Letters to Julian (A Cupid Inc Novella) (7 page)

“Woodland,” Julian bit out, hoping his answer would appease his date so they could move on to something less personal. “How about you?” With his cocky attitude and poor manners, Julian would guess some rare form of apex douchebag. Of course, he’d be right, but still, he’d like to know what he was dealing with before things went any further.

Smoothing his fingers down the zipper of his black leather jacket, Harris grinned in a predatory kind of way, revealing pointed canines. “Vampire,” he purred. “Don’t worry, though. I ate before I came.”

“That was nice of you. O positive or B negative?”

“Blonde,” Harris cooed, “and delicious.”

He laughed at his own joke, but Julian’s stomach turned in revulsion. A guy had to eat, and he would be the last to criticize, but vampires like Harris gave the entire species a bad name. For pity’s sake, the man still had a tint of red in the corner of his lips, likely left over from his pre-date meal—or pre-date date…whatever.

“I guess we should be going.”
Gods, please let this be over with soon.

“I made reservations
at Orsay. I’m sure you’ll like it.” Again, his tone implied he didn’t really care if Julian found the restaurant acceptable or not. “Shall we?” He tried to take Julian’s hand, but a frigid gust of wind sent him stumbling several steps sideways. “What the hell?”

Julian held his hands up and shrugged. “Hey, don’t look at me.”
No way was he going to go strolling through the city holding Harris’s hand, but he hadn’t been the one to cause the wind. Turning his laughter into a cough, Julian began walking, but stopped abruptly when something crunched beneath his loafers. “Oh,” he breathed.

Instead of lonely and discarded in the flower bed, the rose he’d given Harris lay across the walkway at his feet. He’d crushed the stem when he’d stepped on it, but the petals remained intact, frosted over and shining like jewels in the late afternoon sun. Bending, Julian retrieved the rose and held it to his lips, smiling when the frozen dr
oplets of water didn’t melt from the warmth of his breath.

“What about that?” Harris asked, jabbing his finger at the rose. “Did you do that?”

“Nope.” Breaking off the ruined part of the stem, Julian held the flower up the sun, mesmerized by the way it glittered and sparkled. “It’s beautiful, though, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” Harris huffed as he tried to tame his
dark, wavy locks. “Can we go now?”

“Sure.”

As they walked the eight blocks to Orsay, Julian listened to his companion drone on and on about all things Harris. He didn’t mind, though. As long as the guy continued to talk about himself, Julian wasn’t required to participate. Twice, Harris moved as though to hold his hand again, but each time ended badly for him. The first time he’d tried it, another gust of icy wind had literally lifted him off his feet and deposited him six feet away, much to Julian’s amusement.

He didn’t know if the vampire was stubborn or just plain stupid, but he didn’t seem to get the hint after the first two attempts. As they neared the restaurant, Harris reached out to take Julian’s hand again, only this time, he jerked it back and howled in pain when his fingers turned blue and icicle
s formed on the tips.

“Julian,” Harris snapped, “stop being childish.”

It probably didn’t help that he couldn’t stop laughing, but Julian did his best to look contrite. “I’m sorry, Harris. I’m really not doing this, though.”

By the time the hostess seated them at a table by the window, Harris’s fingers had thawed, which was kind of disappointing. On the other hand, Julian didn’t know how much longer he could take the complaints
and accusations before his head exploded. When the server appeared to take their drink order, Julian requested a Chocolate Sin Martini, ignoring Harris’s disapproving scowl. If the man could enjoy his own company sans alcohol, good for him. Julian didn’t quite have the stamina for it, though.

“Where are you from, Harris?”

“I grew up in Vermont. I was quarterback and team captain all through high school, and I have to say I was pretty popular. Won Homecoming King two years in a row. I probably would have won more than that, but I wasn’t eligible until junior year.”

For the next ten minutes, Julian was treated to the Greatest Moments
in the Life of Harris Hastings, complete with commentary, from high school through his second year of college. At that point, thankfully, the server reappeared to take their dinner order.

“Can I start you off with an appetizer?”

“No,” Harris answered at once. He ordered some steak something or another and a bowl of soup before turning to look at Julian expectantly.

“
Just another martini.” He chuckled quietly when a cold breeze ruffled the tips of his hair. “And the Atlantic salmon,” he added, still smiling.

As soon as the server left, Harris picked up where he’d left off in the epic tale of his
accomplishments, loudly interrupting anytime Julian tried to get a word in or ask a question. So, Julian just smiled and nodded a lot while saying things like, “That’s fascinating. Tell me more.”

As he waited for Harris to run out of stories about himself—or drop dead from lack of oxygen—he sat back in his chair and twirled his still-frozen rose, thinking back to the first time he’d met Ridley and had accidently changed the color of that tulip.

“Julian?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you listening?”

“No,” he answered honestly. “What did you say?”

“I was discussing your poor eating habits. Alcohol and excess sugar? I’d think you’d want to take better care of your body than that. Alcohol, especially beer, makes the blood bitter.”

When Ridley chastised him about his sweet tooth, Julian found it endearing. When Harris did it, he wanted to kick the jerk in the shin. “Well, good thing I’m not drinking beer,” he responded with a sugariness that made his teeth ache as he tipped his drink to his lips. “You won’t be getting anywhere near my blood, either, so I wouldn’t concern yourself too much.”

“I bet you’d like it.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t.”

“You’re not really my type anyway.” H
arris shrugged as his gaze travelled over Julian’s face and down his neck to his chest. “You’re too pretty and soft. I thought you were a woman when I first saw you, which is why it took me so long to introduce myself.”

Julian might have been offended if Harris hadn’t been so transparent in his attempt to wound him. Luckily, the waiter arrived with the vampire’s carrot soup—
eww
—saving Julian from the need to respond to the insult. “That looks…interesting.”

“It’s vitamin dense and very good for you.” Lifting the spoon to his lips, Harris blew on the soup before tasting it. “It doesn’t have sugar or chocolate or tons of trans fats in it, so you obviously wouldn’t like it.” His upper lip curled in a sneer as he raised the spoon lips again.

As he parted his lips, the entire spoon and its contents froze solid, and before Julian could stop him, Harris popped the cold blob into his mouth. The second the spoon touched his tongue, he tried to yank it out of his mouth, howling in pain when the icy metal stuck to his tongue and the inside of his bottom lip.

“Oh, uh, wow, okay.” Julian chuckled and snorted, but still, he felt compelled to help the vampire. “Try putting some water on it.” He pushed his own glass toward Harris.

He needn’t have tried, though. Before his fingers even left the water glass, the spoon had melted, along with its contents, spilling orange soup down the front of Harris’s black, button-down dress shirt. “Julian, I played along with your little jokes, but this is unacceptable.”

“Harris, I don’t know how many ways to say this, but I haven’t caused any of this. You saw what I can do, and it didn’t involve ice or wind.”

“Stop lying,” Harris hissed as he dabbed at his shirt with the cloth napkin. “I’m certainly not doing it, so that just leaves you.”

“Believe what you will, but I promise you, it’s not me.” For a moment, Julian thought about tearing his ticket in two and ending the date before anything else could go wrong. The only reason he didn’t take the express ride home was pure curiosity of what more could possibly happen to the egotistical vampire across from him. “Let’s just finish eating. I can tell you some about my culture, if you’d like.”

“How do you pronounce your last name?”

Not the nicest way to ask, but at least he’d finally shown some interest in anything besides himself. “
Hay-
eel
,” Julian answered, drawing out the syllables. “Most people butcher it, though, so I usually introduce myself as Julian Hale.”

“Well, technically, both pronunciations are incorrect. It’s actually pronounced AH-ell, with the
H
silent. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

Julian blinked several times, unsure if he’d heard correctly or had hallucinated Harris telling him how to correctly pronounce his
own
name. “Thank you for clearing that up. I can’t believe my entire family has been saying it wrong for centuries.”

“That’
s okay, don’t feel bad. I hear most elves aren’t very smart. I’m glad I could help you, though.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake.
“Tell me more about—”

“Ah!” Harris yelped and sprang up from the table when h
is soup bowl toppled over of its own accord and landed right in his lap.

Pressing his lips together and widening his eyes, Julian tried so hard not to laugh he felt sure he’d give himself an aneurism. He hadn’t felt the breeze that time, hadn’t noticed anything else on the table move, but something had certainly knocked over the dish. For a fleeting moment, Julian questioned if maybe he’d been the one causing the mischief after all. Thinking back on it, the cold winds and awful things happening to Harris always occurred right after he’d said or done something to set Julian’s teeth on edge.

A flash of blue caught his attention outside the window, and from the corner of his eye, Julian caught just a glimpse of a scaly head ducking out of site behind the trash bin.
Ridley
. Ignoring Harris as he ranted at the server, Julian stretched his arm out toward the window, carefully pressing his palm flat against the glass.

At once, tendrils of ice and frost spread around his fingers on the glass, forming a hand print much larger than his own. He’d suspected his dear, confused friend since finding the rose in the gardens, and now that he had confirmation, the incidents of the night seemed so much funnier for some reason.

“I should be mad at you,” he whispered as a gentle smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Julian, what the hell are you doing?”
Harris barked once the server had scurried off to find the manager.

Huffing in annoyance, Julian pulled his hand away from the
window and arched an eyebrow at his surly companion. “Maybe we should just cut our losses and call it a night.”

“I think that’s best.”

After lots of apologies from the very confused manager, he’d kindly agreed to comp their meal. Julian thanked him and slipped two twenty dollar bills to their server. After all, it wasn’t the kid’s fault Julian’s date was a prick. Harris insisted on walking him home, and Julian agreed, simply so he wouldn’t have to spend another ten minutes arguing with the guy.

So
, they walked back to Central Park in an uncomfortable silence. Harris didn’t try to hold his hand, and he kept at least two feet between them at all times. As they approached the entrance to the Conservatory Garden, Julian stopped to face his date. “I’m just a couple of blocks that way. I think I can make it on my own from here.”

“I’m in the opposite direction, so that’s fine.
We should do this again sometime.”

Julian blinked stupidly. He didn’t think he’d met anyone so completely delusional before. “Right, well, I’ll call you.” Trying to make his escape before Harris realized they hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, Julian gave a little wave and turned toward home.

He only made it two steps before a firm grip on his arm jerked him to a stop and spun him around, though. “No goodnight kiss?” Harris laughed, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes as he locked his arm around Julian’s waist and leaned closer. “You might like it.”

* * * *

When he’d gone to find Julian in the gardens, Ridley had only wanted to talk to him, maybe try to convince him to cancel his date. Unfortunately, he’d been delayed, and by the time he’d arrived, Julian had already met the vampire. So, he’d panicked. Shifting into a dragon the size of a Pekingese had made it easy for him to slip into the hedges and out of sight.

Once he’d realized Julian’s date was a vampire—not to mention a
raging douchenozzle—he’d only wanted to keep an eye on Julian to make sure nothing happened to him. At no point had he intended to interfere with the date, but of course, his jealousy had gotten the better of him. His embarrassingly small size had been ideal for following Julian around the city undetected, but now, he needed a form a bit more intimidating.

Crawling out from beneath the bushes, he shuddered and hissed as the change washed over him, transforming him back to his usual six-three height. As the vampire made another attempt to coerce Julian into a kiss, Ridley grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and jerked him sideways into the iron bars of the gate. Stark naked and uncaring, Ridley pinned him there with a hand around his throat, squeezing just hard enough to make Harris’s eyes water.