Vampires of Eden (Alexander #2)

20. Daniel

CHAPTER 20

Daniel

“ H ave either of you heard from Alexander?”

Sunday morning, I’m standing in the kitchen of the safe house and looking at Roland and Kat as they hover around the table, which, by the way, looks great with the new wood stain.

“Not yet,” Kat says, pulling some buttery-smelling pastry out of the oven with her mitts. “He should be here by now. It’s unusual for him to no-show. He’s always so good about letting us know if he can’t make it or if he’ll be late, and he said he would come to help out today.”

“I haven’t heard from him, either.” Leoni called him Friday night and made the offer for him to stay with us at the vineyard. She said he seemed receptive over the phone, and that he would think about it and get back to us.

But he hasn’t.

I even texted him last night to follow-up. No response. We’ve talked through and mostly resolved the situation with his eyes alighting, so there’s no reason for him to ignore me.

“I have Raphael’s number in my phone in case of emergencies,” Roland says, bringing two mugs of coffee over to the table. “Should we check in with him or give it more time? Do you want coffee?”

“No thanks to the coffee but yes to Raphael’s number, please? Let’s check in.” I step over to the table where Roland has set the mugs down and picked up his mobile.

As he taps away, he glances up, grinning. “You two have come a long way.”

“Yes,” I agree. “I no longer despise him based on my own prejudices. It’s progress.”

Roland snickers through his nose. “I’m glad you got that straightened out. Here.” He shows me his phone screen and I copy Raphael’s information into my contacts.

“We’re thinking about an opening date for the clinic,” he says quietly.

“Oh yeah? Are we that close to being ready?”

“We are, thanks to you and Alexander—now all we need is to finish setting up the clinic room, and to hire someone to help Kat with blood draws and inventory.”

“That’s not such a big deal this early on,” Kathryn chimes in from the table. Her rust-colored coffee mug nestled between her palms. “I can handle those things myself as long as our patronage is pretty low.”

“We don’t know what kind of response we’ll get though, do we?” Roland says, setting his phone back down. “I’d really love to hire a psychiatrist.”

Stepping toward the door, I consider. “Is there one in Eden? You might have to hire someone from the outside for that.”

“True,” Roland says, taking a seat opposite his mate. “Looking for any type of therapist in Eden is like trying to find a werewolf—they don’t exist!”

“Says the vampire,” Kathryn jests. “Humans didn’t know that we existed for centuries. I think the werewolves are more discreet than us.”

Roland shakes his head. “They don’t exist. I’m not arguing with you about this today. ”

“Today?” I laugh as I leave the room. The knowledge that this is a recurring argument between them amuses me. That’s relationship goals, I think. Someone I can have this kind of trivial and lighthearted quarrel with.

Down the hallway and out the back door to the patio, I type my message.

[Hi Raphael, this is Daniel. I haven’t heard from Alexander. Is everything alright?]

Maybe I’m being paranoid but it feels weird. We had an important conversation the last time we were together. Then, Leoni approached him with a loaded offer.

Did Alexander tell Raphael about it and the manservant-best-friend-brother freaked out? Did he tell Alexander that the idea of him living with a banished purebred and half-dead first-gen was shameful? Ludicrous?

I need answers.

After hitting send, I drop my hands at my sides. Almost immediately, my phone dings. Then, again and again. Over and over.

“The hell?” I lift the screen back to my face and read.

[Daniel!!]

[Omg, NO, Alexander is NOT well.]

[I’ve never seen him like this.]

[Or any vampire, to be honest!!!]

[I don’t know what to do??]

[I’m freaking out about it!]

My jaw drops in surprise as I read, then quickly type out a message.

[What’s going on? What’s wrong with him?]

Instantly, Raphael types and the replies stream into the chat .

[I cut him off from his long-term feeding source.]

[We’re trying a new source, but…]

[It’s not going great, exactly??]

[He’s being very weird and I don’t want to call his parents…]

[Involving them might make things worse.]

Dear God. What the fuck is he doing? I sense that he’s trying to be discreet, but I decide to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

[You cut him off from Oliver, cold turkey?]

[Yes.]

[When?]

[Last night. Out with the old!!]

I lift my palm to my face in distress. What a disaster. Taking a breath, I type another message and read it over twice before I hit send.

[Would it be appropriate for me to come and visit?]

Alexander coming to visit me is one thing. He holds the power in our aristocracy, so he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, essentially. Me visiting the private estate of a powerful Central Eden purebred family is a bit different. A First Family—a clan that helped to establish the famous Peace Treaty. If a vampire like me is visiting an estate like that, it’s because I’m performing or providing a distinct service. Period.

[Yes, please! ]

I balk at Raphael’s enthusiastic response. More texts come in as I stand on the deck, frozen in disbelief.

[Lexie’s parents are gone until next month.]

[There’s only a skeleton crew of servants here.]

[We’re all pretty chill.]

[You can come. PLEASE come. ^^ I’ll let you in the front gate!]

After figuratively picking my jaw up off the floor, I send him one last message, thanking him and telling him that I’ll leave the safe house now. He sends me the address, then two more messages.

[See you soon.]

[I’m excited to meet you. .]

The Kendrick estate is tucked within the lush upper hills of Central Eden.

Of course it is.

Driving, I maneuver the van up a gradual slope lined with majestic trees—fir, pine and spruce decked out in their rich velvety greens. Others are deciduous—maple, oak and birch—and are slowly donning their new plumage with the arrival of spring.

It rained all weekend, but today in the sunlight, the landscape glistens as if it’s been washed in liquid gold.

I pull up to an extravagant wrought iron gate, then step out of the van. The air smells fresh and clean, and it’s cool like a soft caress against my cheeks as I walk over to the number pad on the brick wall lining the property.

After pressing the call button, I stick my hands in my pockets and wait to announce myself. Birds sing brightly overhead in the quiet and I cast my eyes upward to the trees all around .

Click.

To my surprise, the imposing gate smoothly pulls itself open on one side. Hurrying, I get back in the van, then drive through.

The brick-laid road meanders amongst the towering trees. Soon, I navigate around a curve and there it is. A sprawling, Tudor-style estate beautifully nested amongst a cove of trees and emergent spring brush. There are dark lines of traditional timber impressively juxtaposed against speckled brick. The home is classic but modern without being ostentatious. It knows its worth and elegance and doesn’t need to boast about it.

“Beautiful,” I whisper, pulling into the circular drive leading to the front double doors. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Daniel?”

Gingerly, I step out of the van and shut the door. The sound is muffled in this new dimension I’ve entered. This opulent but natural atmosphere of cheerful birdsong and peaceful silence. Wealth and seclusion. An army of white daffodils lines the front of the house and I notice that the brick lane forks and leads around to the back of the property.

As I approach the stately double-doors, they swing open dramatically and I start. A lanky, smartly but casually-dressed second-gen vampire beams down at me. His eyes are light brown and his hair is a sun-kissed rust color.

First impression—he looks healthy, boyish and vibrant. A ranked vampire that’s unquestionably benefitted from his luxurious surroundings.

“Daniel?” He asks, nervous.

“Yes,” I say, stepping forward, skeptical. “Hello. Are you Raphael?”

“I am. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you—come in, come in.” He steps aside, gesturing for me to enter the foyer.

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” I walk into the house and am hit with a warm and fragrant atmosphere. Freshly cleaned surfaces and an abundance of natural light. The outward fa?ade of the estate is traditional in its design, but the inside has been fitted with modernity in mind.

Immediately to my right, there’s a sitting room with plush, deep evergreen couches. A patterned beige and coral rug is set before a river-stone fireplace. The large art pieces on the walls are cleanly displayed in thin golden frames. One is a whimsical but tasteful painting of a fox amongst the summer woodlands. Another is the Eden coastline at sunset—the deep blue of the sea paralleled with floating, richly purple and orange clouds.

“Ahh, I get it now.” Raphael looks me over as his copper eyebrow quirks up. “You’re pretty sexy, aren’t you?”

I frown. “Excuse me?”

“I asked Alexander about you—specifically, what you look like and if you were handsome or cute. He shrugged and said he didn’t know.” Raphael grins roguishly. “But he knows, the brat. Oliver was cute. And cute is un-intimidating. Sexy, though… he doesn’t know how to handle sexy. You’re going to have to hold his hand, I’m afraid. Take the lead.”

Oh my fucking God. I don’t know how to respond to any of this, so I bypass it altogether. “Um… is it alright if I see him?”

“Of course. Follow me?” Raphael stalks ahead, his posture perfectly straight. But not rigid or terse. Self-assuredly despite his harried state.

I follow him, internally flustered and feeling like an emaciated corpse that’s climbed out of my grave to visit this place filled with too much color, light and life.

Of all things—me? Sexy?

Bullshit.

I used to be sexy. Once upon a time and long, long ago, when I was healthy and properly nourished. When my skin was supple and my eyes were a brilliant hue of lavender. I walked with strength in my body and confidence in my musical aptitude, which I had been lauded for ever since I was a child.

Truth be told, I was arrogant. When Josefina showed romantic interest in me, I didn’t bat an eye. I thought, Of course, a beautiful purebred princess would want me. Why shouldn’t she?

I know how this aristocracy feels about purebreds being with ranked vampires, but my mothers never taught me to look down on myself in that way. So, I didn’t care about what society said. I thought I was above those ugly rules and mindsets.

Turns out, I wasn’t.

As we climb a wide staircase leading to the second floor, I scratch the back of my head. Here I am again, getting close to a purebred that’s far above my “station.” I don’t want Josefina and the past to have power over me, but… did I learn my lesson or not?

“Like I told you via text,” Raphael cuts into my steady stream of self-doubt. “He’s um… not totally with it, if you get what I mean? He’s a bit primitive, but totally harmless.”

“He’s delirious,” I say, remembering the feeling of being cut off from Josefina. An emotionally and biologically significant source in my life for years. “His system has been abruptly torn from its familiar source. He’s in a state of shock.”

Raphael looks over his shoulder, surprised. “You know about this stuff?”

“A bit,” I say, glancing away. “It would be better if you did this slowly and not cold turkey. What is the reasoning for this sudden change?”

At the top of the landing, Raphael slows. There are skylights above us in the slanted ceiling, framing the bright blue sky.

“He told me about the offer you and Leoni made—for him to come live with you and learn the vineyard? I support this. I like it, but I don’t want him leaving this house still sucking on Oliver’s blood bags. Does that make sense?”

“I suppose. But if he needs more time, he needs more time. You can’t force this kind of situation. There’s too much emotional investment.”

“That’s what annoys me.” Raphael throws his hands up, emphasizing his frustration. “Lexie is ‘emotionally invested’ all by himself. He’s always been and I knew this would happen—some way or another. Because Oliver never even tried. He barely paid Lexie any attention. So now, he’s making himself sick over this little punk’s blood. Do you think Oliver is somewhere sick because he stopped feeding from Alexander? Heck no. He doesn’t care and he never has. I’ll bet he’s perfectly fine and moving on with his life. I want the same for Lexie. I’m sick of this.”

Well, that was a lot to unload on a literal stranger.

I take a deep breath. Since he’s obviously comfortable being candid with me, I follow his lead. “I understand what you’re saying, but ultimately, this isn’t about how you feel. It’s about what Alexander feels and what he needs. We have to go at his pace. We can’t rush him.”

If I could have weaned myself off of Josefina’s blood slowly and with care, I wonder if I’d be malnourished like this? Maybe I could have kept my health and vivacity. Maybe I wouldn’t have struggled with pain and torment that later resulted in hate and bitterness.

Raphael looks at me and grins. “Yes, you’re right. We certainly do, don’t we?”

Embarrassed to hear my own word thrown back at me, I wave a hand. “I meant generally speaking.”

“Sure.” He turns and steps forward. “This way.” He guides me toward the end of the creamy, sun-filled hallway and past a series of smaller but equally lovely portraits of Eden scenery and wildlife framed in gold.

When we’re in front of another set of double doors, he knocks softly with his knuckles as a warning, then opens one and peeks inside.

“He’s been sleeping a lot,” Raphael explains as he opens it wider. “But he won’t feed or talk to me. I gave him the first bag last night. He drank half of it and seemed alright. But then he vomited. I found him passed out in bed. Blood everywhere. Horrific. He’s been strange ever since.”

Stepping into the room, a shiver runs through me and I bristle. The air feels charged with raw displeasure. Pain, even. The usual citrusy-sweetness I perceive from him is sour. Not awful, but not right. Not zesty and enticing like normal.

Raphael walks over to the bed and the room is cast in filtered light because sheer curtains have been drawn over the very tall windows. Alexander’s mahogany four-poster is beautifully dressed with a fluffy duvet, and I can see his blonde head poking out from underneath and resting atop one of the cloud-like pillows.

The manservant-best-friend-brother leans over Alexander. Despite his earlier outburst, his voice is soft when he speaks. “Lexie? You have a visitor.”

He doesn’t respond. I step up beside Raphael so that I can view Alexander’s face. Aside from the very dark blue-black circles underneath his eyes, he doesn’t look too bad. Raphael tries once more.

“Daniel is here. Can you sense him?”

I balk because that was an interesting choice of words. Slowly, Alexander opens his eyes. They’re paler than usual and unfocused, but he’s responsive. After another moment, his eyes flicker up and land directly on me.

“Hey,” I say, matching Raphael’s quiet tone. “Are you alright?”

Something in the air around Alexander shifts and shimmers. He doesn’t move and I don’t either, because his eyes are locked on me as they begin to warm and alight. Soon, he’s staring at me from the pillow with golden-firelight eyes, just like before when I pinched him.

Except this time, there’s no flinching or running away. His stare is unabashed. Unapologetic.

“Well, now,” Raphael says, glancing sideways at me. “That’s quite the reaction.”

Spellbound, I swallow. “Um… yeah.”

“Is this the first time that this has happened?”

There’s no reason for me to lie about it, so I don’t. “Not the first time. ”

“Interesting.”

Shaking my head, I snap myself out of the trance. “Do you still have Oliver’s blood?”

“I do. It’s locked away.”

“Can you bring some here? Along with the other blood you tried to give him? We—You… This has to be done slowly, alright? Little by little.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’m with you.”

“How much of Oliver’s blood was he drinking?”

“He was being sneaky about it, so I’m not a hundred percent certain. But I think he was drinking half-a-bag per week? Not because he was trying to wean himself off, though. It was to stretch it out as long as he could.”

“That’s fine—can you bring a small glass of his blood, and also the neutral bag, please?”

He gives a shallow nod and smiles. “I’ll be right back. You can sit on the edge. He won’t bite.”

Raphael strides out of the room and I watch as he goes. He leaves the door cracked and I sit along the edge of the mattress. Alexander’s eyes glow fiercely as he stares into my face, unspeaking.

“Can you sit up?” I ask.

Alexander shifts himself upright. He moves, never taking his eyes off of me, as if he’s examining every detail of my face and it is… unnerving. “You’re just staring at me,” I say quietly. “It’s uncomfortable.”

His eyes drop to his hands above the comforter, like a child that’s been scolded. Those two golden bands are wrapped around the ring finger of his right hand and they sparkle despite the ambient light of the room.

“I’m not angry,” I explain, feeling a strange urge to soothe him. I adjust my seating because my nature is doing funny things inside of me, like trickling warmly as it flows up and down my spine. “Raphael shouldn’t have cut you off like this. We’ll fix it, alright?”

He’s silent as I look him over. His hair is a tousled mess and the bags underneath his eyes are prominent. Alexander is always perfectly put together—even when he comes to help at the safe house. Like he’s well-equipped with a versatile closet that holds an outfit for every occasion. Clean, durable pants and sweatshirts for home improvement projects. Smart, handsome casual-wear for peddling wine at a village market.

Today, though, and aside from his cozy-looking pajamas, he’s in disarray. He stares down at his hands and I don’t… I don’t know what comes over me, but I reach out, cautiously, and brush my fingers against his knuckles.

“You’ll get through this,” I assure him.

Gently, he turns his hand over and meets my fingers with his open palm. He hesitates, as if he isn’t sure my hand is something he can touch. I breathe, closing the gap as I slide my palm into his and brush the cold metal of his rings. He wraps his fingers around mine, securing our grip.

When we’re connected, he lifts his head and meets my eyes.

I didn’t think my heart was capable of beating this fast in my chest, or pulsing this loudly in my ears and temples. A shimmery warmth is centered between our palms. Lovingly, it brushes up my arm and down my torso. I glance away from him because the heat of it is overwhelming. Feeling so much activity in my body after sensing almost nothing for so, so long.

This isn’t emptiness, animosity and pain like I’ve grown accustomed to. It’s bright and sweet. Timid, soft and wonderfully good.

“I’ve got the blood.”

Raphael announces his reentrance and I reflexively snatch my hand away in shame.

I…

What the hell am I doing?

Get it together, Daniel.

“Listen, I do not want him to be hooked on Oliver’s blood anymore,” Raphael says, walking over to meet me with a shot glass in one hand and two bags of blood in the other. “I trust what you’re saying, I just think this prolonged habit is probably screwing him up in some fundamental way, you know? Like a stain on his nature and senses—or maybe a blockage.” He sets the items on the bedside table.

“That could be the case,” I say, ignoring the fluttery thump of my pulse and examining the contents he’s delivered. One bag is half full and the other is full. I pick up the latter. “This is purebred blood?”

“Yep.”

“Where do you manage to find a healthy bag of purebred blood like this?” I ask, distracted from the matter at hand. The primary issue with being cut-off from Josefina was the lack of purebred blood to replace her. Leoni offered to have her blood bagged for me when I was in my darkest days of recovery, but she’s my friend. I didn’t want to burden her that way.

It’s amazing to me that I’m just… holding a random bag full of it. No big deal. As if it isn’t impossible to come by.

I might as well be holding a diamond-encrusted chalice of angel tears.

“These wealthy purebreds—they have resources and take care of their own like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Oh, I would believe it,” I say, annoyed as I set the bag down and switch to the half-full one. “This is Oliver?”

“It is.”

I twist off the cap, then pour a little of it into the shot glass. About half of the half that’s remaining.

“There are blood boutiques where they can go in and get what they need in case of an emergency, like this,” Raphael says, gesturing his hands toward Alexander, who watches us silently. Well, me , rather. “Or if they’re unbonded, bored and just want to taste someone new. It’s wild. They have a proper shop with inventory, but there’s also a swanky art-deco bar in the back.”

“Wow,” I say, flatly. “ Must be nice.”

“You can have a bag if you want. I’ll give you one. Just don’t tell anybody.”

“No thanks.” If he’d asked me two years ago when I was foaming at the mouth for a purebred’s blood, I would have accepted this offer. Without question.

Now, though, I’m not sure if that’s something I would ever risk putting myself through again. To be hooked and dependent upon another purebred to the point of delirium and madness. By the end of it, I was disgusted with myself.

“I’m going to give him a shot of Oliver’s blood to help settle his nature and the tantrum it’s throwing,” I explain, taking the shot glass in one hand. “Then, we’ll have him drink half of this new bag. Let’s follow-up with another shot of Oliver, just for good measure. It’ll be like giving him a spoonful of sugar to help make the medicine more palatable.”

Raphael smiles as he grabs the unopened bag and twists off the cap to get it ready. “Sounds good. You’re very knowledgeable about this, Daniel. I’m glad that you’re here. Obviously, Lexie is happy to see you, too.”

I glance up at the vampire in question. He’s still watching me with glowing molten eyes. God help me. I lift the shot glass toward him. “Will you drink?”

Alexander blinks, pulling his eyes from mine and looking at the glass as I hold it out for him. He reaches, but I’m confused when his hand slips past mine and his fingers gently take hold of my wrist. He pulls me forward a bit and I have no clue what’s going on. Does he want me to bring the glass to his lips? Like I’m feeding a baby bird?

He dips his head. Everything becomes crystal clear when he brings the skin of my wrist to his nose. I watch in shock as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Before I can blink, his tongue laps across my veins in the same way that someone might indulgently lick an ice cream cone on a summer day.

When his tongue caresses my skin, a hot, tumultuous shiver rushes through my entire body and renders me speechless. My breath catches and I stiffen. Everywhere. Aroused and shocked and I… I don’t know… I can’t...

“Whoa, down boy—Oh my God!” Raphael leans in and fists the top of Alexander’s messy hair. Smoothly, he pulls him upright and I almost spill the shot of blood because Alexander still has his fingers tightly wrapped around my arm.

“Not him, silly rabbit. The glass.” Raphael takes the shot from my hand with his free one. Like a trained professional, he tilts Alexander’s head back slightly and brings the glass to his lips. “Cut it out and drink this, please.”

The three of us are locked in a strange pretzel position as Alexander drinks. His hand is wrapped around my wrist and Raphael’s hand is gripped in his floppy hair as he feeds him. When the shot is emptied, Raphael lets go, sets the glass down and takes hold of the new bag. “Now this, right?”

“Y-yes.” Still in shock, I swallow and suck in a sharp breath. Alexander’s eyes are penetrating as Raphael reaches over and pulls his fingers from my wrist to disconnect us. He makes him hold the bag as he brings it to his mouth. Alexander drinks, blinking while Raphael supports his hand over the bag.

I watch, dazed and with my insides prickling from head to toe. Did it… Did I seem as if I was offering myself? That wasn’t my intent—and I definitely didn’t give him consent. Could he have bitten me just now? Would he have?

“There,” Raphael says, setting the bag aside. “All done. Let’s just go for one shot of Oliver, please? If we give him the second shot, he’ll still be consuming half a bag, which defeats the purpose, right?”

“Sure,” I say absentmindedly. “I think so.” What are we even talking about?

“You’re as white as a ghost.”

“I always look like this.”

Raphael chuckles. “No, I mean, are you alright? He didn’t mean any harm—once he’s back in his right mind, I’ll tell him to apolo?— ”

“ No .” I surprise myself when I anxiously lift my palms. Raphael draws back slightly, startled as well. “He doesn’t—What I mean is… It’s fine. I’m alright.”

“You don’t seem alright.”

I rub my palms against my face. “I’m fine.” I don’t want to confess that I’m wildly aroused. That I suddenly feel more sexually charged and turned on than I have in years. I am not going to be that candid with this vampire.

Hesitating, I glance at Alexander. His eyelids are halfway closed. He needs to sleep again. Quaking inside, I stand from the bed and turn to hide my boner. “We should let him rest. It’ll help.”

Raphael nods and steps up, urging Alexander down until he’s flat and nearly passed out underneath the duvet. He breathes deeply as his eyes burn out and flutter closed.

Scratching the back of his head, Raphael sighs. “I might have underestimated how difficult this process would be.”

“Mm. Just a tad.”

“Are you in a rush to go?”

“No… I’m not,” I say, discreetly breathing and calming my body. “Why?”

“I could give you the grand tour. And if you want… you could even stay the night? It’s a long drive back to the cottage. Plus, we have everything you could possibly need here. That way, you can see how he’s doing in the morning?”

My knee-jerk reaction is to decline this offer. It feels ludicrous—me, staying overnight in a house like this that belongs to a family like Alexander’s.

It’s outlandish.

Even still…

“Yes. I’d like that, thank you.” I’ll text Leoni to let her know. No doubt I’m going to get an earful in response.

Raphael smiles, then guides me toward the door. “It’s my pleasure. Follow me.”