Page 151 of Vampires of Eden
“Great! Just set the tray outside when you’re finished and I’ll take it back downstairs—Oh! And the almond and oliveoil, too. Chef is asking about it. Lord Ansväd should be here within the next thirty minutes.”
When I sense him moving away from the door, I exhale a sigh. Raphael’s timing is always shit. “The vineyard cottage is better. Privacy.”
“Mm.”
“Why is everyone in your estate being so nonchalant about this? About me?” I wasn’t expecting this. The vampire that let me into the estate when I arrived yesterday was very polite. I even met a sous chef while I was waiting in the sitting room and he was nice and smiley as well. I sense no malice from these vampires.
What’s going on? What am I missing here?
Alexander drops his hands in a huff. His face is flushed and rosy and his hair is in a state of chaos. “It’s a long story.”
I lean and kiss his lips. “Tell me?”
He exhales. “I will, soon. I promise. We need to get dressed and I desperately need the next thirty minutes to calm the fuck down.”
The sweater I threw on in my haste to come here is gray and cable knit. Dark jeans. Not shabby, but not particularly impressive, either. Definitely not something I’d wear if I had known in advance that I’d be meeting the figurative and current King of Eden.
I mentioned this to Alexander and he immediately offered up his closet full of chic and luxurious clothing. But I’ll be damned if I meet his father while also wearing his clothes. It’s bad enough that I might be carrying Alexander’s scent because he’s fed from me twice and I’ve been rolling around in his bed.
God, this has danger written all over it.
We’re standing in the reception area by the front door. A kind of high-ceilinged foyer with a modern light fixture and elegantly painted walls. Beside me, Alexander is also casual in a sweater, but his is patterned and layered over a crisp button-down shirt. Eachshoulder dons a handsome swatch of what looks like tawny suede. His buttery mane is neatly swept back and freshly washed.
He looks princely and expensive again. As if he wasn’t a trembling mess just twenty minutes ago because I was desperately (successfully?) trying to fuck him.
It has not escaped my attention that he never answered my questions. He did not give me consent. He didn’t say no, either, but his lack of an answer is apparent. We simply got off the bed and started getting ready. There wasn’t time for anything else.
“I’m not trying to be cheeky,” I say, reaching up and lightly touching his shoulder, “but does the vegan vampire know that suede is made from animal hide?”
Alexander reaches up, takes hold of my fingers and kisses my knuckles. “It’s faux.”
We’re alone. Raphael was with us but stepped outside the door where a few other servants are waiting. Alexander holds my hand and entwines his fingers with mine at our sides.
“Ah, so he’s thorough about this ‘being kind to animals’ thing,” I snark. “My sweet prince is dedicated to the cause.”
Alexander turns his head, regarding me with his striking eyes. “Yes, when I care about something or someone, Daniel, I’m exceptionally dedicated.” His stare is unflinching as a gentle stillness falls over us. A capsuled moment in time, as if we’re both set in resin.
I swallow hard from his sudden intensity, but then I’m snapped out of the moment when the front door flies open. Instinctively, I snatch my hand from within his and slip both behind my back, then straighten my shoulders. Here goes. Alexander looks me over, but doesn’t say anything before turning his attention toward the door.
Lord Ansväd Kendrick is a brick-wall of a vampire. Square-shouldered, broad and solid. What he lacks in vertical height he makes up for in presence and atmosphere. Something about the air around him is calm. Easy. The length of his trench coat floats around his calves as he strides toward us and his attire iscasual but distinguished. These Kendrick men really like to layer their outfits.
“I was informed that we had a special guest?” Ansväd says by way of greeting. His voice is strong but warm as he smiles. I can see the handsome elements he’s passed onto his son. His straight nose and sculpted jaw. The deep set of his eyes. Ansväd’s hair is ice blonde, though. Long and smoothly pulled back into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck.
“Yes, Father. Welcome home.” Alexander steps forward and Ansväd lifts his hands, cradles Alexander’s head and places an affectionate kiss on his son’s forehead. The gesture is so natural and unawkward that it must be routine. I don’t know why but I’m touched by this.
“Do you remember Daniel Lim?” Alexander turns, gesturing toward me.
Ansväd nods, openly pleased. “How could any of us in this household ever deign to forget Daniel Lim? Would you allow it?”
I’m confused by my full name being repeated like I’m someone famous or noteworthy, but Alexander chuckles. His cheeks redden as he grins and rubs the back of his neck.
Not knowing what else to do, I offer what I assume is an appropriate bow for a figurehead king. “Your highness, it’s a pleasure to see you again—please forgive me for the rude intrusion.”
A tall, elegant-looking purebred woman steps up behind Ansväd and urges him to remove his coat. He shrugs out of it and glances over his shoulder before turning back to me. “Gravvis, Evie. You are welcome here, Daniel. May I call you Daniel?”
“Yes, of course, your grace.”
“Wonderful. Daniel, this is Evie, my primary maidservant—Evie, this is Daniel Lim.”
