Chapter Text
In the many years since Barok had become a vampire, he’d managed to curb his cravings for human blood and restrict himself to drinking the blood of animals. Once he adjusted to it, it hadn’t been difficult to hold true to those restrictions. In fact, he rarely felt the desire to bite anyone at all.
At least until the Nipponese lawyer came to London.
Barok flew through the night as a bat until he found the attic room of 221B Baker Street. He had conducted discreet inquiries to learn where the man was staying after their second trial facing one another, but he held himself back from acting on that knowledge. After the fourth, during which the lawyer stood tall and declared his intention to protect his client no matter the consequences, Barok could no longer restrain himself.
The window of the attic room was open a crack, enough for him to gain access. He returned to his human form inside and approached the bed.
The Nipponese lawyer lay sound asleep.
Every time they faced each other in court, Barok ended the trial wanting to bite him. Now the urge was almost unbearable. His bare throat was exposed above the blankets, as if in invitation.
Barok stepped closer and imagined how the man’s warm skin would feel against his lips, how sweet his blood would taste. His pulse beckoned him closer, closer…
He pulled back just in time. Good heavens, he thought he was better than this. Years of never drinking a human’s blood, and he came so close to breaking that vow simply because of a Nipponese lawyer with honest eyes and a devotion to the truth that threatened to break down everything Barok believed? Moreover, it would bring danger. If the lawyer awoke with marks on his neck and a loss of blood, the old vampires rumors would be revived.
But he wanted him… oh, he wanted him… Barok stared at the sleeping man until at last he forced himself to leave.
#
He returned the following night.
Once again, the lawyer lay asleep with his throat so enticingly exposed. Barok urged himself to turn back, but he couldn’t look away. He moved closer to the bed. The Nipponese lawyer had haunted his thoughts all night.
It had been so long since he’d indulged. Years upon years. Animal blood did not have the same richness that human blood did. It sustained him, but it never quite satisfied him.
Just one bite. One little taste. He would do no lasting harm to him, so even if people did begin to whisper of vampires when the marks on his neck were discovered, they would eventually dismiss it as something as mundane as an animal attack. All he wanted was one taste to satisfy this inescapable craving.
One sweet taste to curb his hunger for the rest of eternity…
#
A sense of unease descended over Ryunosuke in his shallow, restless sleep. He’d suffered odd dreams the previous night and woke up with the sense that someone had been in the room with him, only to find it empty. Between Susato’s departure weighing on his mind and himself being barred from the courtroom, he’d dismissed it as stress causing him to have nightmares. Now that same discomfort jolted him out of another dream.
He opened his eyes.
Barok van Zieks loomed over his bed, mouth open to reveal a large pair of long, vicious fangs.
W… WHAT?!
Terror gripped Ryunosuke. He opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a tiny, barely audible squeak.
Van Zieks’s gaze met his.
Oh no, oh no, he was going to die, he was going to die, he was—
Eyes widening, the other man retreated from the bed as though he was afraid of Ryunosuke. He dashed to the window and vanished. Outside, a large bat flew away into the night.
Ryunosuke sat awake staring at the window for the rest of the night, but neither bat nor prosecutor ever returned.
#
By the time his sleepless night gave way to morning, he’d convinced himself it was a nightmare. All the same, he consulted all the books in 221B Baker Street until at last he found a description of vampires—undead monsters that rose from the grave to feed on the blood of their victims. Everything about it lined up with what he had seen.
Except, of course, for the fact that Lord van Zieks had fled when Ryunosuke woke up. A vampire would have been able to overpower and kill him before he managed to get anyone’s attention.
Ryunosuke closed the book and thought long and hard about the prosecutor feared throughout London as the Reaper of the Bailey and what he’d seen last night. Despite his reputation and intimidating nature, he’d grown to respect van Zieks for the dedication he showed to the truth. He no longer believed he murdered people, not truly. He couldn’t see him as a monster.
Which meant what happened last night was only a nightmare… right?
#
Of all the mistakes he had made, this might be the gravest yet.
Barok cursed himself as a fool as he once again made his way to 221B Baker Street. Last night had been terrible enough. Not only had he almost preyed upon an innocent victim, but he’d been caught in the act. It was a miracle no one had shown up at the van Zieks manor with a wooden stake to drive through his heart; he could only assume the man believed it to be a dream. By going back, he risked everything—both his soul and his life.
Yet he flew into the room anyway and gazed down at the sleeping lawyer. An odd pang of regret ran through him. Despite everything, he’d begun to feel an odd sort of fondness toward the man.
He hadn’t come here to bite him. Frightening him last night had weighed on his conscience ever since. When the lawyer awoke and looked up at him with such justified terror, it made Barok feel like a monster for the first time in years. He needed to see him again and assure himself that he was safe and well.
Now he would leave and banish all further thoughts of drinking this man’s blood. Barok stepped back.
The lawyer opened his eyes with a sharp gasp. His eyes widened, and he tugged the blankets up under his chin as if he could protect his throat that way.
Guilt lanced through Barok’s heart. He looked away. “Relax, my learned friend. I am not going to drink your blood. I merely came to apologize.” Since he had already been seen, perhaps he could at least ease the young man’s fears. “I should not have come to your room last night. I should not have even considered feeding upon you. I would not have truly harmed you—but that is no excuse. Pray forgive the discourtesy.”
The young lawyer blinked at him, clearly confused.
Perhaps Barok might yet be allowed to taste his blood, if he explained clearly that he would cause no lasting ill effects. Perhaps he would be granted even more than that. Despite the lies he told even to himself, he longed for the company of one who knew his true nature. This life of secrecy left him even further isolated than the rumors of the Reaper would. If he had someone to share the long nights with, it would all be more bearable. He could face eternity if he were not doomed to be forever alone. Even company lasting a mortal’s lifespan would be enough to ease the dread the future held for him.
But no, he did not dare let himself yearn for such things. Even mere companionship was a fanciful wish, let alone the rest. Dreaming of someone who would trust him enough to lie in his arms and surrender his blood willingly… that was a dream that would never come true. And a life like that with this man, of all people? No, it was impossible. The sooner he left, the easier it would be to stay away.
“If you have mercy within you,” he whispered, “do not tell a soul what I am. I will not repeat the mistakes of last night, and in light of your suspension, you need never see me again. Yet if you have no such mercy, I will accept your judgment.”
Satisfied that he had been able to undo at least some of the damage he caused, he left without another word.
#
They didn’t cross paths again until Albert’s case.
Panic surged as the lawyer entered his office. Barok had avoided Baker Street entirely since that final night they saw each other and assumed that distance between them was enough for the lawyer to hold his silence, but he hadn’t anticipated him gaining permission to practice law again and immediately taking on one of Barok’s cases.
Slowly, Barok forced himself to meet his gaze, certain he would see fear there.
The lawyer gasped and averted his eyes to break eye contact.
Barok stiffened. Next would come a formal accusation of what he was, or a raised cross to force him back, or perhaps the lawyer would simply flee the office to request help in dealing with the vampire.
“Oh, I, um…” Contrary to all his expectations, the lawyer stammered out the last thing he thought he’d hear. “I’m glad to see you’re well.”
Barok stared at him. Was he afraid to confront him? Was it due to the presence of the little girl, Iris; did the lawyer see Barok as someone who would harm a child? Something inside him twisted painfully at the thought.
Yet the conversation commenced, it became bafflingly clear he was concerned about Barok’s wellbeing and safety. They spoke of attacks against “the Reaper,” his past with Albert, and the upcoming trial. Not only did the topic of vampires never come up, but the lawyer relaxed enough to blurt out whatever foolish thing popped into his mind at any given moment.
He must have decided it was all a dream after all. Barok’s secret was safe.
Relief settled over him—along with a deep pang of loneliness.