Chapter One

Nathan Aldaine felt like an idiot. He was dressed in a button-up shirt and a tie for some job interview, and felt stupid standing in amongst the subway crowd. He was only seventeen, trying to get a summer job, and his mother had forced him to dress up. Not that he didn't look good. Nathan studied himself in the window of the ticket booth with interest. He certainly did cut a dashing figure; his shoulder length black hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and his pale skin actually had some color to it today.

Nathan shrugged. He just hoped no one from school saw him. He felt strangely vulnerable, what with his clothes so different from his usual attire. He dressed grungy at school so people would leave him alone; no one wanted to hang out with someone who usually looked as though he had been knocked into a puddle of mud on his way to school.

From far down the subway tunnel, the sounds of the approaching train began to echo. Nathan pushed his way to the front of the crowd, hoping to get on the subway in time to find a seat before people flooded on. Someone knocked into him suddenly, and Nathan felt himself pitched forward, right into the path of the approaching train. He froze, eyes wide, unable to move as the train sped towards him.

Two men threw themselves from the platform into the path of the train, grabbing Nathan and yanking him out of the way. The train stopped in between the three men and the platform, and Nathan collapsed against the man to his right, blacking out. He managed to get only a brief glimpse of his saviors before he passed out, and was unable to discern much from the one glimpse he managed to get.

When Nathan came to, he was surrounded by people, including reporters and journalists, along with all of their cameramen. The reporters were talking to a handsome man with vibrant, fire engine red hair and emerald green eyes, and the man was answering their questions with much gusto and many hand motions.

The subway seemed to have been closed off, as people were attempting to get through barriers but could not due to the amount of police. Nathan tried to sit up, but another man with long blonde hair pressed him back down. "Don't move. You've been through quite the ordeal."

Nathan looked around. "What happened?"

"You were pushed in front of the subway train. Me and that guy over there managed to save you, but… They caught the guy who did it. You know the guy who's been going around killing young boys?"

When Nathan nodded, the blonde continued. "You were his next victim. He had about a hundred different pictures of you with him. Apparently you were being stalked."

Nathan looked revolted, "Gross! Do they know why?"

The man shrugged. "They're talking to him right now."

The redheaded man suddenly came over and knelt down beside them both. He whispered something in the blonde's ear, and the man suddenly stood. "Do you need a ride home, Nathan?"

Nathan managed to stand up. "I… I could get a taxi."

The redhead grinned. "My motorcycle's right outside! We can take that!"

The blonde glared at the other man, who blushed. "Or we could take Yves' car. Oh… I'm Art, by the way."

Nathan nodded. "Nice to meet you."

The man named Yves nodded briskly. "Come on."

The trio made their way through the sea of people, but was only able to make it through the police because Yves flashed some sort of badge in their direction, which caused the police to pull away immediately. They made it through the blockade without much difficulty, and Art whistled. "Impressive. A detective, are we?"

Yves nodded. He seemed to be the more serious of the two, his blue eyes holding a painful sorrow of some type. He glanced at Art now, his eyes still sad. "What do you do?"

"I teach."

Yves raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He turned to Nathan and spoke softly. "Have you had anything to eat yet?"

Nathan thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "I was going to get lunch after my interview. But that obviously isn't going to happen now."

Art spoke suddenly. "We'll take you out for lunch."

Nathan looked at him. "That's… That's all right. I should probably be getting home. My mom is probably worried about me."

Art smiled. "A half an hour won't kill her. Besides, we have to talk."

Nathan, who was a little weirded out by the men but did not want to seem ungrateful, sighed. "Fine… I'll go to lunch with you…"

Art grinned. "That's what I thought." He smiled at Yves. "All right, Blondie, you're driving."

Yves shrugged and made his way over to a black Mercedes-Benz, unlocking it deftly. Art whistled. "Nice car. You can afford this on a detective's salary?"

Yves spoke coolly, his voice softy. "I have some money stashed away. Are you two getting in or not?"

Art climbed in the passenger side of the car, while Nathan slid into the back. He stared at the two men sitting in the front seats and sighed. "Where are we going?"

Yves stayed silent, but Art turned and smiled at him. "You'll see."

Yves glanced at the redhead and spoke. "Put a seatbelt on."

Art rolled his eyes. "But we both know I can't…"

"Put the seatbelt on!"

Art sighed and buckled the seatbelt reluctantly. Yves started the car and began to drive slowly. Finally, Art seemed to snap. "You're moving too slowly, Yves! Look! Everyone's passing you!"

Yves spoke calmly. "I'm going forty-five miles an hour. That's the speed limit. Everyone else is breaking the law."

"Oh my god! You're not going forty five miles an hour, you're going like twenty miles an hour! The cops are going to pull you over if you don't speed up!"

Yves sighed and sped up a little. Art smiled. "Much better." He twisted around in his seat and grinned at Nathan. "So, kiddo, which school do you go to?"

"Jefferson."

"Grade?"

"I'm going to be a senior in a few days."

Art nodded thoughtfully. "You know… I teach English IV there. The AP classes. You'll be taking that when school starts, won't you?"

Nathan nodded, and Art laughed. "I'll request for you to be in my class. But I'm Mr. Monticello at school."

Nathan's face lit up in recognition. "Oh, yeah! I've heard of you! Apparently you're a hard ass."

Art looked hurt. "Really? I didn't think I was."

Nathan nodded. "Yeah. All the kids say that you're cool, but when it comes to the work, you're a real jerk."

Art frowned. "Hmm… I let them do whatever they want, but I make them do the work. So I'm a bad teacher?"

Nathan hurried to make an excuse. "No, of course not! I'll be glad to get you!"

Art smiled. "Okay. I'm the best teacher that the school has, so you should be glad! I've been teaching for quite some time, so I've got it down."

Nathan spoke on impulse. "How old are you?"

Art raised an eyebrow, and Nathan blushed. "Um… Because you only look about twenty-five. You can't have been teaching very long."

Art smiled. "I'm thirty three. But it's always nice to know that you look younger. I've been teaching for eleven years. I've been around since your school opened up, Nathan."

Yves made a small noise of distaste. Art laughed. "Don't be so jealous, Yves. It's not my fault you're only twenty eight."

Yves sighed. "We're here."

He had pulled into the parking lot of a very expensive looking restaurant. The three men climbed out of the car, and Yves sighed. "You couldn't dress nicely for once, Art?"

Art, who was dressed in a tight black shirt and a pair of baggy cargo pants, scratched the back of his head. "I like these clothes. What about you? You're dressed as if you're from the 1700's."

Yves was, indeed, dressed as though he had just time traveled from the French Revolution. He was wearing a pair of thin black slacks and a white, long sleeved shirt with poufy sleeves, as well as a gold corset-vest looking thing over top. His shoes looked like they belonged in a revolutionary piece of artwork. Yves glared at Art and turned to Nathan. "See, Art? Even a kid dresses better than you."

He reached out and smoothed Nathan's shirt, as well as readjusted his tie. He also pulled Nathan's hair back into a tighter ponytail, the ghost of a smile fleeting across his face. "God, you make me wish I had kids."

Nathan looked away, hoping that Yves would never see him in the type of clothes he wore at school. Yves shrugged. "You'll have to do for now, Art. Come on."

The trio walked inside and waited to be seated. The hostess, a pretty woman with brown hair and large brown eyes, led them to a table and handed them their menus after taking an especially long look at Art, who was, in turn, watching Yves. Nathan began to flip through the menu idly and nearly had a heart attack when he saw the prices. "Fifty dollars for a steak?! What?"

Yves smiled. "Order whatever you like. My treat."

Nathan looked at the blonde as if he were insane. "Are you crazy?! With prices like these… I could buy a friggin' video game with this kind of money!"

Yves shrugged. "Seriously, order anything. I can afford it. Besides, you're scrawny. You need to eat."

Nathan began to glance through the menu. He had only decided on a drink when a waiter came over to them. He smiled and spoke with a British accent. " 'Ave you decided on anythin' yet?"

Yves nodded. "Just an appetizer. We'll have the… escargot in garlic sauce, with a side of French bread and garden salads for each of us."

Art made a face as the waiter wrote down the order. Yves spoke again. "And can you bring us a bottle of Chardonnay? I'm not sure what these two want…"

Art smiled falsely. "Chardonnay is fine, Yves."

Nathan nodded. "It's cool."

Yves smiled at the waiter. "That's it for now. Thank you."The waiter grinned. "No problem. It'll be just a few seconds, mate."

He walked off, and Art moaned. "Escargot? Every time, Yves… Every friggin' time…"

Yves nodded. "I don't see why you don't like it. I love escargot."

"That's because you're French! God…"

Yves shrugged and looked at Nathan. "You don't mind, do you?"

Nathan shook his head. "I had snail sushi before. It's not too different, is it?"

Yves smiled, flaunting his sharp canines. "Of course not."

Art mumbled something, and Yves looked at him. "What?"

Art sighed. "Don't you think it's about time we told him why we saved him. That's the only reason we brought him here, right?"

Yves bit his lip. "I don't know…"

Art shrugged. "Well, then, I'll tell him." He looked at Nathan, took a deep breath, and spoke softly, his tone hushed. "Yves and I are vampires."

Nathan raised an eyebrow incredulously. "What?"

"We're vampires. You know, blood sucking, night dwelling creatures?"

Nathan looked around. "But it's not night."

Art smiled, and Nathan noticed that his canines were unusually sharp as well. "Well, Yves and I are old enough that the sun doesn't really hurt us anymore."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Are you stoned?"

Art looked offended. "What? No! Of course not!"

Nathan looked at Yves, who nodded, and then back at Art, who was looking expectant. "Seriously?"

Art nodded. "Seriously."

Nathan stood up. "Well, thanks for saving me and everything, but I think I should leave now."

Yves and Art glanced at each other and then back at Nathan. "Where are you going?"

"You two are obviously high. That explains why you jumped in front of a speeding subway train to save a guy you didn't even know. Thanks, but don't call me anytime soon."

He rushed out of the restaurant, flagged down a taxi, and got into it without looking back. Yves looked at Art. "Smooth, Artemedoris."

Art glared at the man irritably. "Shut up and eat your snails, Frenchie."