Crimson Love: a Vampire Novel

First Kiss

Tarah couldn't sleep. The events of the previous night played on repeat in her mind – Antonio's cool touch, his mysterious comments about Prague, the way he'd pulled back just when she thought he might kiss her. She touched the garnet bracelet, which she hadn't taken off since he'd given it to her.

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:

*Central Park. Bethesda Fountain. 8 PM. - A*

Her heart skipped. She hadn't given him her number, but somehow that didn't surprise her. Antonio seemed to have ways of knowing things he shouldn't.

The day crawled by. She tried to read, to watch TV, to organize her closet – anything to make time move faster. Finally, at 7:30, she left her apartment, wearing a deep green wrap dress that made her eyes shine and brought out the auburn highlights in her dark hair.

The autumn evening was crisp, leaves crunching under her heels as she approached the fountain. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of purple and gold, and the first stars were beginning to appear.

"You look breathtaking."

She turned to find Antonio standing behind her, immaculate as always in black, though he'd foregone his usual suit for a more casual leather jacket and dark jeans. The outfit made him look younger, more approachable, though no less dangerous.

"How did you get my number?" she asked, though they both knew it wasn't the question she really wanted to ask.

He smiled enigmatically. "I have my ways." He offered his arm. "Walk with me?"

They strolled through the park as darkness fell, talking about everything and nothing. Antonio told her stories about Venice that seemed too vivid to be secondhand, while she shared her dreams of curating her own museum someday.

"You have a gift for bringing history to life," he said as they paused on a quiet path lit by antique lampposts. "You see the stories behind the artifacts."

"Is that why you're afraid to tell me your story?" She turned to face him. "Because you think I'll see too much?"

His expression tightened. "Tarah..."

"The painting, the bracelet, your knowledge of Prague – it's all connected, isn't it? And somehow, you're at the center of it all." She stepped closer, close enough to feel the usual coolness that emanated from him. "Why won't you trust me?"

"It's not about trust." His voice was strained. "It's about protecting you."

"From what?"

"From me." The words came out as barely a whisper.

She reached up, touching his face. His skin was cool under her fingers, but not unpleasantly so. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be." But he leaned into her touch, his control wavering.

"Why? Because you're different? Because you have secrets?" Her thumb traced his lower lip, and she felt him shudder. "I've known you were different from the moment we met. It doesn't change how I feel."

"And how do you feel?" His voice was rough with restraint.

Instead of answering, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

For a moment, he remained perfectly still, like kissing a statue. Then, with a sound like a breaking dam, he came alive. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him as he deepened the kiss. His lips were cool but softened quickly against her warmth.

Tarah's head spun. She'd been kissed before, but never like this – never with such carefully restrained passion, never with such desperate hunger. One of his hands tangled in her hair while the other pressed against her lower back, eliminating any space between them.

Antonio was drowning. Her warmth, her scent, the thundering of her heart – it all overwhelmed his senses. His fangs threatened to descend as desire and bloodlust warred within him. She tasted like sunlight and possibility, like everything he'd denied himself for centuries.

Her lips parted on a gasp, and he groaned, deepening the kiss further. She felt so fragile in his arms, so wonderfully human. One wrong move and he could break her. One moment of lost control and his fangs would emerge. But he couldn't stop kissing her, couldn't bear to end this perfect moment.

Tarah's hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer. The cool silk of it wrapped around her fingers as she pressed herself against him, trying to get closer still. His soft groan sent shivers down her spine.

Finally, knowing he was approaching the limits of his control, Antonio gentled the kiss. He pressed softer kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, before resting his forehead against hers. They were both breathing heavily, though he didn't actually need to breathe.

"That was..." Tarah began, then laughed softly. "I don't even have words."

"Dangerous," Antonio supplied, though he hadn't released her from his embrace. "Reckless."

"Perfect," she corrected, looking up at him. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed. The sight tested his control all over again.

"Tarah." He touched her face gently. "There are things about me... things you don't understand."

"Then help me understand." She turned her face to kiss his palm. "Whatever it is, whatever you're afraid of – let me in."

For a moment, he was tempted. The words sat on his tongue: *I'm a vampire. I've lived for centuries. Every moment I'm with you, I fight the urge to taste your blood. But I'm falling in love with you anyway.*

Instead, he kissed her again, softer this time but no less passionate. She melted against him, trusting him completely. The weight of that trust terrified him.

A twig snapped nearby, making them break apart. Antonio scanned the darkness with enhanced vision and caught a glimpse of Lucia melting into the shadows. His sister was still watching, still worried.

"It's getting late," he said reluctantly. "I should get you home."

"Will you come up this time?" Tarah's invitation was shy but clear.

Antonio closed his eyes briefly, fighting temptation. "Not tonight. There are... preparations I need to make first. Things I need to arrange."

She nodded, disappointed but understanding. "Tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow," he agreed, though he had no idea how he would maintain control in a more intimate setting. He would need to feed heavily beforehand, would need to set strict boundaries for himself.

They walked back to where his car was parked, hands intertwined. Her warmth seeped into his cool flesh, making him feel almost human again. Almost alive.

As he drove her home, Tarah touched her lips, still tingling from his kisses. "Your lips were cool," she said thoughtfully. "Like everything about you. Is that normal?"

"Poor circulation," he lied smoothly, though he hated deceiving her. "A medical condition."

She hummed noncommittally, and he could practically see her adding this detail to her mental collection of his peculiarities. Soon, she would have enough pieces to solve the puzzle. But for tonight, she just reached over and took his hand again, accepting him as he was.

After dropping her off (and stealing one more kiss that nearly shattered his control), Antonio drove to his usual hunting grounds. He would need multiple donors tonight to quiet the dual hunger she had awakened in him.

In her apartment, Tarah dreamed of cool lips and passionate embraces. In the shadows outside, Lucia watched her brother hunt with unprecedented intensity, taking more donors than usual but being careful not to harm any of them.

And in an ancient chamber beneath the city, the Council received word of Antonio's growing attachment to a human. Plans were set in motion. Tests would need to be arranged. After all, the last time a vampire had fallen in love with a human, it had ended in tragedy.

Or had it? The last pages of the Báthory journals might tell a different story – if only Antonio could find them.

For now, though, all that mattered was the memory of Tarah's kisses and the promise of tomorrow night. Everything else – the Council, his curse, the secrets of Prague – could wait.

But fate, as Antonio well knew, rarely waited for anyone.