Page 69 of Vampires of Eden
Alexander stretches his spine in his squatted position. Apalpable unease and tension are settled in his visage. “It sounds horrific.”
I’m fairly certain that he’s still feeding from Oliver. Alexander would drop off bags of his own blood to the cottage when his ex-fiancé was living with us, so it’s probable that he still has a supply of Oliver’s blood.
When he decides to finally wean himself off of that stock, it won’t be pretty, but…
“The situation was much worse for me because her blood was so potent compared with mine,” I add. “I think if we’d both been purebred, perhaps I wouldn’t have been so violently ill.” This is my meager attempt to put his mind at ease without revealing what I suspect to be true.
Nodding, he sets his jaw. “Why… didn’t you ever ask Leoni to feed you? I’m sure she would have, given your friendship.”
“She offered, but I didnotwant to be addicted to and dependent upon her in that way. I didn’t want to put her or myself in that awful situation.”
“Right, okay. That makes sense. Can I ask one more question?”
“Yes.”
“Is Josefina the reason why you stopped playing the piano?”
I take a deep breath, then silently exhale through my nose. “She is.” The shame around this topic floods my chest and throat like bile, but I shake it off. I need to face this.
After my conversation in the kitchen with Leoni, the more I thought about it, in some ways, I agreed with her assessment. I don’t want Josefina to have this power over me anymore.
“I was hired to play for the Álvarez Estate,” I go on, “for dinner parties, and on a few occasions, a small and private concerto, like the one you attended with your father. Josefina took a strong interest in me and well, long story short, she wanted me all to herself. I willingly obliged. At first, anyway. But then…”
I pause and take another breath. This is the hardest part to wrestle with. The part that I don’t even confess to Leoni.
“But then?” Alexander encourages.
I continue sanding because doing something with my hands while I talk helps to ease the emotional strain. “There was definitely some manipulation of her power as a purebred over me. It became harder and harder to resist her will—as if she was drowning me in her influence and aura to keep me close. To keep me addicted to her.”
Alexander listens with rapt attention, as if he’s hanging onto my every word. His intense eyes are piercing and it creates a warm, feathery feeling in my belly.
“It’s disgusting that she used her essence that way,” he says, “for harm and for the benefit of her own selfish desires…” He looks away as if something is on his mind.
“What is it?” I ask.
Abruptly, he meets my gaze once more. “Nothing… so, why don’t you play the piano now?”
I shrug. “What piano would I play? Like you observed, there’s not one at the cottage nor anywhere I frequent. I spent so many years playing for Josefina and her tastes that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to play for myself. I would need time to figure that out. Kind of hard to do when there’s no piano around.”
Alexander nods in his absorbed state. It makes me self-conscious so I lift my chin. “You can’t talk and sand at the same time? You do everything so slowly as it is—get to work.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. Trance broken. He continues sanding. After a healthy pause where the only sound filling the room is the raspy back-and-forth of our sponges on wood, he stops once more.
“Thank you for telling me all of that.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, bending to start buffing the legs.
Casually, I glance over. He’s re-focused on his task now that I’ve scolded him. Alexander listens so intently when I speak, as if he genuinely values what I say. Whether it’s about something sensitive like Oliver and their relationship, or trivial, like myopinion on a television show. I’m amazed at how engrossed he is, every time.
It’s insufferably attractive. That I can converse with him the same way I would with Leoni, except something in his eyes stirs me. Something in his citrusy-sweet and zesty scent is alluring.
Despite my repulsive state and weakened nature, he senses me. Could that mean there’s something more? If I were healthy and strong, would he be properly attracted to me?
I stop sanding and bring my wrist to my forehead, massaging and breathing. For the love of God. I have got to stop thinking about this. There’s no way in hell he feels anythingfor me.
Maybe pity? That would make the most sense.
“I have to admit,” Alexander announces, breaking the comfortable silence. “I can’t get over the fact that you were in love with Josefina, of all vampires.”
