Page 7 of Vampires of Eden: Oliver
I force a genial smile and bow while the two older vampires greet each other in boisterous approval, embracing warmly. Alexander grins at me with his perfect teeth, openly pleased, as if there’s a television camera filming all of this.
“Master Oliver Blakeley—how wonderful to see you again!” Lord Kendrick releases my father and comes over to shake my hand with both of his.
I bow politely while gripping his palms. “Hello, your highness. It’s a pleasure to see you as well.”
He stands back, lightheartedly assessing. “Have you grown even taller since the last time we met?”
I… definitely have not. This feels like a running joke between us and he says it to me every time. Whether he’s being antagonistic or not, I can’t discern. I shrug, smiling nervously. “Maybe?”
“Hm, are you working on any more scathing articles or posts? It seems as if there’s always something interesting brewing in that clever head of yours.”
“He is not, I assure you.” Lord Blakeley pats our guest on the back. His tone is light, but there’s a hard edge in his expression that’s unmistakable. “Oliver’s attention is centered on the upcoming ceremony and subsequent mating rituals. I was delighted to see Alexander expressing his enthusiasm in the news.”
Alexander’s gaze is cast down to his expensive oxfords. But then, he lifts his golden, maple-brown eyes demurely. “We’ve been waiting fifteen years for this event. I’m thrilled that Oliver and I can finally be together. I’m ready to be bonded with him.”
Distressed, flustered, I squeeze my clasped hands as I hold them in front of me. Both lords nod approvingly at the mushy and resolute statement.
Suddenly, everyone’s focus is on me. Like we’re acting in a stage play and I’ve missed my line. “M-me too. I’m very excited.”
Lord Blakeley narrows his eyes in disapproval for a split second, and I realize that I’ve stammered again. God. I’m already screwing this up.
There is an entity, a rare space phenomenon where no electromagnetic radiation, matter or substance of any kind can escape from it. It is called a black hole. At this precise moment, I sincerely wish that one would open up in the center of my chest, then proceed to suck me into it, wholly and completely, so that I no longer exist.
Lord Kendrick smiles warmly, breezing past my awkwardness. “Shall we allow our young vampires some time alone in preparation for the first ritual tonight?”
Lord Blakeley’s disapproving look is still in place as he regards me. “Of course. Oliver, I trust you will make certain that our guest is comfortable?”
“Yes, Lord Blakeley.” When the two older vampires have gone and the door is closed, I gesture toward a tufted armchair. “Um, please make yourself com—”
Alexander plops down in a huff, then leans back and contentedly gaps his long legs. “God, we’re finally alone! No goddamn supervision or cranky, strict vampires hovering over us. It’s taken forever to get here, yeah?” He stares brightly, as if we’re old pals. But I’ve missed that memo. I was absent during an entire hypothetical stretch of meaningful interactions that led us to this level of candor.
Not knowing how to respond, I slowly sink down into my armchair. A small round end table sits between us with a tray of tea, sugar and milk. Silently, I pick up the tea pot and pour.
Looking me over, he scoffs, grinning. “You haven’t changed at all through the years. Still uptight. Still a big nerd. It’s a relief though, honestly. I’m really glad… And your eyes have gotten even prettier—like the skies above a clear, placid lake. And those lips? Perfectly kissable.”
I set the teacup and saucer over to his side of the table, intentionally breathing to stop my hands from trembling so I don’t spill. If I make a mess in front of Alexander and Lord Blakeley finds out about it, I’ll be scolded all night. Maybe for eternity.
“I’ve always had this image of you, Ollie,” he says, charging on with his monologue. He casually runs his fingers up and through the swoop of his stylishly coiffed hair “Do you know what you’re like? A wild horse. A small one, though, since you’re not very tall. Anyway, you had so much to say when we first met—I mean, you wouldnotshut up. And I thought to myself, ‘Ah, they’ll try to break this one. He’s too independent. Too many thoughts in his head.’”
Alexander taps his temple with two fingers, as if he needs to clarify anatomically where the head and brain are located. “But then you posted those smashing photos at Evanshire and I exhaled in relief. Seems they haven’t broken my little pony yet. Thank goodness!”
He nods to himself, satisfied, so I pick up my tea and take a sip. After a moment, though, Alexander leans over the arm of the chair. “You’re not going to say anything to me? We’re finally alone together.”
I swallow, breathe, and speak slowly. “There’s milk and sugar on the tray, if you like.”
“C’mon, Ollie. Drop the façade already andtalkto me—we don’t have to be perfectly behaved anymore! After all these years,we haven’t got a single chaperone or housemaid, butler, guard or nanny hovering over us. We don’t need to be on our best ‘purebred prince’ behavior right now.”
We stare at each other in an awkward moment. His face is full of expectancy and I… I don’t know what he wants me to say? My initial thought is that “we” aren’t a prince.Heis. Maybe this situation is a breezy joke for him, because his privilege and status at the top of the purebred vampire food chain allow for that.
For me, though? It’s a nightmare. It always has been.
“What would you like me to say… when you’ve called me an uptight, short nerd horse within five minutes of us being alone together?” I ask honestly.
He laughs loudly, rocking back into his chair. “It’s just jokes, my love. I don’t mean anything by it! What did your father do to you after that article dropped in theMetro Press, and with your photographs? Your social media account disappeared afterward. Did he make you delete it?”
I don’t care much for social media, but we have been strongly advised by our PR representatives that it’s a good way to make our family seem more “relatable” given the upcoming ceremonies.
I live isolated in a stone tower within a centuries-old castle with one hundred acres of land, its own river and lavender field. What’s “relatable” about that?
