Vampires of Eden (Alexander #2)

5. Alexander

CHAPTER 5

Alexander

T he drive out to Nantshire the next morning offers a sense of much needed calm. The trees tower over the road as if I’m entering a different dimension—one where my chest feels less constricted. The burden on my shoulders eases and I can breathe more easily.

I don’t know what it is or why, but it helps.

“It’s a nice surprise having you here today.” Kathryn holds the front door open, smiling as if she genuinely means what she says. It’s nice.

“Some time opened up in my schedule, so I wanted to come help,” I tell her, stepping onto the worn, creaking hardwood of the foyer.

The house smells like a strange mix of cinnamon rolls and construction dust. Bread baking, but also raw materials being torn apart. “How did the demo on the bathroom go?” I ask. “Is it all finished?” Roland and Kathryn decided to start the renovations with upgrading the bathrooms. They hired a crew to demo the old tile. We’ll install the new tile ourselves to save costs.

I’ve helped with the gardening in the spring and fall at the estate, but I’ve never done anything like this before—actual home-improvement projects. I’m looking forward to it .

Kathryn leads me down a narrow hallway amidst a discord of sounds echoing throughout the house. Pots and pans clamoring loudly from within the kitchen. Ahead, the bristling of sandpaper rubbing against a hard surface. Strangely, something in the air creates a distinctly warm buzz against my skin like an electric current.

“The demo is all finished,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “The crew got everything cleared out over the weekend. Now, the wall surfaces need to be cleaned, dried and sealed before we’re ready to tile. We started yesterday, so your timing is perfect.”

“There are three bathrooms, right? The smaller one here on the first floor, the larger one upstairs that’ll serve as the main facility for your residents, and then the one off the kitchen and near the back porch?”

Kathryn slows near the open door to the smallest bathroom, then peeks her head inside. “Yes, that’s exactly right—Hey, is everything okay?” She taps the wooden frame with her knuckles.

Without warning, the blithe ease I feel fizzles and disappears. No, not disappears. It tightens into something tense in my gut and chest. A kind of unanticipated stress flares up my spine—like the warm electricity I felt a moment ago has been dialed up twenty notches.

Daniel is crouched in the bathtub. His clothes are covered in dust from sanding and his dark hair is tied in a tight knot atop his head. When he turns, he lifts the clear plastic goggles from his face. “Yeah, all is… well.” His opaque eyes focus on me over Kathryn’s shoulder. Like a switch being flicked, his dark eyebrows knit together in displeasure.

The change in his expression isn’t subtle at all.

Instinctively, I take a step back.

“Great,” Kathryn says, seemingly unaware of the odd tension pulled taut between me and Daniel like an invisible and electrified rubber band. “Help has arrived. You two have met before, yes?”

“We have.” Daniel flips his goggles down and turns back toward the wall. He resumes sanding .

Jesus Christ.

Have I done something to him that I’m unaware of? What’s his problem?

“Perfect,” Kathryn says, stepping aside and gesturing for me to enter. “Daniel can show you what needs to be done, and all the tools are here on the counter. There are extra sanding sponges in the kitchen if you need one.”

This space is too small. Especially considering the irritable first-gen vampire that obviously hates me. I don’t know how Kathryn doesn’t notice, but it’s as if there’s violent electrical currents emanating from Daniel’s body and bouncing off of the bare walls.

I smile politely. “Maybe I should start in the bathroom upstairs? Or the one near the garden. Divide and conquer?”

Kathryn folds her arms. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”

“No, I have not.”

“Okay. So, let Daniel show you what to do, first. I figure, if the two of you work on this bathroom, me and Roland can work on the second one, then all four of us can tackle the big one upstairs. I think it’ll be fastest that way.”

Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders and decidedly ignore the tingling, staticky sensation racing across my forearms. “Alright, yes, that makes sense.”

Kathryn smiles, a playful undertone beneath her words. “Unless, of course, his highness insists on doing things his way?—”

“No,” I tell her, grinning and lifting my palms, understanding the jest. “That’s not it at all. I’m fine. Thanks, Kathryn.”

She grins. “I’ll come back for the two of you in a bit for a tea break. I don’t know why my mate insists on baking bread today—as if we don’t already have enough stuff to do.” She rolls her eyes, then crunches across the plastic covering the floor and leaves the bathroom.

The monotonous friction of Daniel rubbing sandpaper against the wall is too loud in the silence. It’s awkward .

I clear my throat. “Hey, so… do you mind showing me what to do, please?”

He pauses, but doesn’t face me. “There’s an extra sanding sponge on the counter. Use it to make sure the walls are completely smooth. Everything to my right is finished, so start in the far corner to my left.”

He continues sanding.

Great.

“Okay…” I glance around and there’s a charcoal-colored sponge atop the porcelain sink. Looks like the same one he’s using. “Does it matter if I smooth it back and forth? Up and down, or in a circular mot?—”

“No. Just make sure it’s smooth to touch with your fingers. After we clean up, we’ll start sealing.”

Nodding, I walk over to my designated corner opposite him and assess the wall, then touch it with my fingertips. The texture is rough and gritty from where the demo crew removed the old tile. I look up. The ceiling is pretty high. I’m not short, but I’ll need a step ladder to reach the corners.

With the sanding sponge against the wall, tentatively, I start with a circular motion. Soon, the tiny bathroom is filled with the abrasive hum of our work. It reminds me of white noise, or maybe an aggressive wind rustling the dry autumn leaves of a maple tree.

The longer we work, the more I find myself relaxing into this noisy but concentrated atmosphere. The dark clouds that constantly float in the background of my mind—Oliver and the rejection, the fact that I’m a complete and utter failure in romantic relationships, and the real possibility of losing my autonomy and being obligated to Lord Cherrington—it all fades away.

I’m focused on this wall and the details of it. The tiny cracks and crevices that will likely need to be filled in and re-sanded before we do the priming. The snowfall of dust as it coats my hands, sweatshirt and pants. I lose myself in it because the sensation is cathartic. Much needed .

I’m not sure how much time has passed when Kathryn peeks her head back inside the bathroom.

“Gentleman, Roland insists that we take a tea break and try these cinnamon croissants he’s baked. Meet us in the kitchen?”

“Sure,” I say, smiling as Kathryn leaves us alone again. I don’t think I’ve ever had a cinnamon croissant before. Don’t they use butter in those?

“You’re slow.”

Blinking, I look over at Daniel as he tugs the plastic goggles from his dust-covered head. His inky-black hair looks as if it’s streaked with gray because of the debris. He sits on the opposite side of the bathtub from where he initially was when I arrived.

“What?” I say, caught off guard.

He points with his worn, ashen sponge. “Why are you still in that same corner? It’s been an hour and a half since you got here. I’ve done this entire wall in that time, and now I have to do half of yours.”

“I’m sorry,” I say defensively. My chest tightens and my spine tenses once more. “This is my first time doing this, so I wanted to be careful.”

“That’s nice. But you’re not much ‘help’ if I still have to do most of the work, your highness .”

We stare at each other. His pale, frustrated eyes bore into mine and that strange sensation of electric goosebumps rushes up my arms and makes me step back. “You could relax, you know. Just, chill out.”

“Why are you here?” he asks, point blank. “Is this some kind of experiment for you? Oliver dumped you and hurt your feelings, so you thought you’d take a sabbatical from the upper hills of Eden to lick your wounds and see how the lower-ranked vampires live? A taste of the ‘simple life’?” Daniel scoffs, looking me over. “Yet another arrogant purebred doing whatever the hell you want.”

The air in the room hollows out. Like I’ve been shoved over the side of a towering building and now I’m hanging onto the ledge with my fingertips as I stare at him, wide-eyed from disbelief.

I expected this shit from Ashwin when I walked into that dinner and poker game last week. Mentally, I was prepared for it. My guard was up, because I know that crowd and how they operate. The undermining, teasing and antagonism. I’ve grown up with that, so my armor is always ready. Dealing with it is second nature.

This? I was not prepared for.

Not at all.

Blinking, I don’t say anything as I turn, then leave the bathroom. The tumultuous sea and black clouds of my humiliation and disappointment rush back in as I walk toward the kitchen.

There was no reason for me to do so, but I had imagined that this house… that this environment would be a refuge. Somewhere I could lay that armor aside and just breathe for a while.

Maybe Daniel is right and I don’t deserve that. Who am I with all my privilege to want that from these vampires? Fuck me.

“Hey.” I peek inside the kitchen. The air is warm and wafting with cinnamon, sugar and definitely butter. “I’m taking off.”

Roland balks at the counter. He’s wearing bright yellow oven mitts with daisies all over them and a matching apron. “What? You can’t leave. The croissants are finally ready—it took me two days to prep them!”

“I apologize. They smell wonderful, but I think I should go. Thank you for letting me come today with such short notice.”

I’m not welcome here. The last thing I need is another hostile environment.

Sensing the electric rush against my arms, I turn and see Daniel standing in the hallway just outside of the bathroom. He stares at me, inscrutable, but I look away and back toward Roland and Kathryn’s confused expressions. “Thanks again.”

Before the darkness overtakes me, I stalk through the hallway and out the front door.