Elites looked down on him, and to them it was
disrespectful. Since they couldn't oppose Harry, it was Louis who had the pleasure of receiving
their displeasure.
"Get back to work," Louis ordered, striding past them, all too aware of Harry following after him,
probably amused at the situation. He stopped by Ellis' side, Mr. Schmidt's body sporting the
standard dissection stitches.
"What do you have for me?" He asked Ellis, taking the report she handed him and gave a copy to
Harry.
"Mr. Schmidt was turned into a vampire an hour before his death, then once the shift happened, he
was drained of blood," Ellis informed them.
Louis frowned, "Why would the killer turn him into a vampire? Wouldn't it be easier to hunt him as
a human?"
"I wondered that, too, and I have never heard of a vampire drinking another vampire's blood," Ellis
said, "Any research ever conducted has surmised that vampires can't drink the blood of their own
kind."
"It will kill them," Louis added, "So, we either rely on humans or animals."
"In that case, our killer should be dead, but that just doesn't seem right."
"The killer's not dead," Harry spoke, his jaw set in a tight clench.
"How do you know?" Louis asked, concerned at the hint of anger seeping onto the man's face.
Harry met his gaze, hesitation replacing the previous anger, "It's-- a umm, a perk of being an elite,
you could say."
"What? Drinking from their own kind?"
"No, not that, even we can't do that," Harry wetted his lip and checked their surroundings, "Ever
heard of true mates?" The man nodded to himself when neither he or Ellis responded. "It is a
heavily guarded secret of our kind, and I'm afraid I can't reveal it to you miss Ellis." He looked
apologetic at least. "Officer, stop by my place tonight, I'll have some books ready for you, and I'll
answer whatever queries you have."
"It is not wise to delay the investigation when you have some information."
"Information I can't disclose publicly."
"Can't or won't?"
"Take your pick, Officer," Harry looked offended at the distrust Louis projected, "There are certain
aspects of being an elite that you won't understand until you are one."
Louis scoffed at that, "Trust me, I'm not looking forward to that."
There was definitely something Harry wanted to say at that moment, but held back, instead
choosing a different path.
"You think of us as villains, but we are not."
"I'm entitled to have my own opinion," he countered.
Harry's face shuttered at that, the man gave a single nod and stepped away, "I'll have the books
ready, you can pick them up whenever."
The redacted offer to stay stung him, but he refrained from letting it on. He watched Harry leave,
trying not think too much about the guilt setting in place, of the hurt in his chest.
"We should be thankful for his help, not offend him," Ellis remarked quietly.
"I know," he sighed, "I-- I'll apologise later."
"I know you think ill of the elites, but he seems decent."
"He is," Louis agreed, "And that-- bothers me sometimes."
"Because he does not fit the mould you have constructed for his kind?"
"Maybe," he shrugged, and then sighed, looking back at the report, "What else did you find?"
Louis lingered outside for a long while, dallying between running back to his car and ringing the
bell. The cold had started to seep past his coat and muffler, and into his skin, a little longer and he
would lose the feeling in his fingers.
It was rather childish, this hesitancy of his. Harry would always welcome him, of that he was sure,
it was his own guilt that had him considering turning back.
The door opened before Louis could choose between either. He held up the bottle of wine and then
thrust it into Harry's arms, "I hope it is not pure swill."
Harry looked at him for a few moments and then huffed out a laugh, "Come in, we are not that
prone to cold."
"You saw me creeping outside, did you?"
"For the last twenty minutes, yes," the man nodded, helping him out of his coat, taking his muffler
and gloves as well.
"I... um-- I'm-"
"Please, don't apologise."
"I was rather rude this morning," he spoke nonetheless, "I don't think any of that about you."
Harry smiled, leading him inside, the warmth replacing the chill on his skin. "I know, and I'm
grateful."
"That wine," he said in an attempt to change the topic, "You can throw it away if it is trash."
"I think it's good," Harry regarded the bottle, "But I had another in mind to pair with dinner."
"Oh, I interrupted your dinner," he winced, stupid of him to stay when Harry had taken back the
offer earlier.
"Well, I did make it for two, if you would like to stay," Harry looked hopeful, that same hope
Louis had crushed numerous times before. He couldn't find it in himself to do that again, he didn't
want to do that again.
"I think I would."
Harry's answering smile was a gift of its own. He followed after the man to the kitchen where a
delicious smell enveloped him.
There was a bottle of wine on the decanter, and Louis moved toward it curiously, noting the year
on the faded label. His eyebrows shot up, 1828. The one he had gotten was barely ten years old.
"That's quite an indulgence, Mr. Edward," he said, tilting his head to the bottle.
Harry had donned on an apron and stood by the stove, Louis couldn't decide why he found the
sight mesmerising.
"You could call me Harry, I think we were past the stage of formality after the third case we
worked together."
"In that respect, you can stop with the Officer nonsense."
"But I say that in admiration," Harry turned to him, a spoon in hand, offered toward him.
Louis rolled his eyes to ignore the sudden flush on his face, he closed the distance between them,
letting the man feed him.
"You say that to avoid any familiarity from growing," Harry called him out. This close, Louis
couldn't even try to form a lie in denial. "How is it?"
"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.
"The curry," Harry smiled, cleaning the edge of Louis' mouth with his thumb.
"Oh... it's good," he took a few necessary steps away, leaning against the counter.
"It's Styles, by the way," Harry said, "Edward is my middle name."
Louis was still a little shocked and couldn't properly respond to him.
"If you do insist to refer me by my last name, that is."
"Oh," he said in absence of his brain and mouth coordinating. Clearing his throat, Louis tried to
gain some composure, "So, Harold Edward Styles the Third. That's quite a mouthful."
Harry cut him a glance and shook his head, clearly not taking the bait, "Harry actually, I got it
changed in the records last month."
"How come I never knew it's Styles?" He asked, accepting the glass of wine, the familiar iron and
copper under-taste greeting him at the first sip.
"I thought you would eventually stop calling me Mr. Edward, and then I would tell you," Harry
said, "But you are tough nut, Officer. Eight years and you still won't say my name."
"It means that much to you?" He asked, knowing the answer. Harry didn't reply and he didn't push.
"By the early seventeenth century, Styles family line had dwindled," it was Harry who changed the
topic this time, "In order to avoid suspicion why I was the sole holder of that name, I dropped it for
a few centuries."
"Ah, I remember I've read of the Styles family. You were part of the royal lineage, weren't you?"
"A Count, yes."
Louis snickered into his glass, "Maybe I should address you by Count Styles."
Harry seemed delighted at Louis' teasing, and Louis agreed that it felt liberating to not always
withhold his happiness.
"What are we having?" Under the pretense of asking, he stepped closer again, just shy of touching
the man.
"Chicken Curry and Basmati Rice, made some bread as well."
"No wonder it smells great in here."
"Thank you, Louis," Harry said sincerely.
Louis felt his body freezing over, a single utterance of his name had him inhaling sharply. It
sounded dangerously wonderful how Harry spoke his name in such devoted reverence. He was
unable to will himself to move again, even when the man slanted his eyes toward him, sending him
an all knowing smile.
Wetting his lips, he finally looked away, his face sporting a constant flush of crimson.
"I'll set the table while you finish up," Louis excused himself, scurrying out of the kitchen.
He did set the table, adjusting the centerpiece, the silverware, folding the napkins, and then waited
patiently in his seat.
By the time Harry came out carrying their plates, his mind had calmed down significantly. He
smiled when Harry set the dish in front of him, mirroring his expression before leaving again to get
the wine.
"Did I scare you back there?" Harry asked once he was seated as well.
"Shocked, more like."
"One can get over shock, eventually."
"Quite a welcomed shock, if I'm being honest," he admitted.
The food was great and he said so, the glint in Harry's eye was pleased and proud. Harry was, in a
way, courting him, Louis realised; the home-cooked food, fancy plate setting, an atrociously
expensive wine, it was all meant to please him, and it did, immensely so.
Harry had known Louis would come, had planned to invite him in, had cooked while keeping him
in mind- nothing too typical, rather something Louis could appreciate.
And Louis had happily accepted all of it. He felt happy, felt cherished at someone taking care of
him for once in such a long time.
There was the matter of discussing the case, a pressing matter actually, but Louis did not wish to
bring that up right then. Instead, he listened with rapt attention as Harry told him about the
scandals of the royals. He couldn't remember a time he had laughed that much, had someone
doting on him with a soft gaze and gentle smile.
He abstained from drinking anymore. Alcohol didn't affect them too strongly, but did make them
loose limbed, and Louis had to drive back to his place at some point later in the evening.
After dinner, Harry asked him to start a fire in the hearth of den while the man cleaned up, refusing
Louis' help.
The room matched the aesthetic of the rest of the house, dark wood and plush upholstery, and of
course, eccentric trinkets. He took a closer look of the clock above the fireplace, the seconds hand
ticking backwards at double pace, symbols resembling numbers flipped as a minute passed. Beside
it was a frame with no place for a photo, rather a multicoloured thread passed zigzag across it.
Louis laughed to himself as he realised that those were somewhat tame compared to everything
else he had seen in the house. The karuta placed at the entrance of the house certainly made an
impression.
"Admiring the collection, or judging the owner?" Harry's voice made him pull away from the clock. "Doubting if I have gone mad over the two millenia?"
"Simply admiring, for now," he smiled over his shoulder, "Or are you confessing to your
craziness?"
"Not yet," Harry laughed, coming to stand beside him and offering the dessert plate, "Caramel
pecan skillet brownie."
Louis almost moaned at the first bite, his eyes slipping close, "I think there is hope for me to
develop a sweet tooth after all."
"I'll be happy to aid in your endeavour," Harry turned away from the fireplace, motioning to the
sofas, "Shall we sit?"
The single sofas managed to put some space between them, something direly needed for Louis'
rapidly plunging heart. A single evening spent dining with the man had Louis' defences crushed to
dust. He had always been aware of Harry's charm, but had never given a voice or word to his own
feelings. There was a reason he had refused the dinner offers over the years, so that he would never
get too attached, but here he was, realising the web that had long since been spun around him.
Was he a prey? Or was he being protected?
Protected, his mind supplied in firm assurance. And it was true. Harry had protected him over the
years, had worried for his health and well-being even when Louis refused to admit it for what it
was.
"The true mates theory," Harry interrupted his thoughts, eyes fixed on the crackling flames, "It is
one that has been proved correct multiple times. Normally, one vampire can't drink from another, it
is a fail-safe to ensure our kind never goes extinct. The only exception is a pair of true mates."
"And what are true mates?"
"In the basest nature, they are two people who compliment each other in all possible ways, who are
made for each other- soulmates, we can say."
Louis scoffed, "And you mean to tell me that Mr. Schmidt was murdered by his true mate? If such
a thing is even true."
Harry sighed and turned his attention onto him, "Yes. The concept of true mates is believed to
origin for our kind in particular. Living for an eternity can certainly be draining, but it helps when
there is someone who would accept you, and who you would accept."
Unable to bear the force of Harry's emotion, Louis chose to concentrate on his dessert, "Be that as it
may, it still doesn't clarify why someone would kill their true mate?"
Someone who would accept you, and who you would accept.
Harry did accept him, didn't he? Despite Louis not being an elite, Harry accepted him, held him in
high regard, admired his work, considered them friends, did not care for the taboo of associating
with him. And Louis, Louis accepted all of his eccentric tendencies in return, appreciated his
company over anyone else's. If he dared to open his heart and accept what was inside, Louis would
admit that spending an eternity beside Harry sounded delightful.
The conviction of his own emotions was shocking. The epiphany of his feelings had his body
going numb, gratefully he was sitting already.
"I... have a theory about that," Harry said, bringing him back to the present, "But you need to be
aware of the distinction between an elite vampire and one who is not."
"You can call me out on my bias without being too careful," he gave a small smile for Harry's
hesitancy.
Harry laughed lightly, "Well, you do consider us villains."
"Not you, though," he reminded, blushing at the way Harry seemed to melt at it, "So, what is the
distinction?"
"Right," Harry cleared his throat, "To become an elite, a vampire needs to live for at least four
centuries, even those who are turned by an elite in the first place. The position isn't one granted by
others, it is one we inherit ourself, there are changes that would seem impossible before. The
ability to see your true mate is one of those. It is like a prize- you have survived this long, so here
you go, you get to spend the rest of this long, long life with one person who is your equal."
Louis contemplated this revelation for a while before asking the obvious question, "But we have
surmised that the killer is a newly turned. How would they know Mr. Schmidt was their true
mate?"
Harry's proud expression had him blushing again, "Those turned by elites inherit an instinct, they
would not know for sure if the person they are presuming to be their true mate is really that or not,
but a strong compulsion follows them once they have met."
"The killer presumed Gerald was their true mate, turned him into a vampire and drank from him to
confirm it, lost control and drained the man."
"Essentially," Harry nodded, "There might be other details that only the killer could confirm."
Louis huffed and fell back against the sofa, "So much for being true mates."
"It isn't always bad," Harry said, "Finding your true mate is like a breath of fresh air, one you get to
inhale every moment."
"Have you met yours?" He asked in a whisper before he could stop himself.
Harry gulped and looked at him for a long, long moment, neither of them breaking the contact.
There was something niggling at the back of his mind, something about the last eight years he
should have understood in that moment.
Later, he would realise it had always been right in front of him, right there for him to catch that
scent of copper and iron and just know.
"It's... uhm, it's getting late," Louis managed to say, his throat dry, "I should get going."
"Yes, yes, of course," Harry cleared his throat, standing and collecting their plates, "If you'll wait a
minute, I'll get those books I mentioned."
"Sure."
Standing at the door, holding the books to his chest, Louis couldn't find it in himself to part from
this evening.
"I will return them as soon as I can," he said in hopes of prolonging their time together.
Harry smiled with a minute shake of his head, "Take your time, Officer, please."
"Thanks," he smiled back, "And thanks for the dinner."
"You're welcome."
"Next time, maybe I could cook for us. I promise I'm not that bad," he chuckled lightly, trying to
cover his nerves.
"I have every faith in your skill," Harry said, "But you don't have to."
"Please, I insist."
"Well, then, how could I ever refuse?"
Searching for courage that he surely didn't possess, Louis leaned on his toes and pressed his lips to
Harry's cheek, leaving a light kiss before stepping away, "Goodnight, Harry."
Harry, for all his calm and collected demeanour, seemed utterly baffled, unable to form a reply.
Louis laughed to himself and left hurriedly, a flutter of nerves and butterflies dancing in his
stomach. He found the man smiling shyly as he looked over his shoulder, wearing a hue of crimson
on his face similar to Louis'.
-
The case had come to a standstill over the following days. They had no lead, and whatever
interviews they managed with Harry's help did not bring anything new to the table.
That aside, Louis and Harry kept things professional, neither bringing up the events of the dinner,
and Louis couldn't decide if he felt relieved or not. On one hand, it was beneficial to the case if
they focused on it rather than whatever feelings came to light in the wake of that evening, but on
the other hand all Louis wanted was to go back to that cocoon of warmth and safety.
Despite what he wanted, Louis focused on other cases while Mr. Schmidt's file sat cold on his
desk. It was on a stakeout of one such case that he received Harry's text. The man had found a way
for Louis to get his answers and had asked him to meet that evening.
Grasping the presented opportunity, Louis invited Harry over for dinner, they could discuss
whatever Harry had found and maybe Louis could find the courage to act on what he had only
recently accepted to himself.
Harry showed up at precisely half past six, making Louis pause at the threshold with how
appealing he looked while in comparison it must seem like Louis had paid no mind and wore
whatever his fingers could first reach. Though, the raking eyes suggested otherwise.
"Hey," he whispered finally, only then noticing the smile at his own face.
"Good evening, Officer," Harry held his hand deftly, bringing it up and kissing the back of it.
The moment suspended in the air around them, warming it with thinly veiled intentions and the
actual ferocity of them. Louis stopped keeping an account of how often he blushed around the
man. Harry was charming, and Louis had met a lot of charming men in his life, but none of them
held a candle against Harry, they dimmed in comparison as if the man in front of him was the
source of all the light in his life.
"Such a gentleman," his teasing tone did not carry, breathy as it came out, and Harry seemed to
take a personal pride in it. "Come in, please."
Louis only noticed the wrapped bottle in Harry's hand when the man offered it to him after going
over the threshold, some investigator he was.
"Dalmore whiskey, aged for forty-eight years."
"No wine this time, Mr. Styles?" He teased, appreciating the aesthetic of the bottle; a stag engraved
on the glass containing the dark, honey-coloured liquid.
"I presumed you were more of a whiskey man, even though you have indulged in my fascination of
wines these past eight years."
"I hope that doesn't mean I won't get to taste your wine again."
Harry laughed behind him, following after him to the dining room, "I would have been offended if
you had refused to ever drink wine again."
"A personal smite?"
"Something like that." There it was again, the niggling at the back of his head to poke further into
the matter, but it absolved as Harry continued, nodding to the bottle, "Please reserve it for after
dinner."
"Would you like something for now? While the dinner cooks."
"To follow you to the kitchen, if that's alright."
Louis rolled his eyes, offering a hand and letting a grin overtake his face at the man's pleased look.
He couldn't fault Harry for wanting the proximity of each other, even he felt it would be a waste for
them to stay apart for the short duration.
"Tell me, have you suddenly developed the ability to read minds?" Louis asked.
Harry chanced him an amused look, "Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"
"You came to the conclusion that I prefer whiskey to wine, I'm sure I've never told you that."
"I have known you for almost a decade," the man replied, taking a seat at the counter and turning
toward him, "It would be awfully ignorant of me if I hadn't known."
"Then I must fault you," he stepped closer to Harry, not quite touching but definitely invading his
space when Harry showed no opposition, "You deliberately subjected me to years of drinking
wine."
"I never heard you objecting."
"That's only because of the not-so-secret ingredient."
Humming, Harry made to pull him close, parting his legs to let Louis stand between them, "And
what does that ingredient taste like?"
"Other than the obvious copper and iron?" He raised an eyebrow, all too aware of how close they
were, breathing the same air, his hands on Harry's shoulders, Harry's on his waist. His heart
thrummed in his chest.
"Yes."
Louis gulped, remembering the flush of warmth, the sated hunger, the relief he felt each time that
drop landed on his tongue. "Elated, satiated, it felt right. Nothing has ever tasted like that," he
confessed quietly. Blood had never tasted quite right to him, not because of some reservation, he
knew what he had to do to survive, but it had always felt off. It was only when he had first accepted
Harry's offer to stay for a drink that he had known how marvelous it could taste.
Harry's eyes had gone dark at Louis' confession, but Louis saw an entirely different kind of
darkness swimming behind those pools of green and crimson. It did not scare him, he had always
known of Harry's inclination to it, even if to Louis the man resembled a beacon of light.
A thumb traced over his lip, making him inhale sharply. It was the chiming of the oven that had
them becoming aware of anything other than the person in front of them. Louis moved away with a
blushing smile, unable to believe how he had lost himself to Harry's pull.
"I read those books," Louis said once they had sat down to eat. "I can't believe half the things in
there."
"Such as?"
"Werewolves."
Harry laughed at his baffled expression, "But it's true. At the beginning of the era of predators
there were three humanoid species, first you have your regular humans, cunning and ambitious, but
mostly clueless to the existence of other two. Then comes us, vampires, initially driven by a
bloodlust which has dwindled over the centuries. And lastly, there were werewolves."
"Were?"
"The pack mentality and wariness to us and the humans had them going into hiding, it is believed
they went extinct as the world modernised around them."
"That's tragic," Louis frowned, still unsure about the latter species.
Harry hummed across from him, nodding as he said, "It is. Vampires learned from them, started
turning humans into our kind to keep us from having the same fate."
"But that was brought to an end as well," he reminded.
"Yes, wars happened, empires fell, democracies were established, treaties were signed, and now no
vampire can drink from or turn another human without their explicit consent," Harry explained,
"Still, there are those who bargain with the peace every few centuries and turn a hoard of humans
into vampires and ultimately suffer the consequences of it."
"I did wonder what happened to the one who turned me," he murmured, a dormant anger surfacing.
A hint of smirk curved at Harry's mouth, "We killed him."
"What?" He looked at the man again, eyes wide in disbelief as he realised Harry wasn't joking.
"The elites might be indifferent to humans, but a slight against them is taken quite seriously."
"But they still wouldn't help me with this case," he pursed his lips, rubbing a hand down his face,
"If they would just put a pause to their prejudice for a little while."
Harry remained quite, not refusing the claim about the prejudice held against him. Louis shifted the
topic, inquiring about what way Harry had found for him to question the other elites.
"There is a gathering at the end of next week, the neighbouring colonies would be present as well,"
Harry told him, "It's a ritual to welcome the newly turned vampires. I can extend an invitation to
you. If not question, then at least you would be able to observe their mannerism."
"And wouldn't that be frowned upon? Inviting me?"
"Yes, but I called in a few favours with the organising board."
He smiled, holding the man's hand over the table for just a moment, "Thank you, really."
"It's no bother, Officer."
They moved to the fireplace as the night descended upon the sky, carrying their glasses of whiskey.
"You have me," Harry said when they were settled on opposite sofas, smile warm and entirely
affectionate. "Earlier, you mentioned prejudice. It's true, but you also have me."
It made Louis want to melt right there, to turn into the particles suspended in the air, so he could
forever exist in that moment, have Harry look at him like he was the only one that mattered.
His throat felt tight, air barely passing through it, "I shouldn't depend on you."
"Why not?"
"You won't be there forever," he reminded, "You can't always be there for me."
"And what has you believing that?" Harry asked, gentle in his inquisition. "I do not plan to let you
venture alone in this world, not if I can help it. I'll be whatever you want me to be; friend,
acquaintance, even as a stranger I'll look out for you."
"Why? I can't ever truly grasp your intentions," his voice was low, wary as he gave words to his
confusion.
"I always believed my intentions were the most honest part of me, and the most obvious," Harry
placed down his glass, standing to move closer to him, the fire reflecting beautifully in his soft
gaze. Louis accepted the offered hand, leaving no space between them as he stood, his own glass
long since abandoned. "I've never tried to hide myself from you, Officer."
"No, you haven't," he agreed, unable to decide whether it was Harry's eyes or his mouth that he
wanted to look at.
"Tell me then, what do you believe my intentions truly are?"
He brought a hand up to caress Harry's cheek, other curling at the back of his neck, "To protect me,
and care for me..."
"And?"
He knew, didn't he? The answer to the and. Then why was it so difficult to give it words? Why was
it difficult when he felt that as well? When every part of him was screaming to give voice to what
was secured in his heart. It would be so easy, to accept it, to let go of his reservations and accept
happiness for a change. He would be so happy.
Then why couldn't he just say it?
In the end, Louis looked away, "It's... it's getting late."
"Right." The downright heartbreak in the man's voice, in that single word, had Louis feeling like he
had been drowned in ice-cold water. "I should get going."
"Let me get those books," he said, fleeing the room immediately, cursing at himself for his
cowardice, berating himself as he felt tears threaten to slip past his eyes over his own foolishness.
Harry was dressed in his coat and standing stiffly by the door when Louis returned.
"The dinner was lovely, thank you." Still appreciative, still polite. Louis did not deserve his
kindness, did not deserve him. "I will let you know the venue and time for the gathering."
"Won't we be driving together?" The question was out before he could stop himself.
"If you wish to."
"I do, please."
"Alright, I will pick you up then. Goodnight, Louis."
"Goodnight, Mr. Styles."
Another barrier brought down. Why was he sabotaging everything?
Disappointment was clear on Harry's face but the man did not call him out, instead left after a polite
smile.
I'm not his true mate, I did the right thing. Louis thought. Then why did it feel like a lie?
-
Niall and Ellis eyed him for a long moment, abandoning their lunches in lieu of staring at him.
"What?" He snapped when his patience ran thin.
It was Ellis who spoke up, "We haven't seen your boyfriend around lately."
"I don't have a boyfriend," he sighed, rubbing at his temple when the other two scoffed in disbelief.
"Fine then, significant other, lover, better half, whatever you call it," Niall replied. Louis
considered throttling him.
"Where have you been hiding Mr. Edward?" Ellis asked.
"It's Styles, his last name," he corrected.
"That... actually suits him," she laughed. "But not what I asked."
"I don't know where he is, because I'm not his boyfriend," he pointed out, stressing his words.
"Well, you can't blame us for thinking you were," Niall shrugged, "You look at each other like no
one else exists."
And Harry did, didn't he? Always looked at him like he had spotlight atop his head, always putting him on a pedestal, gravitating toward him as if he had no other choice but to follow his pull.
"Shut up and eat your lunch."
For once, they dropped the subject, letting him stew in his thoughts. Why was he opposing so
strongly when every bone inside him ached to belong to the other vampire? Why couldn't he let
himself be happy?
-
Louis made a right turn instead of left as the day ended, sick of the remote silence that had festered
between them for the past two days. He drove for an hour instead of the short ten minutes to his
home. He passed the gates that enveloped him in warmth, still wary of it but no longer adamant to
avoid it.
He parked along the driveway, and did not linger inside the car, not letting his fears lead him
astray. Marching to the door, he rang the bell and waited, a bounce in his leg.
"Louis? What-- is everything alright?" Harry asked, face struck with surprise.
He nodded quickly, "Yeah, I just, I wanted to apologise."
"What for?"
"Well..." he lingered, shifting from one foot to another, wringing his hands in front of him.
"Would you like to come in?" Harry asked, always so gentle, stepping aside when Louis nodded.
"Wine?"
"Sure," he smiled, "I have missed it."
Harry smiled in return. His reception of Louis was warm and welcoming, still he couldn't help
noticing that Harry kept him at an arm's length, a certain way he carried himself; distant and
resigned.
He accepted the glass gratefully, appreciating the taste on his palate. Liquid courage, he supposed
he could call it that, even though the effect was neutralised as soon as it touched his tongue.
"Any new developments in the case?" Harry asked in a form of distraction, attempting to put him at
ease, Louis realised.
"Not really," he took another sip, frowning at the gap bridged between them, "That's not why I'm
here."
"To apologise, you said."
"Yes."
"May I remind you, there is never a need for you to apologise to me," Harry turned to angle his
body toward Louis, leaning against the counter. "And I can't recall a reason to anyway."
"That's because you are too kind."
"I wouldn't describe myself as kind," Harry smiled, amused at his word choice.
"You are kind to me," Louis reminded, "You're always kind to me."
The man looked away at that, sipping from his glass, trying to avoid the truth and failing as he
spoke, "Exceptions can't be helped, or avoided."
"Why am I the exception?"
"You know why," Harry seemed pained at the admission, "I can't help what I feel for you, but I do
intend to respect your boundaries."
"I should have stayed the first time you asked me to," he whispered into the quiet between them, "I
wanted to, so badly, but I have always been adamant at denying myself what I most desire."
"Self-sabotaging?" Harry's lips quirked at the corners, "I would have been more insistent had I
known you wanted to stay."
"But you are gentleman who respected my wishes."
"Would you have been here, now, had I pushed back then?"
"I would have fled far away from you," he laughed lightly. Locking eyes with Harry, he bridged
the gap between them, "I do not plan to flee tonight. I intend to stay, if you'll let me, if I haven't
misunderstood everything."
"You haven't," Harry breathed, closing the remaining distance.
"I'm sorry, Harry, I shouldn't have pushed you away," he gulped, cursing at himself for the
tightness in his throat, "I get scared easily when it comes to dealing with my own feelings, and I
am terrified of letting myself accept any sort of happiness. It scares me that one day I'll be
abandoned, with no one to hold me."
Harry cupped his cheek and Louis could no longer hold back his tears, he let Harry pull the glass
free from his fingers, let him brush the tears away from his face, let himself be pulled into an
embrace. "Then let me show you how deeply I care for you, how I never plan to lose you," fingers
caressed down his back, holding him tight, "How you deserve every happiness this world has to
offer." Harry tilted his face up, "Let me show you how easy it is to love you."
He leaned his forehead against Harry's, sighing as a warmth bloomed inside him, "Kiss me,
please."
Harry was reverent in his touches, cherishing Louis, worshiping him with his whole being. Louis
felt weak at the softest brush of their lips, yet he had never felt more strong in his life than in that
moment, he felt rejuvenated with each press of the soft kiss. His hands slid up the man's shoulders
and into his hair, tangling lightly as a moan fell from his lips, swallowed just as quickly by another
pair.
The need to not breathe seemed the greatest thing as Harry kissed him for the longest time, not
parting for more than a moment, and that too to merely lay kisses over his neck, under his eye,
behind his ear.
Harry never broke through his skin, but did not hold back from marking it thoroughly. A part of
Louis ached to feel those teeth sink into his skin, despite whatever repercussions, despite knowing
it wasn't a possibility. His own teeth ached to pierce through the man's pale skin, it was miracle he
held himself back.
"Have you eaten?" Harry asked after a long while, his voice gravely, the colour of his irises barely
distinguishable.

He shook his head, pulling him in for another kiss before replying, "Surprisingly, that wasn't the
first thing on my mind when I planned to come see you."
"I appreciate your wit, Officer, but I can't let you go hungry," Harry brushed the hair away from his
forehead and pressed his lips there, the act carried such domesticity that Louis had to kiss him
again.
"I had a bag just this morning."
"I can tell."
"Can you?" He smirked.
Harry hummed, "The blood is blooming just under your skin."
Louis wanted to ask if Harry felt the need to drink from him as well, if he too ached to taste him.
"But in order for it to hold out longer you need food as sustenance."
"Fine," he relented with a pout, "If you'd rather watch me eat than kiss me."
"Good," Harry pulled away, and Louis smiled at his reluctance.
To Louis' utter disbelief, Harry did just that. After serving him a complicated mixture of vegetables
and meat, Harry sat opposite to him and simply watched him.
"I did not mean you had to actually watch me," he rolled his eyes, munching contentedly at the
carrot.
"I could spend every moment of every day watching you for the rest of my life," the man took his
free hand, lacing their fingers and kissing each one.
Louis bit his lip, grinning as a blush spread on his face, "That's quite a long time."
"Wouldn't feel that way beside you."
He ducked his head, shaking it at how happy he way, "Idiot."
Louis stayed the night, curled beside Harry under the sheets, facing him, committing every inch of
his face to memory, feeling the lips upturn under his fingertips. He wasn't cold anymore, the ever
present chill leaving his body as he pressed close to the other vampire.
Harry seemed entirely too pleased at Louis wearing his clothes, unable to look away where the
collar dipped at front.
Hours passed without either of them realising, too busy memorising the crevices of other's mouth,
marking each other with teeth and whispered confessions.
It was nearing dawn when his eyes started to droop, sleep pulling him under. It was then that he
heard Harry whisper against his ear, just before he succumbed to dreaming.
"I've been waiting my whole life for you."
-
They did talk about the case the following morning. Or rather, they discussed how they would approach the elites at the gathering come Sunday evening.
"Any matters concerning the groups would be discussed first," Harry informed him, "Then
individual concerns. I'm afraid your presence would be brought up then."
"It doesn't matter to me what they have to say."
Harry gave a reluctant nod and continued, "After that the recently turned vampires will be
introduced as fledglings. Our killer should be among them. No one is permitted to miss the
introduction for whatever reason."
"I'm guessing they would be regretting their actions by now," Louis said.
Harry seemed unsure, "They might, or might not. It can go either way."
"What makes you think that?"
"They could be rejoicing, proven right despite not having the complete vision of an elite."
"That's..." he paused, "... terrifying to think of. How could they rejoice killing their mate?"
"Regret would set in sooner or later," Harry sighed, draining his coffee, "Can't go their entire life
without their mate."
"I just want to be done with this case," Louis stretched over the counter, burying his face in his
hands, "It has been going on for too long."
Harry smiled, a proud glint in his eyes, "You are used to wrapping cases quickly."
"It sure as hell doesn't take me weeks."
Harry cupped his cheek then, leaving a soft kiss against his mouth, "Even if you can't catch the
killer, they will turn themself in when regret sets in."
"And what? Let my record sully?" Louis raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk at his mouth, "I have a
strong streak as of now, forty-one cases wrapped back-to-back. I'm not going to let some elite ruin
it for me."
"Ah, yes, the villainous elites," Harry laughed, pulling him out of the seat and into his arms, "We
might just eat you up."
"I would let you," he whispered, laughing when Harry froze.
"You are going to finally put an end to my miserable life."
"Miserable? I thought it was not going to seem miserable now that I'm here."
Harry hummed, "I do not recall saying that."
"It was the gist of it," he grinned, leaning on his toes and capturing the man's lips in a long, sweet
kiss. "What should I wear to the gathering?"
"Well," Harry hesitated, licking his lips before continuing, "I was hoping you'd let me dress you."
"You want to play dress-up," he pursed his lips, not impressed.

"No," Harry rolled his eyes, "Don't demean my gift by turning it into something childish."
"You said it first, and I'm not accepting any gifts. I'll wear a suit."
"How bad would you hate me if I told you I already bought one for you?"
Louis couldn't help smiling at the genuine concern in Harry's voice, "I wouldn't hate you, just think
you are a stupid, stupid man."
"You make me stupid."
"Am I supposed to find that cute?"
"Maybe," Harry shrugged.
Louis shook his head, he really was head over heels for this man, "Let me go, I need to get to the
Bureau, and I need to shower before that."
Harry buried his face against his neck, inhaling deeply, "You smell fantastic to me."
"I am really close to confirming that you have lost your marbles."
Harry laughed and pulled away, "Fine, go save lives, Officer."
"Idiot," Louis left the kitchen with a smile etched at his lips.
-
The hotel they were staying at was definitely out of Louis' pay grade, he was thankful it were the
elites who were accommodating the guests. Being Harry's date to the event certainly had its perks.
There was still time before the gathering began, Louis spent that time laying his and Harry's suits
out on the bed, and then contemplating if he should wear the one he brought.
Harry had gone to meet some acquaintances from neighbouring colonies, possibly trying to
dissuade anyone from objecting to Louis' presence. The man did so much for him, the least he
could do was accept Harry's gift, he had seen the look on the man's face when Louis had put it on
for trying. And it was a nice suit, definitely a better fit and cut than Louis' sorry excuse of a suit.
"If you dislike it so much, you don't have to wear it," Harry was behind him, making him jump on
the spot.
"God, you could have warned me! When did you even come back?"
"Right when you were thinking of burning the suit."
"I was thinking no such thing," he pushed Harry away as the man tried to hold him, "I need to go
over the case."
"That's all you've done for the past two days, you'll drive yourself crazy," Harry stopped him when
he tried to reach for the files again, "Stop and breathe, Louis."
"I don't need to breathe."
"Humour me then."
Louis did, taking in and letting out deep breaths, finding it actually helped to calm his nerves.
"Thanks."
"What are you so nervous about?"
"You know... all the elites, in one place, and me, a pariah."
"You have no reason to be nervous," Harry assured him, "You have me."
He nodded, leaning his head on the man's shoulder, "I don't care what they think of me. But I don't
want them to think less of you."
"And you think I care what they think about me?"
"You have a reputation to uphold, Harry, I can't sully it merely for a case."
"Louis," Harry sighed, a fond tilt to his head, "I would show you off to the whole world, proudly, if
I didn't fear you would throttle me for such an open display of my affection."
"Well, you should always fear me," he grinned, feeling light as he was reminded of the deep
affection Harry carried for him.
-
There had been objections to his presence, of course, but the people who shut down the objection
were far higher in numbers. Again, Louis wondered what Harry had over them for them to support
Louis. Or was it merely the man's aura that carried everyone to do his bidding.
He hated the taste of the wine and told Harry so, laughing when Harry proudly offered to rectify
the mistake once they left.
"You have to tell me where you source your wine from," he whispered between the introduction of
fledglings.
"I will send you a crate," Harry replied.
"That's not what I asked."
"Well, it's difficult to source. The ingredients make it a rare commodity."
"Fine," he huffed, "Keep your secrets."
Harry smiled, a secretive tilt to it, "I will."
Louis kept a mental note of each fledgling that raised even a hint of suspicion in his mind,
especially if they were from his town's colony. Later, he would ask Harry for their background, he
was certain the killer was amongst the ones that had caught his eye.
A young woman among them, turned barely over an year ago, in particular, raised his hackles. It
was the calm surrounding her, the genial smile she threw his way before walking to the front. She
made him shiver, and there were a rare few things that pulled such a reaction from him.
It was when the vampires mingled with each other after the introduction that the woman
approached them. Louis watched her from the corner of his eye, stood between Harry and some
other vampire whose name he couldn't bother to remember. The circle they had found themselves
in fawned over Harry and managed to reluctantly bear his presence.
Freya Rodriguez, the vampire who had eyes of an innocent woman who had lost everything, yet in
that loss had found a freedom she never knew existed. Louis was startled how easily he could read
her, as if she wanted him to see.
"Officer Tomlinson," Freya sidled along him, "Have you found the murderer?"
The other surrounding parties startled at the woman's question, it was surely impolite to bring up
such a topic. Louis excused himself from the circle, offering a hand to the young woman, shaking
his head as he met Harry's eyes.
"Miss Rodriguez, have we met before?" He asked, the night had fallen over the clear sky,
surrounding them as they broached the topic they were both familiar with. It would snow soon, he
noted absently.
He turned to face the woman, noticing her simple beauty, a buried pain under her skin, a happiness
now overcoming that pain.
"Not really, Officer," she smiled, turning to face him as well, "But I have heard of you."
"What have you heard?"
"Praises, mostly, from the elites. They are reluctant to admit the peace you have maintained by
detaining anyone who conducts a crime against humanity, but they do admit it."
Louis was speechless, truly. Never had he imagined he would hear those words. "Well, I'm glad."
"But I know you hate them."
"Them? Do you exclude yourself from them?"
"I like to," she shrugged, "I was turned because I was on the verge of death and my mother knew
someone who was a vampire. I was seventeen, not permitted to have my own choices. It was all
legal, mother consented in my place."
"But you didn't want that," he noted.
"I was involved in an accident," she whispered, "I had made my peace when my car had crashed. I
didn't want to live like this, forever miserable."
And it struck Louis then, not just one thing but the whole big picture, unfurling like a carpet. He
could laugh at how anti-climactic the revelation was.
"And then you found the person you thought to be your true mate," he spoke.
She nodded, "I had heard that it was freeing to be with your true mate. But he, he was a monster."
Louis frowned, "What?"
Freya laughed, a tear slipping past her cheek, "We were in love, or at least I was. He was merely
toying with a young girl delusional enough to fall for an older man. I told him about vampires,
about how I was his true mate, and that scared him. He asked me to leave him alone, to get our of
his life. And I did, I left him."
He gulped, nodding, "And then he asked to meet you."
"Yes," she looked at him, "He said he had made a mistake, that he wanted to be with me. I turned him when he asked me to and then invited him to the colony, but he attacked me once we far away
from any human, saying I was an abomination, that creatures like us shouldn't exist."
"It was self-defence," he noted, letting his arm fall between them, smiling lightly when Freya held
onto it.
"In a court I would say it was," she whispered, "But we both know that after a certain point it was
voluntary murder, I didn't want anyone deciding the fate of my life anymore."
"The forensic report would prove it was not self-defence, not after he couldn't fight anymore."
"Yes."
Silence hung between them, and the answer was simple, it didn't even bother him to come to a
decision.
"Maybe you never confessed to me, maybe you simply sought me out to tell me you appreciated
my work," he smiled at her shocked face, "Maybe I failed to solve this case."
"Wouldn't it burden you?" She asked, her mouth trembling as tears escaped her eyes.
"Even if it did, it's one burden I can live with."
He was shocked when he found arms wrapping around his middle.
"Thank you so much," Freya cried against his chest, "Thank you."
He patted her head, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, "We all should have a choice."
Louis let her gain her composure while he straightened his own suit jacket before offering his arm.
He lead Freya back to the gathering, smiling as they approached Harry.
"Mr. Styles," Freya smiled, unburdened, "Your boyfriend is really nice."
"Thank you, miss Rodriguez," Harry smiled back, "I saw miss Belle looking for you."
Freya excused herself, leaving them alone.
"You know her," Louis noted.
"I was her mentor for the initial months," Harry replied, "The vampire who had turned her had
refused to take responsibility."
"So, you stepped up."
"A young mind should be shaped properly."
Louis wondered how Harry had shaped her mind, definitely having some influence in her taking
hold of her own life.
"Then I must say you did a wonderful job, she is a delightful young woman."
Harry smiled, pleased at Louis' praise, "Thank you."
"Shall we leave?" He asked.
"So soon? Don't you want to ask a few questions?"

"I found some answers," he shrugged, "I will tell you once we are away from prying eyes."
They left after polite goodbyes, Freya's smile was grateful when Louis went to say his goodbyes to
her, promising to meet her soon.
"What's on your mind?" Harry asked once they were back in their hotel room, noticing Louis'
wandering thoughts.
"A lot," he answered, finding a chest pressing to his back, helping him out of his neck tie and
jacket.
"Care to share?"
"It was Freya," he whispered, as if afraid someone else would hear him, "Who murdered Mr.
Schmidt."
"Oh."
"You don't seem surprised."
"I am, but I'm also curious of what you will do next."
Louis told him what he and Freya had talked about, and then told him what he was going to say if
anyone questioned him about it, not that someone would. It had not been a suspicious encounter.
"You will let your strong streak break over an elite, after all," Harry said, pride evident in his tone
at Louis' decision.
"There are some exceptions that can't be helped, or avoided," he parroted Harry's words from days
ago.
Harry looked at him like he was a being of another world, "You are marvelous, my darling."
Louis blushed at the pet name. "The jury would have ruled against her," he said, "Vampire or nor,
she is just a young girl who fell victim to her circumstances and a lecherous man."
He turned around then, snaking his arms around Harry's shoulders, "There are a few more things
that I realised. I suppose I had known before, but the whole answer always managed to slip past my
grasp.
Harry hummed, holding him close, "Tell me."
"Are we true mates?" The expression on Harry's face was answer in itself, but Louis still wanted to
hear it.
"Yes," Harry admitted, his face shuttering after the shock passed, holding himself still.
"Have you been offering me wine with your blood in it?"
"...Yes."
"How long have you known?"
Harry pulled away from him, running a hand over his face and sitting at the foot of the bed, patting
the space beside him. Louis laced their fingers after sitting beside Harry, unable to bring himself to
get mad.
"I first saw you when you were still human," Harry said, "You had turned twenty-four that year. I
knew as soon as I saw you."
"You didn't approach me. Why?"
"You had a whole life, Louis. You had family, friends, a job you loved, people you cared for. I
couldn't bring myself to be selfish."
"But you were alone, too, you had been for a long time."
"Yes, but I couldn't take away your happiness."
Louis leaned his head on Harry's shoulder, "What makes you think I wouldn't have made a place
for you in my life?"
"I would have asked you to turn."
"Maybe I would have accepted."
"You would grown to hate me then, you would have to watch everyone you loved grow old and
die."
"I had to anyway," he sighed, "That choice was taken away from me."
"And it shouldn't have been," Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulders, "You should have lived
your life without ever knowing of this whole other world."
"You would have stayed alone," he whispered, "You wouldn't have been happy."
"Louis, my darling," Harry kissed the top of his head, "Your happiness is the only thing that
matters to me."
"We are talking in circles," Louis realised, laughing when Harry hummed. "Why didn't you
approach me after I was turned?"
"You can imagine how that would have gone down. Turned against your wishes and then some
vampire shows up saying you are his true mate."
Louis laughed fully then, picturing and admitting how hostile he would have been. "So, you waited
for me to somehow come across you."
"I only had to wait some eight-ninety years."
"Idiot," Louis shook his head fondly, "Can't believe how much I love you."
Harry grinned, tugging him so they were both lying on the bed, facing each other, "I love you,
too."
"The suits would crease," he spoke, totally useless as he pulled Harry into a kiss.
"We can take them off."
"I like where your mind is going."
Harry huffed out a laugh, quick in his movements to undress them both.
"Someone's eager," Louis teased, already straddling the man's legs.
"I finally get to taste you," Harry breathed against the juncture of his neck, licking up to his jaw.
Louis gasped, the image of them sinking their fangs into the other flashing into his mind, "All this
time, you have waited all this time."
"And I'm going to thoroughly enjoy the reward for my patience," Harry assured, a warning bite
where he intended to sink his teeth.
"Take me," Louis whispered, "I'm yours, take me."
Harry turned them over then, parting Louis' legs to claim his place in between. Slicked fingers
pressed against his entrance, patient in their movements as they opened him up. Over the haze of
pleasure, Louis was aware of the embarrassing moans spilling from his lips, moans that Harry
greedily swallowed by kissing him.
He clung to the man as he slowly sank in, his nails piercing into Harry's shoulders, leaving crescent
marks in their wake, the first of the many marks Louis intended to leave over their shared lifetime.
"You're beautiful," Harry whispered against his ear, kissing just below it.
"Drink from me," he pleaded, baring his neck in offering, "Taste me."
Harry need not be asked twice, sinking his fangs into the flesh, biting past the muscle until blood
flowed freely. Louis clenched around Harry's cock, head falling back, fingers clutching tightly to
Harry's hair, his whole face falling lax as endorphins flooded him, his orgasm hitting him like a
tidal wave, unstoppable as he came and came. Harry's name on his lips like a prayer.
"Perfect, my darling, you're perfect," Harry panted, lips coloured with his blood, looking
irresistible. Louis pulled him into a kiss, cherishing his own taste on Harry's tongue, moaning when
the man hit deep inside him. "Go ahead, take what is yours," Harry tilted his own neck, stilling
inside Louis to let him sink his teeth, groaning as Louis began to drink.
Louis was sure there was no better heaven, he could stay here forever, with the man he loved so
dearly, who loved him just as much if not more, with each other's blood in their mouths, knowing
that the universe wanted them together. Knowing that they wanted to be together.

~The End.~