Date: Thu, 13 May 2010 12:03:54 +0200
From: Luca Warberg <lucawarberg@gmail.com>
Subject: Tainted Blood 3

Standard disclaimers apply. All rights reserved by the author.

Hey guys, heres the next section. Thanks so much for the emails and stuff.
and please, if there are any of you guys reading this not emailing, PLEASE
do! Its really encouraging to know that my work is being read, and
enjoyed/not enjoyed! lol.
anyway, here you guys go!


Chapter 3

Nico woke up on Monday morning drenched in sweat, his throat rasping
viciously as he sucked in some air. Sitting up in bed, he swept his hand
through his coal black hair, not sure what to make of the dream he had.

He had been at the family's estate back in Italy. It was one of the most
beautiful places in the world, nestled on a hill with a large lake spread
out behind it. It was the middle of summer and the Mediterranean climate
meant that the sun was blazing, there were beetles chirping, the lake looked
like a plate of glass as it shimmered in the sun. Nico and Dante had come
running from the house, down the hill, not a care in the world. It fond
memory Nico kept in the back of his mind, a time when him and Nico had been
around 7 or 8 years old: inseparable. He had felt the dark presence build
around him, and eventually, despite him not wanting to go near it, he felt
himself being sucked closer. He had tried to run away, to move backwards,
but the more he struggled, the quicker he seemed to move towards the
presence. The presence was lurking at the edge of the lake, almost invisible
but for the feeling of apprehension it inspired in Nico. He knew that
presence, had been taught to recognise it. Despite himself, Nico glanced
over at Dante, but his brother was not having the same struggle he was at
all. He was happily skipping towards the lake, intentionally heading towards
the foreboding aura waiting at the shore. As he was drawn closer, Nico had
felt his skin start tingling. The closer he got, the worse it started
getting until he was so close it literally felt that his skin was crawling
with fire. He couldn't breathe, black shadows had enveloped his vision and
he felt a sick nausea spreading into his very soul. Then, just as he was
about to be swallowed whole, he had woken up.

Trying to shake the unease he felt at the dream, Nico got up. He glanced at
the electronic watch standing on the bed side table. It was 6.30am. He
supposed that it was just as well that he was up. His first class for the
semester was at 8am: French. He looked forward to it and had read briefly
through the course outline the day before. They were covering some pretty
interesting works, including plenty of Jean Paul Sartre's works on
existentialism. The idea appealed to him.

Stepping into the bathroom, Nico went through his usual morning routine of
turning the hot water on in the shower, shaving while he waited for the
water to start steaming. He quickly lathered up with soap before taking a
few minutes to simply enjoy the fiercely hot liquid searing his skin. God
this had to be the most amazing sensation in the world. After a full fifteen
minutes of luxuriating in the feeling of bliss he was experiencing, he shut
the water off and roughly towelled himself dry. He went back to his
cupboard, pulling on a pair of Calvin Klein briefs with reels of cartoons on
them. He slipped into a pair of loose, faded grey jeans and pulled a tight
white Gucci shirt over his head. He quickly finished by snaking a plain
black belt through his jeans, pulling it tight enough to allow the jeans to
rest comfortably on his hips. Before looking into the mirror, he stepped
into his favourite pair of flip flops. Gazing at the apparition in front of
him, he admit to admit, he was looking a lot better than he had in the last
few days. It was like feeding had filled his body with a new will to live,
and it showed. His muscles were showing extra definition today, his pecs and
abs clearly visible through the thin white materiall of the shirt.
Similarly, his biceps, although not bulging obscenely with muscle, were
defined beyond belief. His hair was still a bit messy from towelling it dry,
but Nico figured there was still enough wax left in it to not look to bad.
He ran his fingers over his hair, making the messy look a bit more natural.

Before he left the room, Nico glanced outside into the street. The day was
still greyish, the sun obviously still struggling to pull clear of the
horizon. But there was definitely daylight. The greyish pallor being cast
over everything probably meant it was going to be another day of depressing
rain and icy winds. Great, thought Nico to himself. He debated pulling a
tight fitting hoodie over to try and fit in with the other students who
would be bundled up against the cold, but decided against it. He didn't feel
the cold and he HATED wearing layers of clothes. Today he was going to just
enjoy himself and worry about the suspicious glances people gave him
tomorrow.

Swinging the backpack he used to keep his books in for class, he sauntered
into the kitchen, and as if on cue, the chef walked in carrying his
breakfast. As usual, it seemed a bit ostentatious, but Nico allowed himself
to smile at the man regardless. He was simply doing his job. The food was
set down in front of him, and Nico started picking at it, concentrating more
on the fruit and yoghurt than the omelettes and toast. He wasn't really one
for big breakfasts, but if he did have to have one, he preferred eating
healthily. It made him feel healthy afterwards. He gulped down the orange
juice before glancing at his watch again. It was 7am, so he walked
downstairs and easily slid into the car which was already waiting on the
curb for him, the back door open and valet stomping his feet against the
cold. Nico looked up and greeted the driver before sliding further into the
car. The driver promptly closed the door, jumped behind the wheel and
started driving towards NYU. It took a full forty five minutes, even with
Luciano's skilled driving weaving in and out of the traffic like the true
Italian motorist he was. That meant that when Nico shouted his thanks and
jumped out the car, he had just under fifteen minutes to get to class. He
strode off purposefully in the right direction.

He finally got to the right building and strode in, weaving through the
streams of students all in a rush to get to class on time. He knew the
drill, the huge crowd in the hallways would have dissipated quite
substantially by the next month or two as people started partying harder
than they studied. It was always so full on the first couple of weeks of
class. Looking ahead to the end of the corridor, Nico noticed the door of
the class he was attending had already been shut. That probably meant the
lecturer had already started. He cursed silently under his breath and opened
the doors anyway. He strode into the class, a bit irritated that it was one
of the classrooms where the entrance was at the bottom of the auditorium and
he had to stride past the lecturer to get to the seats. He felt all eyes
focusing on him as he made his way to the first row of chairs, quickly
sliding in behind the desk. He felt the everyone's eyes refocusing on the
lecturer – a tall chubby brunette woman with glasses and curly hair who
hadn't missed a beat as Nico had wandered late into her class. Clearly she
was used to a few stragglers. Pulling his notebook out of his backpack, Nico
settled in to listen to the lecturer and make notes.

"Today will be the only day I will be speaking in English to this class,
because to have been admitted into this programme, it is assumed that you
have a firm grasp of the French language. As you leave the room at the end
of this lecture, would you please be so kind as to grab a course framework
from my desk. It has the course plan in it so that you can see what work
will be covered in each lecture. I expect everyone to have read ahead as I
will not be discussing or reviewing the actual work in the class. I will
assume that everyone has covered the work and instead, I intend to use these
lectures to deepen your understanding of the literature we are dealing with
this semester. I will not keep a register of class attendance, but be
forewarned that I go through the class list in front of me and pick names at
random to answer my questions. Being present gets you a tick, and answering
the question correctly will get you a mark out of three, depending on how
insightful or accurate your answer is. I will add these marks up and they
will make up 30% of your year mark. So, as I said, be absent at your own
peril."

The rest of the lecture covered other mundane administrative matters, and
the lecturer dismissed them after only half an hour. The lecture had meant
to take place for a full hour, which meant that Nico had another hour and a
half before he had to attend German. Being in the front of the class, he
quickly packed up and grabbed the wad of notes which comprised the course
framework from the lecturer's desk, leaving the room before the masses could
cause a bottleneck. He hated ques.

He walked out the building and sat on the stairs, far to the side of the
main entrance so he wouldn't be bothered when the rest of the class spilled
out into the open. Flipping through his bag, Nico searched for the letter he
had received from Italy yesterday, re-reading it. It was completely unlike
their father to make them come home. Usually if things were urgent enough to
require an audience with his two sons, he came to see them. If things
weren't urgent enough, they simply didn't see him. He was deep in thought
when he suddenly felt a bump against his back as someone walked into him,
and suddenly he found himself in a shower of books, a couple of which landed
straight on his lap. He looked up in irritation to see what had happened. It
was for that exact reason that he had settled down far away from the
entrance, yet someone still managed to collide with him. What the hell. It
took him a few seconds to register the offender as she was still being
jostled by the crowd unable to even consider picking up her books: it was
the girl from Friday, the one with the brother he had seen at the bar.

Mildly irritated with her for invading on him yet again, he started picking
up her books for her. He had gathered all six of them before she managed to
break free from the crowd and start looking for them. She noticed Nico
straightening up with her books nestled in one of his arms while using the
other arm to sling his own bag over his other shoulder and started blushing
furiously. She just stood there, not quite knowing what to do, when he
strode up to her with a smile pasted on his face.

"I think you dropped these?"

"Oh, um, ya. Thanks very much."

Her thoughts still seemed a bit scattered as she took the books from his
arm, but she quickly pulled herself together. She stood up, looking him
square in the face.

"Aren't you cold? It's basically freezing out here and here you are parading
around in a t-shirt and slops."

Her forwardness surprised him a little. People weren't usually so assertive
with him. They were usually heavily intimidated by his looks, not to mention
the aura of detachment he cultivated around himself.

"No, not really. I'm used to it. And what the hell are slops?"

"Oh, sorry, that's what we call them back home. Thongs? Flip flops?"

Nico found himself chuckling as she searched for the right word to use. He
supposed that it could be frustrating having to get used to the whole
American slang. Luckily for him, it was American English they taught at
school in Europe so he hadn't had much problem fitting in easily.

"Flip flops is the right word. So, where exactly is home then"

"Oh, South Africa."

"Bit far away from here just to study, isn't it? So what else brings you to
America?

She blushed slightly at that.

"It's not that far. I just wanted to experience a bit of the American
lifestyle. You always see it in movies, figured I might as well experience
if for myself. Besides, you have a bit of an accent yourself. What is that?
Spanish? Italian?"

"Haha. Yeah, I'm Italian. Well spotted."

They stood on the steps exchanging a few more pleasantries before she tried
to angle her arm, still full of books, so she could see what time it was.
Nico quickly took the books from her.

"Here, let me help."

"Oh thanks. Ah, shit. I was suppose to meet my brother outside Cafe Benito
in like five minutes. I have absolutely no idea where the hell that is."

Nico's heart jumped s she mentioned her brother, but before he could stop
himself, he started talking again.

"Oh, it's just around the corner there. Take your first left, then walk
about fifty yards, then hook a left. Carry on walking another fifty yards or
so and take the right. It should be about ten yards down the street from
there."

"Yards? Dude, we work in metres," she replied with a completely confused
look rooting itself firmly in her face.

Nico found himself chuckling again. Despite himself, he was warming up to
the girl. She looked so confused and he didn't want to look like too much of
a jerk to her, so he offered to take her. Besides, he told himself, remember
how she was freaking out abound finding her way home at the bar. He saw a
relieved smile flicker across her face.

"Thanks," she said. "I'm what we call rigtingsbevok in my language. I'd lose
myself on a soccer field without much trouble."

His mind took a second to translate the word for him: it was similar to
German. It literally meant "directionally fucked". He chuckled at that. He
hadn't heard her swear once in English, but clearly she didn't have a
problem doing it in her own language.

"I'm Bianca, by the way."

"Nico. Pleased to meet you."

They headed towards the bar, chatting away as they went. Nico felt himself
become increasingly comfortable around her. Despite her `directionally
fuckedness' she was quite a happy go lucky girl, laid back without being
frustratingly so. Besides which, she had quite the brain on her, which was
clear as they started discussing the work they would have to do for French
that semester. She seemed really eager to delve into it, her eyes sparkling
as she started reciting passages from Sartre. Clearly the girl was
infatuated by the language.

"So, what exactly are you studying anyway?"

"Oh, I'm hoping to major in Political Science. But I had to pick a language
during first year, so I decided on French because I loved it at school. And
you, what direction are you hoping to go?"

Before Nico could answer, he saw a pair of hands snake over Bianca's
shoulder and close her eyes from behind. A smile lit up on the girl's face.

"Christian? I thought you'd be at the Cafe by now."

Nico turned around to see the boy from the bar smiling at the back of his
sister's head, before brought his hands down and turned his sister around to
give her a hug. The boy was wearing a pair of baggy faded blue jeans, a
black hoodie, and over the hoodie, he was wearing a perfectly tailored grey
double-breasted jacket. The look was very European, Nico thought to himself.
Good for him.

"Oh, Christian, this is Nico, by the way. He kind of brought me here because
I was scared of getting lost."

The boy looked over at Nico, a wide smile over his face, making his eyes
sparkle brightly. As soon as Nico brought his eyes up to meet the boy's
gaze, he felt the tingling sensation start in his groin again. What the
hell, he had just fed two days ago. It was impossible for it to be happening
so soon again. Before he could help himself, he stretched his hand out to
meet the boy's hand.

"Please, call me Raf."

As soon as he said it, Nico felt shock spread through his body. He didn't
know why he had done that. He had never let anyone except Dante call him
Raf, and here he was, telling a virtual stranger to call him that. The boy
must have seen the inner turmoil going on in Nico's mind because as he
withdrew his hand from shaking Nico's, he frowned slightly.

"Well, anyway, you guys keen for some coffee? I'm freezing my balls off.
That being said, aren't you getting cold, Raf?," Christian enquired
cheerfully.

"Actually, not really," Nico replied, "But I should probably head off back
to campus."

"What for?" Bianca enquired. "It's not like you could possibly have work to
do already. It's the first day of term. Come on, dude, just come for a
coffee. We don't bite, promise!"

The bantering carried on for several more moments, before Nico allowed
himself to be convinced. He didn't know why, but he felt really uneasy
around Christian. Finally, he allowed Bianca to drag him off to the cafe,
her brother following the two of them chuckling at the sight. Once they were
inside, they found a small table near an open fireplace inside. Bianca and
Christian shrugged off their heavy coats before sitting down at the table.
Nico found himself staring at Christian, eyeing his clearly defined torso,
clearly visible even through the hoodie. His gaze was slowly drawn upwards,
to the boys neck, covered by golden stubble, almost invisible against his
golden skin. He had a sharp, strong jaw-line, clear, unblemished golden skin
also covered by that same hint of golden stubble as his neck. And his lips,
bright pink, looked so soft that they were basically begging to be kissed.
Nico finally drew his gaze to the boy's eyes, finding Christian looking at
him quizzically. That snapped Nico out of his reverie.

"Sorry man, I just zoned out there completely. Didn't really get much sleep
last night.

"No worries, dude. So, I take it your in French with my sis? What are you
studying, actually?

"Oh, I'm actually doing like a language and literature course. Emphasis on
the literature."

Christian looked surprised. "Oh, me too actually. Emphasis on the language,
though."

This time it was Nico's turn to look surprised. They chatted on for several
minutes about classes and found that they were sharing only one despite
having roughly the same course. They had only Spanish together. There was a
short lull in the conversation as the waiter brought them three cups of
steaming hot filter coffee. Then Bianca decided to speak up.

"So, Chris, did you get hold of Gabrielle this morning?"

"No, she must have gone to bed before I could reach her."

"Oh, Gabby is Chris's fiancée back home, by the way," Bianca said, directing
the comment at Nico. He felt a slight current of electricity shoot from his
groin at the notion that the boy was engaged.

"Aren't you a bit young to be engaged? How old are you now, 21?"

"Actually, I'm only 20. But Gabby's two years older than me. She finishes at
the end of this year, in December, I mean. Then she's coming over to the
states and hopefully by June next year we can get married."

"Wow, you guys don't waste much time on that side of the world hey. Is it
common to get married so young there?"

"No man, but if you love a girl, and you know that she's the one, why wait?
That's all there is to it."

Nico smiled bemusedly at the idea. He found it mildly entertaining that
Christian was so protective over his fiancée. But, he supposed, to each
their own.

The conversation carried on, with Nico learning a lot about the two. It
turned out that Bianca and Christian were from Cape Town. They had grown up
in a pretty well off home, had seen a lot of Europe and had decided to come
study here to get exposed to a bit of new culture. Bianca had spent a year
in England, working during a gap year as she decided what to do with her
life. Christian had graduated a year late from school because of a severe
case of dyslexia he had struggled with as a child. Nico also found out that
Gabby was doing her final year in actuarial science, and according to both
Chris and Bianca, she was an exceptionally beautiful girl. She and Christian
had been dating for almost two years now. All this time, Nico hardly said a
word, simply listening, observing.

It was almost an hour later before Nico realised he had to get going if he
was going to make his next class. Pushing back his cup, the chair scraped
slightly against the floor as he stood up. He quickly apologised to the two
and bade them farewell. He left the room without glancing back. Once he was
outside in the cold again, Nico felt himself returning to normal, his
natural defences creeping back up. What the hell had he been thinking,
easing up in front of those two like that? He should never have gone into
the bar, never mind have a full conversation with them. And as if that
wasn't bad enough, he was almost sure that Christian  must know something
was up. He had kept staring at the boy. He just couldn't help it though. The
boy had mesmerised him. It wasn't that he was upset about being attracted to
a boy. Nico had long since stopped caring about that. It was simply yet
another aspect of who he was. It was the fact that the boy interested him so
much. The way his blond hair sat just so, not short enough to be spiked up
with gel, not long enough to be completely messy. It made him sort of look
like a surfer. The way he could sense the boy's agile strength as he raised
and lowered the coffee to and from his mouth. The way his lips closed and he
licked them slightly, gently every time he took a sip. But worst of all, or
maybe best of all, the way the boy smelt. God he was hot. It was a soft,
gentle smell laced with just the smallest hint of raw masculinity and
sexuality. It smelt a little musky, but better, fresher, more exciting.

Get a grip, Nico, he told himself. He stood simply breathing deeply until
his minds settled along a more familiar pattern. He couldn't get too close
to those two. There was something about them, about Christian especially,
that drew him unnaturally. He didn't know what it was, but he knew it was
going to bring out the worst in him. With the impoverished diet he was
living on, he didn't know how long he would be able to resist the boy before
taking him forcefully, and then... then landing up like Dante. Like he,
Nico, had been a few years back. It was something he didn't want.

He slowly made his way back to NYU, revelling in the cold biting at his
skin. It was stabilising him, helping him get Christian and Bianca out of
his mind. Fifteen minutes later, he walked through the door of his German
class.  He was still early and the class was largely empty, so he took a
seat in one of the back corners of the room. He didn't feel like striking up
a conversation with whoever landed up sitting next to him, and if there was
one thing he hated about freshmen, it was how insanely eager they were to
make friends. The class filled up slowly, the quiet Nico was enjoying giving
way to a steadily rising chatter as excited freshmen filled the room.
Finally, the lecturer entered the hall, clapping his hands once he had put
his briefcase down on his desk. He was a short, stout little man, with an
enormous moustache and beard covering most of his face. His hair was a sort
of salt and pepper colour, but definitely more white than black.

The lecture went pretty much the same way as the French lecture had gone
earlier that day, with basic administrative information being dealt with.
Except, when the man had finished explaining the outline of what he intended
to do for the semester, he simply jumped right into explaining the first
chapter of the book *Parfum*. He gave a brief outline of the chapter for
those who had not yet managed to read it, and then went on to explain the
cultural and historical background for the novel. It was all stuff Nico
knew, but still, it was good that he was in the lecture. It was good that he
was keeping his mind occupied with constructive things. It was the only way
he would be able to keep sane.

Nico only had one more lecture for the day, immediately after German. It was
English literature, but like the French professor had done, they were
dismissed early after being bombarded with information about the course.
Done for the day, Nico wondered if Luciano was going to be waiting for him
at the usual spot. Half hoping the man had forgotten, Nico walked along the
University campus, not bothering to admire the tall, ornate buildings around
him. Sure enough, Luciano was standing outside the car, having a cigarette.
He was blowing enormous clouds of smoke into the cold air. It looked pretty
relaxing, Nico had to admit. As soon as the valet saw him, he threw the
cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. He opened the door to the black
Maybach, waiting for Nico to slide in.

"Where to, my Lord?"

"Luciano, if you have to call me that, please do it softly, especially
around campus. I really don't need the extra attention. But take me to Saks
on Fifth, I don't feel like going home just yet."

The driver bowed before closing the door. Nico settled back into the luxury
leather seat, just wishing the drive was over already. If Luciano hadn't
arrived, he would have taken the subway. It would have been awesome, if only
because it offered him some refuge from the uniformity life had come to hold
for him. He had purposely not given the driver his timetable, but somehow,
he had figured it out. He always figured it out.

Thinking about it, it made a vague type of sense to Nico. The fact that his
family was so insistent on the driver chauffeuring him around, the servants
being imported from Italy, the small but obviously lavishly appointed
mansion, the fleet of cars, the large allowances. It was a way to keep Nico
disconnected from the world around him. To stop him from sinking his roots
too deeply into American soil. He had the chauffeur, so he wouldn't meet
commoners on the public transport. He had the private mansion and the small
fleet of cars to keep him from befriending any normal people around him. The
large allowance made sure he didn't work and thus make business contacts.
Nico wasn't stupid, he knew all these things. The family didn't want to be
embarrassed. They didn't want Nico associating with undesirables and
commoners. He still bore the family name, after all. But Nico knew there was
more than that. They wanted to keep him separate from society. They couldn't
force him, but they did it in small other ways, making his life easier in
exchange for a little control. They weren't bad people, he knew, otherwise
he would long ago have rebelled. In fact, he would never have conformed. It
was the fact that he knew of their fears that he had decided to tow the
line. He knew that between him and Dante, they had created those fears, and
he knew that it wasn't right to exploit them further. But why? Why weren't
they just as focused on Dante? It was probably because he kept himself aloof
from society anyway. He didn't want anything to do with it, in fact, he
considered it beneath him. He knew his wealth, his class, his very nature
meant that he was superior to them. Maybe he was right. But hopefully he
wasn't.

The car drew to a smooth halt, making Nico focus on his surroundings: they
had arrived at Saks. Luciano jumped out the driver's seat and held the door
open for Nico. He smiled at the man, before telling him he would be done in
an hour or two. He'd meet him back here. Again, Luciano bowed before closing
the door and driving off. Nico stood on the pavement, looking at the
sparkling glass and bright lights around him. He loved Saks, not so much for
its luxury and sales, but for the way everyone seemed so happy around it. It
reminded him of his childhood, how people had milled around in town,
apparently aimless, but always with some invisible destination in mind.
People at Saks had that same air about them, the pointless ambling, the way
they just soaked up the atmosphere of being there. Nico walked into one of
the small, ritzy cafes on the street, and ordered bourbon. The fiery amber
liquid reminded him of winters at home, in better days.  He sat a full two
hours, watching people mill around, revelling in the atmosphere, in the
sheer unadulterated beauty of the ambience which surrounded the place. It
was just so exquisite to see everyone walking around, small pieces of an
enormous puzzle, each one fulfilling exactly the function they were meant
to, whether they knew it or not.

Finally, after he had slowly finished his cognac, Nico stood up, walking
back to the area he had left Luciano. Sure enough, it wasn't five minutes
later when the car pulled smoothly up beside him. He got in and told Luciano
to take him home.

The ride was smooth as usual, with Nico sitting back staring at the grey
streets passing him by. Finally, the car pulled up at home. Nico didn't wait
for Luciano to open the door for him and quickly strode up the stairs into
the entrance hall. He picked up the newspaper the copy of the New York Post
which always lay on the table at the entrance hall before quickly walking to
his room. Dante was at home, he could feel it.

Flopping down on his bed, he unfolded the newspaper, scanning the headlines.
What he read made a shiver run down his spine. *Single Mother and Four
Sisters Raped & Murdered* the headline screamed. Reading on, Nico felt his
suspicions hardening. The family had been at home in Brooklyn. They had been
found raped, their genitalia mutilated beyond belief. For some reason, every
light bulb in the house had exploded and all the electronics in the house
had short circuited. Nothing had been stolen. A neighbour had found the
house locked up from the inside: it wasn't clear how the criminal had exited
the house. The police found no prints, no clues and had no idea what
possible motives could have been involved. Traces of sulphur were found on
each of the corpses.

Not quite knowing what to do, Nico tried to reason with himself. In a city
like this, there was bound to be violent criminals lurking around, murdering
and raping innocent victims. Power surges, lightning, the exploded lights
could have been caused by anything. There was no reason to panic. Still,
Nico found himself tearing the article out of the newspaper, folding it up
and putting it in his bedside table. As much as he didn't want to believe
it, something was off about the whole thing.

Trying to force his mind onto other things, Nico spent the rest of the day
reading some of the works he would be expected to know for French and read a
few more chapters of his German prescribed reading. He went to bed that
night, still slightly uneasy about the newspaper article he had discovered.

The next morning, Nico woke up, once again drenched in sweat. This time, he
had dreamt that he had woken up in the house of the poor family who had been
raped and murdered. He had found the corpses, and had tried to leave the
house but had found himself unable. Even remembering the dream, its details
so vivid, almost made him sick. The way the corpses had been so lewdly
splayed across the floor was truly disgusting. Forcing the thoughts out his
head, Nico showered and readied himself for class. He pulled on a tight
white wife-beater and a pair of tracksuit bottoms. Again, he opted for flip
flops. He grabbed his backpack, again quickly stopped in the kitchen to
force himself to wolf down some breakfast and then slid into the waiting
car.

His first lecture for the morning was Spanish, and thankfully this time,
Nico walked into the classroom well ahead of time. He once again picked a
seat in the far, back of the classroom and settled down, waiting for the
lecture to begin. He had been there for all of five minutes when he heard
someone move into his row. He looked up from the page he had been doodling
on to see Christian shuffling his way through the desks towards him, smiling
brightly.

"What's up dude? Hope you don't mind but I don't know anyone in this class,
so thought I'd force my awesome company on you for the period. That ok?"

Damn, the boy had a sexy voice. Nico immediately felt the beginnings of the
tingling start up in his groin. Despite being annoyed, more at himself than
Christian, he forced a smile onto his face.

"Help yourself dude."

"So, my sister and I were at an international function yesterday afternoon.
We met another South African girl, Kristin, you know her? Well anyway, she's
studying law and she says she knows you and warned us to stay away. Wouldn't
say why though. Just said it was like an unspoken rule at NYU. Said
something about a brother of yours as well. What's up with all the cloak and
dagger drama dude?"

Nico hardly had time to let the words sink in Christian was talking so
quickly. He shrugged at Christian, saying he had no idea what she was on
about. By this time, the class had filled up pretty quickly and a few
moments later, the lecturer walked in. She was smoking hot by most
standards, a typical Spanish temptress. She had lock black hair, an
incredibly fit body and legs for miles, all covered by the most delicious
olive skin. Unlike the other professors, however, she told them all the
information they would need would be available online, she wasn't going to
waste her time with it. Instead, she started lecturing. The class looked
surprised, but settled into the lecture nonetheless. An hour later, to the
minute, she was done. An almost audible sigh of relief went up from the
whole class as everyone started gathering their things and filing out. Nico
stood up, noticing that Christian was already waiting for him.

"So, Raf, you got class now or do you want to go to the student centre and
grab some coffee and something to eat. I'm starving. Bianca was in such a
rush to get here this morning I didn't have time to eat."

The use of his nickname almost made Nico flinch. Yet, at the same time, it
was almost endearing. Christian stood, waiting for a reply. The way his
forehead was slightly wrinkled as he awaited the answer was cute beyond
belief. It added a touch of innocence to an otherwise insanely good looking
face.

"Bianca will be there, you know?" Christian taunted with a wink.

"Um, I don't know dude. I was actually going to the library to get some
books out."

"Ah, Raf dude, stop being such a martyr. People aren't all that dangerous,
you know. Its not like I'm going to mug you in broad daylight. You can go to
the library later. Just come."

Before he could even reply, Christian had skulked out of the classroom,
heading in the direction of the student centre. Nico trailed him, feeling
slightly frustrated with himself. Why did he give a rat's ass what this boy
thought? He should just have blown him off like he did everyone else who
tried to be friends with him. But still, there was something about this boy
and his sister, an aura that he couldn't quite place, but he knew it was
definitely distinct. It was like nothing he had ever encountered but at the
same time, there was something vaguely familiar about it. He just couldn't
put his thumb on it. As he was thinking, Nico almost walked straight into
Christian, who had decided to wait for him to catch up.

"Dude, watch where you're going! Gee. Clearly someone isn't a morning
person."

Nico felt a small smile spread across his face at the comment.

"There, that's what I'm talking about. Not so hard, is it? Though with the
amount of exercise they get, I suppose your mouth muscles must be exhausted
after that smile."

"Ah, go screw yourself," Nico said, feeling the smile broaden.

"So, I suppose I don't have to tell you that my sister thinks you're cute,
do I? You've got what, like half of New York probably running after you
already."

"Ha. I wish. But no, I don't. About your sister, you think you can let her
down gently for me. It's not that she isn't pretty fit herself, it's just,
I'm not looking at the moment."

"Dude, and here she told me she was about to propose today. Now she's going
to be heartbroken. How will she survive?" replied Christian sarcastically.
"Relax man, she just told me yesterday she thought you were good looking.
It's not like she doesn't tell me that every time a guy with a foreign
accent and good build walks past us."

Again, Nico found a genuine smile spreading across his face. It was like
Christian knew exactly what buttons to press to make him feel less awkward,
to make him open up. Funny, it seemed to be a trait his sister shared with
him.

By this time they had made their way to the small cafe at the student
centre. They cued at the counter, waiting for their turn. Christian went
first and ordered a coffee and a bagel. Nico just ordered a coffee. He
absent mindedly picked up a copy of the campus newspaper and made his way to
the table that Christian was sitting at, already digging into his bagel.

"Wow, American breakfasts are so bland. Back home, you have student
breakfasts at a lot of the restaurants. Two eggs, bacon, toast and fries for
like a dollar fifty. It's awesome."

"Yeah, I'm not much of a breakfast eater, so it doesn't bother me either
way. I usually just shovel some fruit and yoghurt down before I come to
campus."

"Even that would be better than this bagel thing. It's so... I don't know...
dry. They should put some jam and cheese on it."

"Haha, how very English of you. Why don't you just order some scones with it
while you at it. For that matter, I'll have some too."

"Ah sod off man, you know what I mean. So, you got any classes for the rest
of the day?"

"Um, yeah, I got German, and then Italian. Should be finished by like four
hopefully. You?"

"Yeah, beginners French and beginners Mandarin. Great fun. I probably also
finish up about four also, I'm not too sure though. Bianca only has her last
class at five though, so I have to wait around for her. Don't suppose you
fancy sticking around campus with me? She's still a tad scared of navigating
the subway by herself. I told her next week she's on her own though."

"Ah, sorry dude, I can't. I've already made arrangements to be home after
class."

"Oh well, no worries. Listen, you should give me you cell phone number.  You
know, just in case I decide to throw the most awesome party of the year, and
have no way of inviting you."

Nico looked up at Christian, not quite knowing what to say. He was a little
embarrassed and felt a little stupid even.

"Um, I don't have a cell."

Christian looked incredulous at the admission. What the hell? What do you
mean you don't have one? How do you survive? How do you get hold of people
when you're away from home. How do people get hold of you?"

"Well, I've never needed one before, so I don't know."

"Wow, you really don't get out much do you?"

Nico could only smile. They continued talking a few more seconds before
Christian excused himself to leave for his next class. Nico still had an
hour to kill so decided he might as well read the newspaper he had picked
up. He was browsing across the paper when he came across a disturbing
article. The article referred to the one about the four sisters and the
mother who had been murdered two days ago. It went on to state that another
brutal attack had taken place, this time, killing a father and his two sons.
Police were still investigating whether there was any sexual crimes
involved, but the other details were the same: all the electrical circuits
in the house had shorted, lights had blown, traces of sulphur on the
corpses. The article went on to warn students to stay alert.

Nico felt his heart pounding. Something was up, this time he knew it. There
was no way a thing like this could happen twice in a matter of days. What's
worse, he had the sinking feeling that he knew who it was. Nico grabbed his
bag off the chair next to him and started heading towards the area where
Luciano usually picked him up. It was with some irritation that he realised
the driver wouldn't be there. Ironic, he thought to himself, I could really
use a cell phone right now. He retraced his steps and started walking
towards the subway. The first day in a long time he could enjoy the subway
and he had to use it because of this. He gritted his teeth in anger, going
through the motions of getting onto the train without thinking about it. He
stared coldly out of the window. He knew who had committed those murders.
Dammit, didn't he realise he had to be more careful than that. He was
putting everyone at risk. Nico clenched his jaw as he went home to confront
Dante.


 ******************
Thats ch. 3. Im already working on 4, so keep your eyes pealed for the next
instalment. Theres not much sex to begin with, but i promise its coming. and
its gonna be frign hot, even if i say so myself. haha.
but anyway, holla at me to say wot u guys think!
peace!
luca.
lucawarberg@gmail.com