Page 66 of Vampires of Eden
“Don’t do this, Alejandro,” she scolds. “Don’t use this mess with Oliver as an excuse to start grossly fixating on some washed-up, first-gen vampire who doesn’t even exercise his primary skill anymore. I’m so very repulsed by this conversation. I’d like to move on, please? Not another word.”
Father clears his throat, then asks me how the proposal for the board is coming along. To which, I don’t have a satisfying answer, since I haven’t thought about it at all.
My parents are like night and day. Ansväd Kendrick is a music and arts aficionado first and foremost. None of the other bullshit about vampire ranks and houses matters. I know this about him, so I also knew that he’d be excited to hear about Daniel.
Victoria, though? My mother wholly subscribes to Eden’s snooty and classist culture. Purebreds are the ruling class. Anyone else exists on a level far beneath our magnitude. Period.
I disagree with her. Similar to other Eden purebreds born in her generation, it’s as if she has no concept of the outside world and other aristocracies. Communities where vampires thrive and interact freely, regardless of their rank or “nobility.” Most have done away with royal titles altogether. In Eden, we’re still holding onto them with a bloody and bruised fist.
Underneath the glittery façades and superficial interactions, it only serves to make everyone miserable.
More and more, I’m beginning to understand why Oliver hated this place and why he wanted out. I didn’t get it before, but lately, I do.
I think, in some important ways at least, I have Daniel to thank for that.
CHAPTER 16
Daniel
On Sunday mornings, I wake up early. This particular morning is radiant with the sunlight streaming through the windows of my bedroom and pouring over my bed like melted butter. The rain has finally ceased. My health is still dubious, but I want to take advantage of this day. I’ll go slowly.
After I make a quick visit to the ensuite bathroom to tie my hair up and quickly brush my teeth, I head back into my bedroom and roll out my yoga mat.
The sun is warm on my body as I stretch and focus inward. Clearing my mind and breathing. I start with several standing poses—mountain, warrior and triangle before I shift into crescent lunge, then down to a spinal twist. If I’m feeling up for it, I’ll challenge myself with a warrior three or dancer’s pose.
In the early days, Josefina would tell me that I had the body and grace of a dancer. Long, tastefully sculpted legs and arms. A strong back and slender torso. She’d trace the lines of my body and whisper sweetly that I was the most gorgeous and alluring vampire she had ever met. I was mesmerized by her adoring attention and affection.
In the end, when she tired of me and becameengaged to a purebred from the south, I was relegated to a “sickly sad sack of bones.” She’d tell me that I looked like the walking dead. A shameful creature that she barely wanted to cast her gaze upon.
Sitting down in lotus position, I close my eyes and let those thoughts drop. They’re unproductive. When I used to fixate on them, it made me miserable. Believing her words. Beating myself up for the choices I made when I was younger—feeling irresponsible and ashamed. I’ve been there. I’m done with it.
I’m not that vampire anymore.
After doing a few more sitting poses, I roll my yoga mat up and set it back at the end of my bed. I’m looking forward to warmer days when I can do this routine outside.
The next stop is the kitchen for a cup of tea and a humble breakfast, then I need to water all my plants and spend some time in the garden. My turnips are growing out of control. Pulling those should be a fairly easy task. I have to get that done today.
When I step into the brightly lit kitchen, Leoni stands at the counter. The waxy, heart-shaped leaves and vines of the overgrown pathos plant hanging above the window are like a frame around her body as she turns to look at me, smiling.
“Morning.”
“Good morning,” I say. I take a deep breath, filling my nostrils. “You’re having tea?” The air is earthy but laced with the sweet light liquoring of Ceylon tea leaves, bergamot orange and a hint of lemon. Earl Gray green tea. My absolute favorite.
“I am,” she says. “I figured you’d want some so I made a pot. It’s good to take a break from coffee, occasionally.” Stepping up to the counter, I peek over and notice that she’s cutting up one of the apples that Alexander brought us yesterday.
“Are you feeling stronger this morning?” she asks.
“I am. I slept well. Do you want to do some work in the vineyard today?”
With her sliced apples and a piece of buttered and toasted ciabatta bread on a small plate, she moves over to the round kitchen table where her tea cup is already waiting. “Maybe later inthe afternoon once the sun has dried things out more. But not you, cariño. I’m glad you feel better, but don’t overdo it today.”
After I’ve poured my tea, I head toward the table. “We’re going to need a lot of help once the weather is warmer.”
She sighs. “I know, I know.”
“Let’s hire staff and manage the vineyard properly.”
She shakes her head. “No, Danny. It’s asking too much of you—you already financially support Kat and Roland. It’ll be burdensome to take on the vineyard as well.”
