Blood Match

Chapter 1: Winter Seduction

Leo had loved New York in the winter, not the New York of slushy, muddy puddles and soot-streaked snow which had lain too long, waiting for the eventual thaw of absent spring. No, the New York in the beginning of winter, dusted with pristine winter snow, pure and untouched. The city sparkled and called to him as he walked down the deserted twilight streets, oblivious to the cold and falling snow. Leo had been in New York for the past century and had seen the bustling metropolis grow from farmland to the center of the financial world. He had seen it all, had lived it all, had known it all. Leo was older than he looked.

That evening, Leo strolled through the deserted streets, bored and uninterested. The city was engulfed in a blizzard, but to his preternatural senses, it felt like any other ordinary day. The snow that would have blinded anyone else had no effect on him.

Leo was tired. Centuries had passed since his rebirth in 1159 in Athens, Greece. He had traveled the world and watched it change. There was a time that his kind hid in the shadows, manipulating kings, princes, and whole nations for simple pleasure. But things changed when humanity entered the Age of Reason—art, philosophy, and science began to leap forward, and within 300 years, the world had become a different place. It was only a matter of time before the existence of vampires was discovered in every corner of the world. Strigoi, Nosferatu, Vrykolakas, Upir, Moroi, and countless others throughout the world were forced into the light. And now, in the new millennium, after a half-century of bloodshed and war, the world took a breath and stepped back from the brink of total annihilation. Vampirekind and humankind met to forge a diplomatic peace, and from those negotiations, the Vampire Human Authority—known simply as the VHA—was formed. It became the governing body tasked with regulating all aspects of vampire-human interaction, a fragile peace kept in place by oversight, enforcement, and uneasy cooperation.

Leo shook his head; his thoughts had drifted again into the past. He pushed the last century from his mind and looked around. He had been walking for over an hour and now realized he had wandered into a part of downtown Manhattan. Gone was the upscale, bohemian, nouveau riche vibe of Greenwich Village. Here was the bleak, sterile expanse of the Financial District—glass, steel, and concrete rising like tombstones in the snow.

He found the change unsettling. It felt devoid of life and humanity, as if humankind had vanished, leaving behind only these hollow monuments to testify to their passing.

This was the corporate center of New York—towering office buildings, small restaurants, and stores that closed up shop when the banks and financial markets closed for the day. As Leo walked down the deserted streets, his eye caught a small block of light coming from a lone store window. He wondered who would still be working at this time in an area that closed at 4 p.m. most days. It was also a blizzard, and the city had shut down around midday.

He walked up the block, trudging through the snow until he stood outside the window, bathed in the light. It was a gallery. Pictures hung on the walls and suspended from the ceilings—portraits of people, in black and white, and vibrant color. He marveled at the lifelike quality and the depth of the photographer's talent. As he continued to take in the displayed work, he saw pictures of buildings, statues, and places he recognized from both the old and new worlds—places that he had walked, lived, and loved in. He felt transported, and for a minute, he was no longer tired. It was as if life had flowed back into him. He remembered those places, the people who he had laughed with, spent glittering evenings in conversation, and even passionate nights making love. In one picture, he thought he recognized an archway of a villa in Naples, where he had stood with a young artist, taking shelter from the evening rain a hundred years ago.

As he continued to stare, awestruck through the glass, he caught a vague hint of motion out of the corner of his eye. Snapping out of his reverie, he saw the most beautiful man. He seemed to be made out of pure sunlight. He walked, carrying a large portrait, oblivious to the fact that he was being watched. He placed it on a center easel and then stood back to appraise its position. Stepping forward, he slightly turned the easel just a fraction to the left so that the overhead light struck the photo just right. That small adjustment made the picture burst into technicolor life, and Leo gasped.

He must have touched the glass of the window because the man turned and saw him looking in. He smiled and made his way to the door and opened it.

"Hi, welcome. We are not open to the public yet, but if you would like to come in and take a look around, as well as get out of the weather..." Liam said, looking at the amount of snow that was covering Leo.

"Yes, I would like that, if it isn't too much trouble," Leo said, smiling.

"Not at all, come in, come in," Liam said, grabbing Leo's hand.

The contact was intimate, familiar, and evoked a sense of belonging that immediately grounded Leo in the moment.

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