Vampires of Eden (Alexander #2)

22. Alexander

CHAPTER 2 2

Alexander

A fter the horrific episode with drinking the new blood, an entire week passes before I truly feel healthy and adjusted. I’m better, without question. But I definitely feel… different.

Unsatisfied, somehow?

My meals are nutritious but not fulfilling like they used to be. So, I feed more often because my nature is telling me that it’s always hungry.

Raphael and me are standing in the garage. The large door is open and the back garden of the house is even greener than it was a week ago. From this angle, it looks like a lush picture inside a massive frame.

With glassy eyes, he hands me a small cooler. “I packed you a lunch.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Call me when you get there. Are you sure that you have everything you need?”

“Raph, relax , alright? The vineyard is only a couple hours away, and this… It’s a two-week trial. Plus, I’ll be back next weekend to see Buffy.” I decided it wouldn’t be worth it to uproot her for such a short time. I’ll miss her like crazy, though. My sleeping buddy.

Raphael sighs. “A lot can happen in two weeks.”

“Nothing will happen in two weeks. And I’ve got the birthday banquet on Sunday, remember?” Raphael kept this one society event on my schedule during the vineyard stay, just so I wasn’t completely missing from the social scene for two full weeks.

“This feels like the beginning of something important. I can sense it.”

I shake my head. “It’s not. I’ll be right back.”

“Gosh… what will I do if you don’t need me anymore and I’m an empty nester? I doubt Daniel would want me to stay in the house as your servant. I need to give this some serious thought.”

“ Stop it .”

“Did you text Daniel to let him know you’re on the way?”

“Not yet. I’ll do it in the car before I pull off.” Frowning, I rub the back of my neck. Raphael has been obsessed with Daniel since meeting him. Every day he asks me something about him—if we’ve texted each other or how he’s doing. It’s freaking weird.

I’m almost constantly thinking about Danny as it is. I don’t need these extra prompts.

“Can I say something?” Raphael asks, looking atypically hesitant.

“Could I realistically stop you? Haven’t you said enough?”

He steps forward and places both of his palms against my shoulders, then looks me square in the eyes. “A tiger has no business chasing after a koala. A tiger should be with another tiger.”

The air between us is stiff. Only for a moment, though, because I shake off his palms and step away. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you making up proverbs?”

“Do you get what I’m saying, Lexie? Focus on the sexy tiger .”

“I’m leaving.” Groaning, I turn my back and walk toward my car, but Raphael thrusts his chest into my spine and wraps his arms around me so that I can’t move .

“Text me when you get there?” he says, his voice muffled.

“I will. Thanks for lunch.” When he releases me, I make my way to the car and get inside. After I set the cooler on the passenger seat, I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and type out a quick text.

[Good morning. Leaving the house now.]

Immediately, Daniel starts typing.

[Morning. See you soon. I was just about to text you. Are there any particular vegetables that you don’t like?]

Smiling, I consider the question before responding.

[No, not really. That was a random question.]

I wait. A few seconds later, a new message pops up.

[Do you think werewolves exist?]

Surprised, a loud laugh bursts from my chest. He sends another message as I recover.

[THAT was a random question.]

[With a hint of philosophical.]

This makes me chuckle even more as I type my response.

[Always the intellect. A weighted question like this deserves serious contemplation. We’ll talk about it when I’m there, yeah? :-) ]

[Do you promise? ]

[I promise.]

Grinning like an idiot, I start up the car, shift it into drive, then wave goodbye to Raphael as I pull out of the garage. Carefully, I maneuver through the garden, down the winding driveway and eventually through Central and onto the main road that leads to the vineyard cottage.

It’s early enough in the morning that the air still smells new. Fresh and clean. A soft mist hangs in the atmosphere and the vegetation is covered in glistening dew drops.

I love mornings. Especially when it’s quiet and not many vampires are up and about. It feels like a secret that only I know about, and there’s so much promise as far as what the day might bring.

Adapting to this neutral blood has been rough, but I feel especially strong as I drive. Revitalized and excited about the newness of it all.

For good measure, I had a video call with my parents yesterday and told them what’s been going on. They were surprised because they thought I had stopped feeding from Oliver months ago.

“Good,” my mother declared flippantly. “Now you’ll be better prepared for Lord Cherrington.”

I sighed audibly, sulking, but didn’t contradict her. Father caught my exasperated response and frowned in sympathy. It would be nice if he spoke up for me about this. Unfortunately, he’s about as useless as I am when it comes to standing up to Victoria. I know that I need to fight this out with her. Realistically, I’m going to avoid that confrontation until I’m forced to deal with it. I’m not ready.

Lady Victoria Kendrick does not respond kindly to boundaries. Particularly those constructed by me, and I just don’t want to hear it. Especially since I don’t have any tangible plans or alternatives to counter her inevitable arguments.

She left the call after ten minutes because she was having drinks with a friend. When Father and I were alone, he asked if I had seen Daniel again. I told him that I had—that we were friends now and I’d likely be talking to him often. Father was pleased to hear this. He wants Daniel in a piano concerto someday at the Royal Opera House in Central. I told him to give it time.

I’m not sure if Daniel and I are friends, but that was the best way to describe him to my father in the moment.

When I think of Daniel—which I do a lot these days—I feel excited. He’s refreshing somehow, like a cool and moody autumn night after a hellish summer. An interesting, perceptive and sharp vampire, and I’m eager to see what each moment with him will bring. What he’ll say, what insights he’ll reveal or how we’ll laugh together. I think he’s also the most patient man I’ve ever met.

My behavior and nature as of late worry me. These unexpected and vulgar actions that pop out of me like an aggressive case of the hiccups. My eyes alighting—not once, but three times now. And then licking him? Fucking hell. I am, without doubt, a predatory vampire. There’s no use denying it anymore. Too much evidence is stacked against me.

That day he came to visit, I was in a fog. Like a thick, heavy cloud of cotton and my brain, my senses—everything felt blocked. Inside, I wanted to scream, push forward or move. To do something . I couldn’t see or think straight.

Then, my senses honed in on Daniel and his distinct staticky buzz. The familiar electric rush of him across my skin helped to clear the heaviness. I was still delirious, but I could see and smell him. It was like drowning in the ocean and being thrown a life raft. I focused on him, holding onto his essence and presence for dear life.

So, I just… wanted more of him. To clear my head of the awful fog. The desperation and my actions made sense in the throes of it.

When I woke up the next morning and realized what I’d done, I was mortified. Before I could thoroughly flog myself, I sensed him somewhere within the estate. Miraculously, he was still there, so maybe I hadn’t offended him too badly? My first inclination was to leave him alone, but he’d told me that I could talk to him when things happened, so I did. And I’m glad.

Why is my nature like this? There was no realistic chance for me with Oliver, and there’s no chance for me here, either. Danny has been weakened and wounded because of a purebred’s abuse. He tolerates me, but I wouldn’t dare… I can’t even say it.

Anyway, I have to do better. I need to learn how to control these gross compulsions.

When I finally pull up to the vineyard, I’m amazed. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve visited and now, the grapevines are littered with tiny green leaves. The rows stretch outward for miles. In the distance, the craggy mountains are still snowcapped underneath a pale and cloudless blue sky.

What a breathtaking view. The enclosure of our garden and the surrounding trees outside my bedroom windows and balcony isn’t a shabby sight by any means. But this? Magnificent.

After parking the car in front of the cottage, I hop out and head toward the trunk to grab my suitcases. As I wrestle with them, the front door opens. I look and Daniel is there—long and lean as he steps out onto the porch with a mug in his hand. The dark length of his hair is swept back and he looks comfortable in tapered sweats and a navy-blue t-shirt. A cartoon-ish rubber duck is in the center and it’s holding something… a knife? The words “I choose violence” are underneath the graphic.

“Welcome,” he says warmly, barefoot and standing on the top step.

His shirt makes me laugh, so my voice comes out amused. “Hey, thanks. Is this shirt a warning for me?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise as he looks down at his shirt. He grins. “No. This was the only clean shirt I had left. Today is laundry day. ”

“It doesn’t seem like a coincidence,” I jest, setting the second suitcase on the gravel and closing the trunk.

“It is, though. I promise. If you bring the suitcases up here, I can help wheel them inside?”

Grabbing hold of both, I move toward the porch where he’s standing in the center. Staying on the lower step, I place the luggage beside him. “I need to grab my jacket and one more thing—Raph packed me a ‘lunch.’ I’m pretty sure it’s blood.”

“How are you feeling today?”

When I look up, I’m hit with Daniel’s intense, milky-lilac gaze. It’s penetrating, but not menacing. Not even blank like I’ve perceived it before. It’s softer, somehow? “You look good,” he goes on quietly. “Healthy.”

I glance down at the suitcases, breaking eye contact because a heated flush makes its way up my neck. I really don’t want to start things off like this. “I feel pretty good,” I say, fumbling with the luggage tag like it’s something important that commands my full attention. “Almost normal.”

“Are you still taking shots of Oliver?”

“No, not for three days. So far so good.” Cautiously, I glance up. He stares out at the vineyard with his chin lifted. He looks… regal from this angle and with the sunlight lining his profile.

“I hope Raphael isn’t rushing you?”

I shake my head, suddenly unable to peel my eyes away from his face and the ethereal white-purple glow of his eyes in the sun. “He’s not. It was my choice to stop.”

Without moving his head, his irises flicker down to meet mine as he smiles. “Good.”

Inhaling sharply, I turn and walk back down the steps while suppressing the flush and obstinate spark of my nature. “I’ll get the other suitcase and meet you inside?”

“Sure.”

Pausing at the passenger-side door, I watch him over the roof of the car as he drags the suitcase into the cottage. His hair is tied in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. It flows loose and in-between his shoulder blades. Usually, his hair is neatly braided or confined in a tight top-knot. I’ve never seen it undone like this…

Fuck me. I’m not off to a good start here at all, am I?

Control , Alexander. I am not a predator.

Once I have everything, I head back to the porch, quickly grab the second suitcase and drag it inside. Just as I’m taking my shoes off at the threshold, Leoni comes bounding down the steps. She looks smart in a waist-length jacket layered over a prettily patterned blouse and fitted dress pants cropped at her ankles.

“Hey, good morning,” I say, smiling. “You look lovely.”

“Hola Puercoespííín, gracias. Bienvenido a nuestra casa.” She opens her arms wide as she walks over and embraces me tightly.

“Muchas gracias,” I say, returning the hug. “Lo aprecio mucho. ?Vas a alguna parte?”

She releases me, grinning with her sparkly and honey-hazel eyes. “Yup. I’m gonna talk to the head council leader in Hollywick. We have a meeting.”

Surprised, I straighten. “That sounds important. What about?”

“I’ll tell you later. I have plans with a friend afterward, so I’ll be back later this evening. You two behave yourselves… or not. You know what? Don’t behave at all. Be reeeeally naughty.”

My body stiffens as she quickly steps into her boots, then heads out the front door. Beside me, Daniel huffs and shakes his head. Why the hell would she say that?

“We’ve decided to give you a proper welcome party on Friday,” he says coolly, pulling my suitcase toward the hallway beside the stairs. “She’s busy until then, plus, you and I have to finish putting together the furniture and cleaning at Kat and Roland’s, in addition to the winery work.”

“They’re really going to launch the safe house and clinic in two weeks? Time has gone by so quickly.”

Daniel guides me down a short hallway with a neat square window at the end that overlooks more vineyard and mountains. “ It has. We’ve been working hard. Well, most of us.” Smirking, he stops in front of a closed door.

I lift a hand to scratch the top of my head, feeling guilty. “Yeah, I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to help last week—I’ve been pretty useless, but I?—”

“Alexander,” he says firmly. Daniel dips his head to catch my attention. “I’m just joking. Don’t you know that by now?” His voice is pleading as he stares. The hallway is narrow and we’re standing too closely. Electric shivers rush up my arms and his subtle scent caresses my senses.

“I know,” I say. “I’m just nervous, I think. It’s nerves.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Because I’m unquestionably, painfully attracted to him and I know that’s the absolute last thing he’d want from me. Can I say that out loud? He’d kick me out of here so fast. It would make everything awkward and uncomfortable. For both of us.

“I don’t know, maybe switching over to the neutral source is… I’m still adjusting,” I tell him. It could be the truth? Ever since that day, when I sensed him so clearly through the muck in my mind, I can’t stop thinking about him.

Daniel is like a symphony playing over and over again in my head. A sophisticated, richly complex sonata with multiple movements and a commanding presence. Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.24 in C Minor or Beethoven’s Pathetique . Darkness and sorrow interwoven with hope and light. He’s mature with a ferocious intellect. And yet, sometimes he offers this gentle kindness that’s soft like velvet.

It's reckless to think of him this way. But I do, lately. In the same way that my eyes spontaneously alight when he touches me, I can’t help myself.

Scrutinizing me, he’s silent for several beats before he sighs. “Alright, well, let me know if I can help at all.” He nods in the direction across the hall. “The bathroom is there. We only use this bathroom if we have guests, but otherwise it’s all yours. I have my own bathroom upstairs and Leoni has hers in the master suite. ”

“Sounds good.”

“And this is your room.” Daniel turns the knob and leans against the door to open it. Inside, the first thing that grabs my attention is a colorful patch-work quilt covering the cozy-looking bed. A bedside table holds a funky antique lamp and there’s a large window with its curtains pulled aside to reveal the same spectacular view of the vineyard and snow-capped mountains.

It's modest, neat and eclectic. “I love it,” I tell him, taking everything in as I turn on a shabby threadbare and dark teal rug in the center of the room. A leafy potted plant and a row of books are set on a shelf just above a desk that’s situated in the corner near the window. I notice there’s a gift-wrapped package on top of the desk.

“Did someone leave this in here by accident?” I ask, taking hold of it and turning toward Daniel.

Casually, he sits on the old-timey trunk at the end of the bed. “No, Rabbit. That’s for you. A welcome present, from me.”

Helplessly, I smile at the nickname. “May I open it?”

“No. You should leave it in the box forever—like a time capsule. We can bury it out back together later, then open it one hundred years from now.”

“You’re such an asshole.” Snickering, I tear off the wrapping, which looks like the comics section of the local news in Seze because all the dialog bubbles are in Spanish. Setting the paper aside, I pry the flaps open. There’s something folded inside. I place the box on the desk and pull out the material. “It’s a t-shirt?”

“It is.”

I hold it up, taking it in. At first, there’s nothing but white space, but then I flip it around. When I see the graphic, I laugh. There’s a black music score printed on the front, but a cat is climbing up the staves and knocking down the notes. There’s a pile of them at the bottom of the shirt and underneath the cat where its already succeeded in ruining the music.

“This is perfect! How hilarious. ”

“I thought it suited you,” Daniel says. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s phenomenal—I didn’t bring anything to the house with me to thank you for letting me stay, that was thoughtless.”

“You don’t always have to give something just because you’ve received something,” Daniel says. “I saw it and thought of you. Simple.”

Pulling out the desk chair, I sit down with the shirt in my lap. “Well, thank you for thinking of me.” My heart feels warm from his presence and considerate gift. As I glance around the room, I exhale a sigh. “It feels like I’m following in Oliver’s footsteps. First, spending so much time at the safe house, and now I’m actually staying here for a couple weeks.”

Danny leans back with his palms behind him. Making himself comfortable. “Not what you expected?”

“No, not at all. I didn’t know what would happen after he left. At the time it was like… standing at the edge of the world above a void. Just emptiness. Purgatory.”

“And now?”

“Now it’s good,” I say, lifting and looking at the shirt once more. “Really good.”

“Do you think you’ll also leave Eden someday, like Oliver?”

Lowering the shirt, I shake my head. “Nah. Eden is my home and I love it—despite all its problems. There are too many vampires here that I care about. That’s definitely one of many things that Ollie and I didn’t have in common. The intense desire to ‘travel the world’ like fucking Gulliver.”

Daniel shakes his head. “You and these references.”

“You get them every time, though.”

“I do. But Oliver also wanted to leave because of the designer, right? The first-gen.”

“Yeah,” I scoff, failing to hide my residual bitterness. “Aries. Greek God and well-traveled fashion icon. Who can compete with that?”

Casually, Daniel picks at the small holes in the quilt atop the bed. “It’s unusual for an Eden purebred to fall in love with a first-gen vamp. To go through such lengths for someone who’s ranked beneath them.”

I shrug. “I’m not surprised. Ollie was never like that—all snooty and talking down to his servants. He got along really well with everyone. His servants even helped him escape from the dungeon.”

“What do you think about that?” Daniel asks, still playing with the holes in the quilt. “About a purebred being with a vampire that’s ranked beneath them.” His irises lift and meet mine. Waiting.

My nature flips in my stomach as we watch each other. This question feels dangerous given how I feel about him. If I’m not careful, I could reveal myself and make him extremely uncomfortable.

I look down at the shirt in my lap and swallow. “In the big picture, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it—despite what our culture says. For me personally…”

Hesitating, I bite the inside of my cheek. “I hate the word ‘beneath,’ because I don’t see ranked vampires that way. Yes, we’re fundamentally different in our blood composition, but that doesn’t necessarily make me better. And what does ‘better’ even mean? Raph is second-gen but he’s much better than me when it comes to navigating social rules and being organized. And you—you’re smarter, more mature and more talented at playing the piano than I’ll ever be. What does blood potency have to do with any of that?”

I lift my gaze and Daniel’s stare is expressionless. Insecure, I go on. “But I guess… considering I live in a society that sees me as being ‘at the top’ of the hierarchy, maybe it’s easier for me to have this kind of mentality? Because I’m freer to do so… or whatever.”

“You aren’t free, though,” Daniel observes coolly. “You can’t choose to mate with whom you please. You’re not allowed to have a garden, barely allowed to have a cat. And you have to constantly keep your whereabouts a secret to avoid conflict with your parents. I used to think that you wealthy, royal Eden purebreds had enviable lives. Meeting you has taught me that the reality is much more oppressive.”

Grinning, I straighten in my seat. “Yes, we’re terrible all the way around—with the way we treat ourselves and other vampires. You’re right to despise us.”

“I don’t despise you.”

“I know.” Taking hold of the t-shirt by its shoulders, I lift it up in jest. “You gave me this amazing shirt. I have tangible evidence now.”

“And I held your hand when you were sick,” he says, unwavering. “Do you remember that?”

I lower the shirt into my lap as my throat goes dry. My voice comes out quiet as my cheeks warm. “I remember.” As clearly as everything else, but I don’t let myself think about it.

His long and talented fingers softly curved around mine on top of the duvet. Even in my dazed state, I was in awe that he would extend such a gentle kindness to me.

Later and when I was coherent, part of me wondered if I’d imagined it. Like a wonderful hallucination. I knew better, though, because the sensation was too bright and electrified. Too powerful to be questioned.

“Your rings are gone.”

“My rings?” I say, thinking about the terrible, blue-black circles I had under my eyes when I was unwell.

Daniel leans forward, closing the short distance between us. He takes hold of my right hand against my thigh. The moment he touches me, my body tenses from head to toe and the heated swirl of my nature dances up my spine and goes straight to my fucking eyeballs. He holds my fingers as if he’s about to lead me into a dance.

“Your rings,” he says, rubbing his thumb across the ring finger of my right hand. “The gold bands are gone. You always wear two of them?”

My eyes burn like fireballs in my head and my chest is tight. I promised myself that I’d exhibit more self-control, but I am failing miserably. What’s worse, I don’t know what to do.

Running away or covering them with my free hand feels childish, so I glance off to the side. Barely able to breathe from the pressure of my aura. It feels like glittery cotton is stuffed in my chest and throat.

“I-I took them off. They’re at home.”

“Why?”

“Because they were…” I swallow, taking a breath. It doesn’t help. “It’s stupid. They were meant for me and Oliver. When we mated, I was going to give him one. I don’t know why I kept wearing them. It was a silly sentiment and… Jesus, I’m so, so sorry about this.”

“I’m used to it by now,” Daniel says. I’m not looking at him, but I can hear the smile in his calm, sensible tone. “And the thought behind your gesture is not silly. It’s romantic, I think.”

“Well, it was pointless in the end. And you shouldn’t have to get used to my eyes doing this all the time—it’s gross and I should be able to control myself.”

“Not silly, nor gross. Will you look at me?”

I close my eyes. God, I’m the worst. “It’ll wear off soon.”

“But will you, please?”

With my pulse beating hard and my eyes blazing, I open them and cautiously glance over. He’s looking back at me with that soft, patient expression that he offers more and more.

“Hello, Rabbit,” he says, smiling.

I huff in a laugh and look away again. “Hey.”

“It’s not so difficult, is it?”

Exhaling, I look back at him, keeping my nature and all its angst stifled in my gut. “Are you sure you aren’t offended by this?”

“I’m not. Your constant effort to suppress and reject this probably agitates your nature and makes it worse. Was someone else offended by it? Did someone react poorly to your eyes alighting?”

“Did Raphael tell you about that? ”

Daniel shakes his head. “He didn’t. It’s just something I sense. Am I wrong?”

With my free hand, I run my fingers through the top of my hair and massage my scalp. God, this is embarrassing. “Well… the first time my eyes alighted, Oliver and me were—I don’t know, fourteen? Fifteen? We’d been feeding from each other for years, but one day, they just sparked out of the blue.” I pause at the memory and chuckle humorlessly. “He um… did not reciprocate my feelings, to put it mildly. I’ll never forget his expression when it happened. He drew away as if my ass and my face had unexpectedly morphed and switched places.”

Still holding my hand, Daniel plasters his palm against his forehead, stifling a laugh. This time, my amusement is genuine. “You can laugh,” I say. “It’s hilarious.”

He takes a deep breath and drops his palm. He looks me square in the eyes. “Your description is hilarious but his reaction is not. When our eyes alight for the first time, the way in which another vampire responds is a pivotal moment. It colors the way we handle intimacy and trust. I’m sorry that he didn’t make you feel safe.”

The words sink in and touch my heart, but his tone is so serious that I instinctively want to lighten the mood. I shrug. “It’s alright—we were kids and he had his own reasons. I’m obviously a predator so I deserved it.”

“You are not a predator,” he says sternly. “Far from it.”

Daniel lifts my hand and urges me to spread my fingers as if he’s about to give me a high-five. I’m confused as he places his palm and fingers flush with mine. I watch, enamored by his electric energy coursing through my palm and down my arm. If I weren’t so paranoid, I’d close my eyes and let it course all through me.

“Raphael said you had a hard time with the tremolo in Beethoven’s Pathétique ?”

“Yes,” I say, quietly relieved by the sudden change in subject matter. I exhale a breath. “I did. ”

He sets his palm more firmly to mine. “It’s partially because of your hands. Spread your fingers wider?” I do what he asks. Through my glowing eyes, I see it. His fingers are longer than mine and also, the stretch of his hand between his thumb and pinky finger is wider.

“The long octave tremolos in that piece are difficult for most pianists,” he goes on. “But especially if the width of your hand and fingers is a little short.”

“Danny, are you telling me that I have small hands?”

He chuckles. “Well, yes and no. I’m mostly saying that this is why you might have needed to work harder for it. Could you trill between notes in general?”

“Yeah,” I say, contentedly looking into his eyes. “I could.”

“There you go.” He slips his fingers through the gaps in-between mine and folds them down. “It was your reach that was being challenged. Not necessarily your skill and rhythm. Your teacher never pointed this out to you?”

Cautiously, I mimic his gesture so that our fingers are clasped as he lowers them between us. I look down at our hands, amazed. “No, he didn’t.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t hurt yourself. I’ve heard of students injuring themselves on that piece.”

“Well… I’m a purebred vampire,” I say, looking up and meeting his eyes. We both grin. The moment is comfortable and I’m beside myself that we’re holding hands. My eyes are alighted and we’re laughing. It’s bizarre and…

Nice.

Really nice.

He stands from the trunk, casually squeezing my palm before letting my hand naturally fall away. “I’ll let you unpack. I made a vegetable hot pot for lunch if you’d like to eat together? If you’d rather have your blood bags?—”

“No, well… I can have both? I mean, I’d love to have lunch with you.” Slowly, my eyes burn out. I exhale a deep sigh and run my fingers through the top of my hair from the sheer relief of my nature surrendering its frustrated grip.

Daniel smiles as if he were totally unfazed by it all. “Perfect. Meet me in the kitchen whenever you’re ready?”

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes.”

He strides out of the room, unaffected. Mature and cool. A moody, beautiful symphony of a man.