Page 129 of Vampires of Eden

Helplessly, a broad grin stretches across my face.

[I didn’t have a chance to meet Buffy when I was there before.]

[You should bring her to the cottage sometime.]

[Anyway, have fun tonight.]

[Don’t drink too much. Wait until I’m with you for that.]

[I’ll take excellent care of you. xx]

I feel as if I’ve unlocked a new verse in Daniel’s song. A hidden B-side to the elegant and rhythmic soul of him.

I kissed him and he just… liquefied. He said “yes” to my nature and softened completely like a rich, velvety butter in my hands and I was not expecting that at all.

He can be prickly as hell. I like his sharp edges and his unapologetic witticisms that catch me off guard and make me laugh. His thoughtful insights that encourage me to think and question the status quo.

This unexpected, decadent and frothy side of him is astounding. This part of him that shamelessly indulges in his sensuality.

I thought being physically intimate with him would be awkward. But this morning was strangely effortless—I’ve never done anything like that with anyone before. He rolled on top of me and everything fell into place. As if something elemental within me understood something inside of him and the two entities clicked and took charge.

And feeding from him…

My shaft hardens from the carnal and luscious memory of being cradled between his naked thighs and sinking my teeth into his flesh.

“Breathe, man. Jesus, calm down.” I pause for a second to quell my nature and body sparking from the recollection.

His blood was like an intoxicating elixir to my tongue as it flowed into and warmed me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. Black currant, woodsmoke and cherries. Cardamom with a heady swirl of autumn flowers. Alluring and hypnotic. Like nothing I’veevertasted.

Because of what I’ve been taught about intimate relationships and mating, I want some stable framing around our circumstance—like a hardcover spine that firmly holds the contents and pages of a book together. It would offer me more security in moving forward with him.

Without it, I don’t know what to call this. We agreed to go slowly, but this morning was… not slow.

A soft knock draws my attention toward the bedroom door. “Yes?” I call, slipping my arms into a blazer and shrugging it onto my shoulders. My suit for this evening is a crisp hunter green. Warm but rich. The color of a thriving forest at the precipice of nightfall. I love it. I had it tailored last summer and haven’t had a chance to wear it until now.

The banquet is formal attire. After playing in the dirt for a week at the vineyard and doing home improvement projects out in Nantshire, it feels good to be clean, properly groomed and well-tailored. Like striking some sort of balance in this new life I seem to be cultivating.

I wonder what Daniel would look like in formal-wear? Style wise, he’d be sensational in something dark. Black on black, maybe? A rich, elegant color that offsets his pale and haunting eyes.

Raphael steps inside dressed in his handsome official uniform. A royal purple blazer over tuxedo slacks. He blinks, looking me over. I wait for him to say something but his expression is unreadable. Slightly concerned.

“What is it?” I ask, turning away from the full-length mirror to face him. “What’s wrong with you?” Buffy meows at my feet as if she’s worried, too. She hasn’t left my side since I’ve returned home. Following meeverywhere, like a furry shadow.

“You have an unexpected guest,” he says cautiously. “You haven’t sensed him yet?”

I frown, then casually throw my innate senses outward to see what the hell he’s talking about. Immediately, something snags like a nail caught on the gossamer overlay of my vampiric essence.

“Oliver?” My face twists in confusion. My stomach drops as if the floor has disappeared from beneath me.

Raphael nods. “He just showed up a few minutes ago. You really didn’t notice? Not even as he approached?”

Perplexed, I bite the inside of my cheek. What the hell is he doing here? “No,” I confess. Purebreds have a keen, inborn ability to sense the approach and presence of other vampires. Everyone knows this, but… my head is filled with so much right now. Oliver is the last vampire I’d expect to show up on my doorstep.

“Well, I call that wonderful progress,” Raphael says, rocking back on the heels of his shiny wingtips and grabbing the doorknob. He pulls the door open wide, gesturing for me to exit. “Shall we see what he wants?”

My feet are rooted to the floor. Why… why would he come here? Why didn’t he call first? Something in my chest tightens and spreads like dark ink being spilled and solidifying. An old but familiar humiliation flares in my heart.

I don’t want to see him.