Vampires of Eden (Alexander #2)

17. Alexander

CHAPTER 17

Alexander

“ W hat’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me,” I say, flipping over onto my side.

Everything is wrong with me.

Fundamentally, something is very, very wrong.

“Liar.” Raphael stands over me, brooding. “You came home way too early yesterday from the safe house—and now you’re marathoning Buffy . If ever there was a red flag to tell me that something is wrong, it’s you lying on the couch and watching this silly TV show for four hours straight.”

“It’s my favorite show. I’m in the mood.”

“No. It’s your ‘comfort show’ and you only watch it when you’re upset and avoiding something. Don’t make me dig, Lexie. I’ll go through your phone.”

I glance up at him in disbelief. “Is that a threat?”

“It is.”

I shrug. “There’s nothing to find you nosey weasel. Help yourself.”

Huffing, Raphael storms off.

Perfect. Leave me alone.

How can I talk to him about what’s wrong with me when I don’t even understand it myself? Should I say, “I think I’m a disgusting predator of a vampire.” How would he respond to that?

Why the fuck would my eyes alight? Out of nowhere—and at Daniel of all vampires? Unbelievable. Especially right after he had just finished telling me about Josefina. Did something inside of me take that as a perverted invitation? What the hell?

I definitely liked Daniel when I was younger… A lot. But that was a long time ago and I got over it. Why do my eyes alight for vampires who want nothing to do with me?

My whole life, my eyes have only alighted for Oliver. He was supposed to be my mate and in my mind, I accepted that as truth. I believed in our pairing and it felt right to yearn for him. Even though, in the end, he practically despised me and fell in love with someone else.

But now, this vampire? Daniel? With his snarky remarks and cold dead stares like he’s always on the verge of telling me that I’m a fucking idiot?

What strange and unknowable entity within me would respond to him like this?

I’m so… confused. I wish I could dig a hole and lie in it. Since that’s an even more obvious sign that something is wrong, I’ve settled for camping out on the couch in the study and marathoning Buffy to take my mind off of what happened. I don’t want to think about it.

Lying on my side, I’m halfway through the episode where Cordy and Buffy get kidnapped by frat boys who try to sacrifice them to a demonic man-snake when Raphael reappears with my phone. Focused, he taps away as he sits on the arm of the couch at my feet.

“You’re an invasive prick, you know that?” I say, craning my neck to look over at him. There’s nothing in my phone. Kat texted and asked why I left early yesterday, but I haven’t responded. That’s all .

“You have messages from an unknown contact,” he says, reading. “It’s Daniel.”

“ What ?” Everything inside of me lurches and I sit upright in a full-blown panic.

“I knew it,” Raph says quietly. Nonchalant and ignoring me. “I knew it had something to do with him.”

“Give me the phone!” I lift, flipping on the couch and sitting up on my knees so I can reach Raphael and my mobile, but he swiftly moves away to stand, still reading.

“What on earth happened?” Raphael looks up at me and my whole face flushes. Like fire in my cheeks, neck and even down to my chest.

Fucking humiliating.

I can’t breathe.

“N-nothing,” I choke out. Super convincing. “Nothing happened.” My mind feels as if it’s in a messy tangle of knots. I can’t talk to Daniel—he’s going to rake me over the coals for this. Without question, he’ll scream at me and call me a manipulative pervert. Which, I probably am. I can’t ever face him again.

Raphael folds his arms and his expression softens. “You do know that… this situation with Daniel isn’t like with you and Oliver?—”

“I know that. Why the hell are you of all vampires bringing up Oliver right now?—”

“Because you’re not an adolescent anymore, Alexander. You and Daniel…” Raphael shifts his weight and sighs. “You’re not a couple of nobility kids forced together for the sake of business arrangements and kept under strict supervision. This isn’t anything like the game that you’re used to playing. If something happened, just talk to him and figure it out, okay? You’re allowed to do that. You two are adults and can make that choice.”

“There’s no ‘me and Daniel,’” I say, baffled. “I’m just—I’m the depressed idiot that shows up to help sometimes. The purebred that he barely tolerates. ”

Raphael lifts his fingers to his temple and massages. “I seriously doubt that’s the case.”

“And what if… if I don’t want to talk to him? What if I can’t face him again?”

Dropping his hand from his temple, Raphael steps forward and hands me my mobile. “Then grow up and do it anyway.” He walks around the couch toward the door to the study. “I didn’t raise a coward. And nothing about you is idiotic. Except for the fact that you just called yourself that.”

Turning to watch him, I frown. “So… I’m right, then?”

“You’re wrong. I’ll stop reading your messages from now on, okay? Unless it’s an emergency. Text him back. Right now.”

“What constitutes as an ‘emergency’?” I ask, sneering. He doesn’t respond. Just throws his hand up dismissively as he leaves the room.

Horrified, nervous, I flip my phone over in my hand like it’s something that could attack me if I make any sudden movements. Bringing it up higher with both hands, I tap my code in, then navigate to the messages.

[Hey, this is Daniel.]

[Will you call me? Can we talk?]

[Please don’t ignore me.]

Me ignoring him? Why wouldn’t he be ignoring me ? I’m the offender in this scenario.

I bring the phone up higher to text, but my hands freeze in fear. I drop them back down to my sides.

What do I even say?

My phone buzzes in my hand and I toss it across the couch, startled like a snake bit me. It lands right side up, glowing with a phone call. Cautiously, I lean to view the screen and caller ID.

The unknown number.

Daniel.

Dazed, I sit on the couch and set my feet on the floor, staring forward and waiting for the buzzing to stop. There’s no way in hell I can talk to him on the phone. Three minutes ago, I didn’t even know that Daniel owned a cell phone. Now I’m supposed to talk to him on it? After I’ve been a cringeworthy weirdo?

No. Not happening.

He said that Josefina would manipulate him with her aura. Compelling him to desire her. When he told me that, I couldn’t help but think of my behavior with Oliver and how I used to proudly flare my aura outward around him. Not because I wanted to manipulate him. I just… I wanted him to like me.

I wanted him to feel drawn to me and my nature, so I was never shy about relaxing my aura in his presence. I wasn’t ashamed to hone in on his essence, either. Sometimes we’d be in the same room and I’d quietly study his scent and presence—analyzing him in the same way that a scientist might thoroughly examine a spore under a microscope. I wanted to know him, deeply and truly. Every part of him.

The irony is, despite all that, I didn’t know him at all.

Not in any of the ways that mattered.

The very last time that I fed from Oliver was a disaster. I could feel him slipping away. Not just emotionally, because we never had that connection to begin with. But physically. The way he’d look at Aries in passing and smile at him. The way they danced together at the ball, with Oliver laughing and more euphoric than I’d ever seen him before. It hurt so much. That was also the night where I understood that our union was in danger.

Then, he told me outright that he wanted to leave. That he wanted nothing to do with me, our arrangement or all the hopes and plans I had for us.

Feeding from his neck, I felt desperate to keep him close. I wanted him so badly—to the point where I ignored his will.

I hurt him and I scared myself.

It frightened me that I could want someone bad enough to take from them. Like something dark and possessive lurking within me that I didn’t realize was there .

My mobile stops ringing against the couch, but anxiety makes my shoulders and chest stiff. Paralyzed.

I don’t know if I’ve hurt Daniel, but that’s definitely not what I want. All I can do is apologize. I’ll do that and assure him that it won’t happen again.

I am not a manipulative vampire.

I’m not .

With trembling hands, I reach for my phone and set it in my lap. I close my eyes and give myself a moment to think before typing a message.

[Hi Daniel, I’m very sorry about what happened yesterday. I don’t know what came over me and it was inexcusable, but I promise that it won’t happen ever again. I hope you can forgive me.]

I read the simple message five times before I hit send and lay the phone face down against my thigh. There’s… nothing else I can do, really. So, I exhale another breath and try to ease the tension in my shoulders.

My effort is short-lived, because my phone buzzes against my thigh.

Continuously.

Another phone call.

With wide eyes, I carefully flip it over. It’s Daniel.

“Why do you keep calling me?” I whine. Is he determined to scream at me? I apologized to him. What more could he possibly want?

When it stops ringing once more, I set it on the opposite arm of the couch, away from me. I lie down and go back to watching Buffy, even though it does little to ease the pounding tension in my neck and shoulders.

Raphael said that he didn’t raise a coward.

He did, though. Because I decide to skip my normal day at Kat and Roland’s house. I’m going the day after instead.

In the beginning when we clashed, I started going on Tuesdays and Thursdays because Daniel wasn’t there. Then, after we reconciled, I’d see him at the house on my designated days every week. I’m not sure why. He’d just be there. Every time.

Raphael eyes me suspiciously when I tell him that I’m switching to Friday this week, but he doesn’t argue or complain about changing my schedule around.

The weather is nice, so I decide to call Sebastian for a tennis match. We play in the morning, then meet with Nadya for brunch at a popular café downtown called Ginkgo . The owner of the café hired an architect to specifically build the structure around a large ginkgo tree that sits in the center. The courtyard is an open square for outdoor seating on sunny days like today. When it rains, the indoor portion of the café is best, which is comprised of glass walls so that the massive tree is visible from every seat.

“Ashwin is going to be livid that we didn’t invite her to brunch,” Nadya says.

Sebastian flicks his hand. The glamorous rings on his fingers shimmer in the outdoor sunlight. “Let’s not tell her. I vote we keep it a secret—a clandestine bruncheon.”

“If she finds out, just blame me?” I say, shrugging. “I’ll take the hit.” I couldn’t care less about Ashwin being upset with me. I think she’s been upset with me since she was born.

“Ashwin is already so annoyed with you, though,” Nadya says, shaking her head and practically reading my mind. “She still hasn’t gotten over that last poker night. Have you seen her since then? You hardly show up to anything lately, Goldie. What are you doing?”

“He told me that he’s taken on some personal projects,” Sebastian teases. “Whatever that means.”

Nadya leans forward with her elbows and eyes me suspiciously. The motion makes the cluster of vibrant bangles on her arm jangle and sparkle. She lowers her voice. “Are you seeing someone?”

I scoff in a bitter laugh. “No.”

Without my permission, images of Daniel flash in my mind.

Him on the couch, wrapped in a red crochet blanket and with his raven-black hair in utter chaos as he pops strawberry halves into his mouth. Daniel soaked through from the rain and doubled over with laughter. The two of us strolling through a misty and skeletal grove of hornbeam trees. And again, us sitting on the front steps of the vineyard cottage and talking underneath an indigo stardust sky.

Him, pinching my waist and my goddamn eyes alighting.

Obviously, I have some serious issues that I need to work through.

Nadya turns to Sebastian. “Is he lying?”

Sebastian lifts his palms. “I have no idea what the hell he’s doing! I just hope he isn’t doing Lord Cherrington.”

Collectively, we groan in disgust. Then laugh at the precise timing of our communal reaction. As we snicker like a bunch of juvenile vampires, the waiter returns to our table with a tray full of drinks balanced on one palm. He sets a Bloody Mary down for Nadya. A Mimosa for Sebastian. An orange juice for me, but then, to my surprise, a second drink. A golden sparkly-looking concoction in a champagne flute.

“Oh, I only ordered the orange juice,” I tell the waiter. “I didn’t order a cocktail.”

“Aleksey can’t handle his liquor,” Sebastian coos, picking up his drink. “A French 75 would make him silly.”

“It’s compliments from his grace sitting at the bar, your highness.” The waiter gestures and all three of us look inside the restaurant and toward the front door. From where we’re seated, we have the perfect view.

It takes me a second, but once I realize who’s there, my stomach drops .

Nadya gasps. “Lord Cherrington! Holy shit, Bas—you conjured him with your witch’s tongue.”

Sebastian chuckles. “I can do a lot of things with my tongue, but conjuring lecherous vampires is not one of them.”

“ Kutte ke aulad —he’s looking over here. He’s looking!” Nadya straightens and we all go stiff as boards, awkwardly staring at each other.

“Are you going to speak to him?” Sebastian asks, relaxing and picking up his Mimosa. “Don’t drink that cocktail.”

“Right?” Nadya says. “What if he drugged it or something?”

“No,” Sebastian frowns. “A French 75 has both gin and champagne in it—Aleksey can’t handle that shit even if the old geezer didn’t add a roofie.”

“Ahh he’s coming over,” I say, panicking. “ Shit .”

Nadya discreetly glances to the side to confirm, then looks back at me and makes a sad face, pouting. Sebastian takes a not-so-discreet sip of his Mimosa.

“Good afternoon, Lady Bhaduri, Master Ellis.” Lord Cherrington looms over our table, dressed casually but exquisitely in a waist-length leather jacket, a stylish button-up shirt and jeans. His thick silver hair is swept back and his face is clean shaven as he smiles politely.

Nadya and Sebastian offer a humble nod and greet the older vampire in unison, as if they’d rehearsed it. He shifts his dark eyes toward me. “Hello, Prince Alexander. It’s good to finally see you again—albeit in serendipitous circumstances.”

I stare up at him, frowning and not saying anything for a beat too long because Nadya and Sebastian look at me with questioning expressions. My jaw works. “Hello, Lord Cherrington.”

“Forgive me for interrupting your brunch—could I steal you away for a drink? To simply delight in your presence for a short while? I promise I’ll return his highness unharmed.”

“Forgive me , Lord Cherrington, but we’ve already ordered our meals,” Nadya says, eyeing me hopefully. “Perhaps a scheduled meeting?— ”

“Just for a moment, Prince Alexander?” The elder purebred makes his intentions and authority clear, rudely cutting her off. I glance at Nadya and her eyes are narrowed at Lord Cherrington like razor blades. Furious.

“There are many eyes watching us,” Lord Cherrington goes on. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene now, would we, your highness?”

Reluctantly, I stand.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I say in a low voice. Not wanting to draw any more attention to the situation than we already have. Agitated, I follow him back inside the restaurant. As we move, heads turn and I recognize several vampires from the aristocracy in the café.

At the bar, he sits, then gestures for me to sit on the stool beside him. “You didn’t bring your drink,” he says, grinning.

“I don’t drink casually. Only on special occasions.”

“But you’ll have one with me now, yes? I insist.” He signals the waiter, then orders another French 75. When he’s finished, his gaze re-centers on me. “I ordered this drink because it reminds me of you—golden and effervescent. Delicious.”

I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond to that, so I don’t say anything.

“You make me chase you, Prince Alexander. In some ways, I like this—a refreshing challenge for my competitive heart.” He pauses and takes a long sip of his drink.

Smoothly, he empties it, then sets it down and stares at the glass. “Let me be clear. I want you. Despite my reputation, I’m quite serious about you and settling down. But it’s become obvious that you are unenthusiastic about this match-up. You are not at all interested in me.”

He presents this information as a statement and not a question. “Are we being candid?” I ask.

His lips quirk up in an amused smile as his gaze shifts to me once more. “Let’s?”

“I am not interested in you or this arrangement—I don’t want any arrangement because it’s too soon after having lost Oliver.”

“Some say that the best way to get over something lost is to acquire something new?”

“No. I don’t want to start a new relationship just for the sake of filling a void. And I don’t want another empty arrangement.”

Truthfully, I’m not sure if it’s possible for me to find something real in Eden. The way our society is set up, I don’t have much hope. Love seems like a far-flung possibility. Like hoping for a blizzard on a tropical island.

Still, it’d be nice to at least like the vampire I’m supposed to bond with. That definitely is not the case here.

“Your mother wants you with me,” he says, placing a hand against his chest. “ I want you with me. You no longer have your dowry to ensure your independence and choice. Your father’s retirement is imminent and he is expecting you to rightfully fill his seat. So, what will you do, my handsome young prince?” Lord Cherrington discreetly moves his hand from his chest and places his palm on my thigh. My entire body goes stiff.

“You’re not supposed to touch me,” I remind him for the umpteenth time as his hand slides up my thigh and shamelessly toward my cock.

“Yes, I know,” he whispers, leaning closer. “But that makes it more exciting, doesn’t it? Doing something that I’m not supposed to do. You’re so alluring and sweet, your highness. I can’t help myself. Do you have any idea how sensual your nature is?”

Abruptly, I stand and smack his hand from my thigh. The vampires in the café pause, honing in on us because of my sudden movement, but I don’t care. “ Do not touch me,” I tell him sternly. “Stop. Touching. Me.”

He smirks, taking hold of the new champagne flute that the waiter set down for me a moment earlier. “You resisting like this only makes me want you more, Prince Alexander. I will have you. Eventually.”

Turning, I walk away because I don’t have a rebuttal for that .

The truth is, he may be right.

It terrifies me.

The next day, I go to Kat and Roland’s house.

Lord Cherrington pushes me over the edge every time. It’s like, I’m increasingly okay existing in this strange, Oliver-less world. I don’t feel gutted and miserable all the time like I did in the early days. I’m not thinking about him constantly and I haven’t burst into tears in weeks.

All of this feels like progress.

That is, until Lord Cherrington shows up and knocks me off course. Interacting with him is exhausting, then I find myself rushing out to Nantshire—to the woods, the peace and quiet. To the kind vampires here who accept me and listen.

Daniel’s narrow face, dark hair and milky-lilac eyes flash in my mind yet again. Haunting me like they did when I was fourteen. When I’d lie awake at night replaying his performance in my mind, over and over. The moonlight and complex melodies. The billowing curtains and the magic in the autumnal air.

I enjoy talking to and spending time with him, but I’ve obviously ruined that. He didn’t try calling me again after I refused to answer my mobile the second time. He never texted me back to say that he accepted my apology, either.

I’m not sure where we stand. It’s giving me low-grade anxiety—like an impending storm on the horizon.

Roland and Kat have left me alone in the house because they’re out shopping for clinical supplies. Where are they getting all this money from? Earlier this week, I noticed brand-new light fixtures in the bathrooms—not to mention the new laminate flooring in the hallways that they had installed last weekend.

I’ve been donating to the cause where I can, but they’ve obviously found another investor. Asking about it feels awkward, so I keep quiet. They were so adamant about not accepting sponsors from outside of Eden when we started. Have they changed their minds? Or did they find someone local to help fund these improvements?

Daniel has taken care of sanding and staining all the kitchen chairs in my absence. Damn, he really does work fast. With those done, I focus on the table since he hasn’t touched it yet.

The monotonous rhythm of sanding is calming as I work and the house is dead quiet. Roland bought an automatic sander to make the bigger jobs like this go faster, but Daniel is right. I work slowly. Carefully. I don’t want to make mistakes and I enjoy the process because it soothes me.

When I’m completely done sanding the top surface and all four legs of the table, I decide to take a short break before I do the pre-staining. Daniel may have finished the chairs, but I’m determined to at least pull my weight and finish the table today.

Outside on the back patio, the weather is sunny and bright. Giant billowing and puffy white clouds linger in the sky like ships waiting to dock. Lifting my arms up, I stretch, welcoming the warmth and sunlight on my face.

The birds are singing and fluttering between the trees, which are filled with new and tiny green leaves. It’s incredible to see this process so clearly out here in the countryside. The gradual but undeniable blossoming of nature and the transition from death to life.

A new beginning.

The front door inside the house opens and shuts. My assumption is that Kat and Roland have returned. But a moment later, a familiar electricity bristles across my arms, shoulders and back. Shivering, I turn. My heart jumps into my throat as I wait. Knowing who’s coming. Knowing who’s there.

A minute later, Daniel is at the back door, staring at me through the screen. His expression is unreadable, but as my body tenses, my assumption is that he’s angry. I’m about to get the telling off that I’ve been shamefully avoiding.

This is it.

The storm has arrived.