Page 109 of Vampires of Eden

“Have I what?”

“Pulled or been pulled?” Leoni clarifies. “Your essence.”

Daniel inhales, briefly glancing at me in an odd moment beforehe looks away. “First-gen vampires can’t experience it the same way as you purebreds do, because our vampiric essence isn’t potent enough. But we can pull it for you, obviously, and the pleasure of that—of satisfying a powerful being that you intrinsically desire and whose enchanting nature calls to you—is also, ‘like nothing else.’”

A silence rests over the table. I don’t know about Leoni, but quietly, I marvel. Daniel speaks confidently and with experience, which means he’s done this before. Likely for Josefina.

“Hey, Alexander.”

Surprised and lost in my thoughts, I glance up and meet Daniel’s milky eyes regarding me softly. His fingers brush my wrist atop the table. “Yeah?”

He smiles. “If you keep agreeing with us, you’ll never get to taste the wine.”

I have a strong urge to flip my hand and hold his, like we often do now when we’re alone. We don’t talk about it, but it just… happens. We’ll be sitting on the back porch at Kat and Roland’s and somehow, his hand will find mine as we quietly observe the woods and the sun disappearing behind the trees. Or we’ll be watching TV on the couch and I’ll take a chance and reach for his. He always accepts me. No hesitation.

It’s become this unspoken and yet completely natural behavior between us. I can’t explain it, but it feels reassuring. Like I’m floating alone in the infinite dark of the cosmos, then suddenly, I’m not. There’s another star beside me. Warm and bright and wonderful.

I don’t flip my hand over because Leoni is here, watching us like a hawk and I’ve been well-trained in resisting any kind of public displays of affection. So instead, I keep my hand still and nod. “True. I would like to taste it, at least.”

And I do taste it. I get my fill over the next few questions because I naturally disagree with everything being pulled from the basket.

“Chicken empanadas are the best fried food.” No.

“Captain Kirk is better than Picard.” A direct and personal attack. Disagree.

“Summer sucks, it’s too hot.” Also disagreed. I like summer.

I don’t stop taking sips until four additional questions later, when finally, “Arranged matings should be banned,” pops up, which I fully agree with. By this time, my brain is light and swimming inside my skull like an apple bobbing in a barrel of water. I’m laughing too much and my face is overly warm. Absolutely flushed.

I don’t even care.

“Someone is toasted,” Daniel observes, grinning with his full glass in hand. He’s given up on the rules completely, the cheeky bastard… the sexy, snarky prodigy. God, I wish he’d play the piano. I’d listen to him play anything. Chopsticks. Fucking scales. “You warned us, didn’t you?” he goes on, smiling way too much for my comfort.

Lifting a palm, I close my eyes and cover my face because my nature is churning in my groin and it’s only a matter of seconds before the madness spreads. It’s one thing if my eyes alight in front of Daniel, privately and between us. I’ll be damned if I let this shit happen in front of Leoni. “You said this was a judgement-free zone,” I remind him.

“It is. Who am I to judge? I’m a half-dead spider-vampire with muted pupils. There’s no judgement here.”

“Danny,” Leoni chides sweetly. “Stop it. You are not any of those things.”

Too abruptly, I stand and a loud clamor disrupts the general calm of the room. Yikes, I miscalculated that. My eyes aren’t burning yet, so I move my palm and peek one open. An empty bottle has fallen over along with my own empty glass.

“Oops… sorry. I-I need a minute.” The alcohol swirls within me and throws off my equilibrium, as if the room is turning on its head. I try to move from the table and end up hitting it again. More glasses fall over.

“Jesus Christ, just—hold on, man. Here.” Swiftly, Daniel is atmy side and linking my free arm into his. The nearness of him and his electric essence sets my irises ablaze behind my closed lids. I place my palm firmly over my eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

“Oh, take your time, dearies. No rush. I’ll start cleaning up. Goodnight, Puercoespííín. Sleep well.”

“Th-thanks—and thank you for the welcome party.” Daniel guides me from the kitchen and I follow blindly. When the air shifts and I can tell we’re in the living room, he slips his hand down into mine as he pulls me along.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly. “Do you feel sick?”

“Not sick, just… not grounded enough. Too light.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay to feel light sometimes.”

I groan as we enter my room. “Disagree.” It’s not okay to feel light when your nature is unruly and you have zero control. It’s a disaster for a recipe.