Page 103 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
Leoni’s house is near the mountains. We’re surrounded by them, so both symbolically and physically, I’m pushing against my pre-established and long-sustained restrictions. Her cottage is small, more utilitarian than the excessive and opulent grandeur I’m accustomed to, but I like this about it. The space feels personal. Deeply intimate.
I can grow and learn here. Something inside of me knows that this is where I need to be. This is the next step.
Leoni smirks as she listens, but when she looks past me at Alexander, her eyes are affectionate. “You’re a real sap for falling for a creature like this.”
“What’s wrong with being a sap?” Alexander asks. “There are worse things.”
She folds her arms, grinning. “Well, I can’t make this decision on my own, anyway. We’ll have to see what Danny thinks. He should be back from town any second—”
Behind us, the front door clicks open, then pushes wide. In the golden stream of afternoon sunlight, a first-generation vampire enters the room carrying a large basket full of vegetables—tomatoes, onions, broccoli. Some dark, leafy greens and sweet potatoes, just at a glance. His hair is very long but pulled back in a sleek, shiny and dark braid that reaches to the center of his shoulder blades. It falls forward like a rope as he drops the basket inside the door.
“Ah,” Leoni says, popping up from her seat and walking over to meet the new vampire. “There you are. I was just talking about you.”
“Good things, I hope?” His voice is casual and cool. Meditative. He wears a blue T-shirt with a graphic of a man looking through a pair of binoculars. The words around the image read,Oh look! Nobody gives a shit.There are dirty gardening gloves hanging over the edge of one of the large cargo pockets of his gray sweatpants.
I’m not sure why, but he’s difficult to read. His aura is muted. Almost non-existent. He’s definitely first-generation, but the energy emanating from him is so weak. It’s as if he’s barely there.
“Daniel Lim?”
I turn, and Alexander is on his feet, his golden-brown eyes wide with some expression that I don’t easily recognize. Gazing back to the door, Leoni and this Daniel vampire seem just as confused as me. He’s lean and towers over Leoni’s shorter frame.
“Do I owe you money?” Daniel says, offering a detached smile. “You said my name like I owe you money.”
“No.” Alexander steps forward, staring as if he’s in a trance. “I just… I haven’t seen you since I was eleven. My God… what’s happened to you? Are you alright? I didn’t know you were here, too.”
Alexander is visibly awestruck, but the air in the room stiffens. I don’t know Leoni and Daniel at all, but I can read the shift in both of their demeanors very clearly—especially Leoni’s. Daniel tries to play it off, narrowing his lilac-colored irises. “Who are you, exactly?” he asks.
Alexander draws back, blinking. “You don’t remember me?”
“Should I?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Danny,” Leoni cuts in, admonishing. “Stop it. I told you about this last night. Alexander is here to stash his fiancé away from his evil father.”
“Oh yes,” Daniel says. “Our runaway purebred. Fantastic. Welcome. Pleasure to meet you both.” Without waiting for a response, Daniel reclaims his basket and disappears into the kitchen. We stare after him and the unexpectedly frosty vibe he’s left behind.
Waving her hands, Leoni gestures us toward the door. “Outside, please? Let’s go outside on the porch.” Confused, me and Alexander follow her lead.
There are two wicker rocking chairs and a small matching bench situated on the porch overlooking the majesty of the vineyard, sky and mountains. Both me and Alexander step toward the chairs to take a seat, but Leoni speaks up again.
“Alright, Ollie can stay. Puercoespín, you need to leave.”
Alexander’s posture stiffens. “What did I do? What the hell was that in there?”
“Listen, it’s a long story, and Danny has a thing about purebreds. Too many of us are encroaching his space, so I’ll do you this favor and help Ollie, but you gotta go, cariño. ¿Luego hablamos?” She makes a gesture with her hand, urging him to go as quickly as possible.
“A thing about purebreds?” Alexander frowns. “You’re purebred and he’s living with you?”
“Except for me. Again, long story.”
Alexander rolls his eyes and sticks his hands into his coat pockets. “Fine. Whatever. But I have to come back with a nurse soon so that they can make feeding bags for Oliver and me.”
“Er, sure… no problem,” Leoni says, taking hold of his shoulders and physically guiding him down the steps and away from the house. “Call me and we’ll arrange it.”
Obedient, Alexander heads toward the car, but then glances over his shoulder. “Message me, Ollie, if you need anything?”
“I will, thanks,” I respond, waving. Soon, his shiny black sports car heads back toward the main road.
Leoni examines me with her manicured eyebrow raised in confusion. “Why do you two need feeding bags? Aren’t you engaged?”
