Page 130 of Vampires of Eden

“Alexander.”

The weight of Raphael’s voice snaps me back into focus. I meet his eyes and his expression is stern. “Let’s end this.”

I balk. “What are you talking about? It already ended—it ended months ago!”

He shakes his head. “I thought so too. But your reaction is showing me otherwise. Whatever you’re still carrying around for this vampire, let’s go set it down. Right now.”

Sighing, I close my eyes and rest a palm on my forehead. I can’t believe he’s here. “It’s not that simple.”

“It can be.”

My hand falls from my face and to my side like dead weight. We stare at each other. A moment ago, I felt lofty and hopeful. Now, everything churns darkly. Reminders of a past I’d rather bury and forget flood my mind.

I force my feet to step toward the open door. Buffy trots along beside me.

“You alright?” Raphael asks as I stalk past.

“No.” I walk into the hall, down the main stairs and in the direction of the sitting room where we welcome and greet guests. Raph trails behind.

“You know that Phil Collins song where he talks about how if he saw that guy drowning, he wouldn’t lend a hand? I always think of Oliver during that verse.”

I stop at the double doors and take another breath. “I know we need to leave soon,” I say, then swallow hard. “I won’t be long.”

Raphael nods once. “Okay... but do you know that song? I think it’sIn the Air?—”

“I know it, Raph.” For fucks sake.

He bends down, then lifts and cradles Buffy under his arm so that she doesn’t follow me inside. She meows inprotest.

My hand trembles as I hold the handle. Oliver’s sweet and flowery scent is clear to me now, even through the door. Reminding me of restrained meetings and stolen glances.

Years and years of hope, wasted. Countless dinners, banquets and outings with expectant eyes watching us. Promises made and shattered. His hand in mine, lifeless, limp and disinclined. Disgusted. His gaze looking everywhere else but at me. The painful burn and longing of wanting him toseeme, just once. To try.

“Lexie.”

“Go,” I say quietly. “I’ll meet you at the car.” I press the handle, stuff the emotions down and step inside the room. I close the door behind me.

The sky is blanketed with rain clouds. It casts the room in a silver muted light that beams through the windows. A world washed in gray. Oliver had been sitting on the tufted sofa, but upon my entering, he pops up from his seat.

His eyes are the same bright ethereal blue like a rare gemstone. His hair is the same flop of cinnamon-brown, always a little unkempt, as if he’s run his fingers through it from stress one-too many times. I used to think this trait was cute. A little sexy.

Now, I wonder if he has a genuine aversion to brushes and combs.

Something in his stature reads differently. Taller. Oliver isn’t short. He’s shorter than me by a few inches, but when he was inside the castle and under his father’s thumb, he was always hunching. Curving his shoulders and bowing his head, as if to make himself smaller. Less noticeable.

He’s not doing that now. He stands straighter, naturally, and with his chin lifted just slightly. “Hi, Alexander.”

I stop several feet away, wrestling with the magnitude and strangeness of his presence. Stifling the heavy feelings and confusion. “Hey…” I say tentatively. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles, rueful. “It’s nice to see you, too?”

I’m not sure if it’s nice to see him. It doesn’t feel particularly “nice,” so I’m not going to stand here and lie. “Well, Oliver, we went through a lot to get yououtof Eden, so you being back here suddenly and only after a few months feels counterproductive.”

“I know,” he says. “You’re right. But I didn’t realize exactly how much you sacrificed to get me out. Not until after I left and Sasha told me about all the rumors.” He takes a tentative step forward, examining me. “You gave your entire dowry to Lord Blakeley in exchange for my paperwork? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I sigh, trying to expel the heavy tension in my shoulders.

Useless.