Page 165 of Vampires of Eden

“I am.”

He takes a breath. “They have lots of options here. Do you have a taste for anything?”

I squeeze his palm. “You.”

This thwarts him from his attempted composure and he blinks. Terrible timing on my part, perhaps. But he’s beenavoiding this topic. It never seems to be a good time, so why not now?

“You keep feeding from me,” I say softly, diplomatically, “so when will I have the opportunity to feed from you, your highness? When will you give me consent?” Vampire formalities say that I shouldn’t ask him this question. Eden specific formalities say that my asking a purebred prince this question is grounds for banishment or some other severe punishment.

Damn all of that. He’s bitten me three times and I’m carrying his scent.

Alexander swallows so hard his Adam’s apple bounces in the delicious length of his throat. “Can we talk about this later? Raphael is coming this way and… clearly, I need to pay closer attention to vampires’ movements in this fucking restaurant.”

This isn’t the answer I want. I’m sick of us being interrupted, but I nod and grip his hand in reassurance. “We’ll talk Sunday?”

He nods and swallows again before turning to reach for the menu with his free hand.

“Sunday.”

CHAPTER 39

Alexander

The early morning sky is the color of slate when I arrive at the safe house in Nantshire. The air is misty and damp with microscopic flecks or rain that seem to float in every direction. Like their own chaotic cloud of activity.

The grand opening is busy. Much busier than Roland, Kathryn, Danny or me were anticipating. Not only is there a line at the door to get inside—which Danny and Leoni are currently managing while Roland gives indoor tours—but there are also a couple of news vans with reporters from local media outlets covering the event.

Eden’s first ranked-vampire safe house and blood clinic is a huge deal. It feels like we’ve just opened a highly anticipated café or club.

“They’ll offer donated blood packs here on site, only,” I explain. “There’s no plan for external wide-distribution at the moment—because of concerns surrounding ethical disposal. Making sure the blood bags are properly recycled post use.” The second-gen woman standing in front of me nods with rapt attention. I’m stationed at the registration table with Kathryn, taking down contact information and answering questions. “There’s also concern over profiteering and misuse ofdonated blood.”

We already have a wait list for donations, feeding and housing requests. It’s insane. The clinic has only been open for two hours.

“Okay, yes, understood,” the woman says, picking up one of the brochures and information packets placed in front of me. “I really hope they look into blood shipping and distribution in the future. I came here all the way from the south coast—maybe someone will open a clinic there?”

I shrug because I genuinely have no clue. “We can only hope?”

She beams. “Yes, for sure. Thank you, Prince Alexander. It-it’s so nice to have met you.”

“You too.”

She waves, then scurries past the controlled line of vampires waiting to speak with me or Kathryn. The next two vampires in line approach me and I’m surprised to see that the first-gen woman is cradling a professional video camera under her arm. The other, a purebred male, smiles at me with that practiced harmlessness that screams “reporter.”

“Your highness.” The man bows in reverence before popping back upright. The woman with the camera behind him nods politely. “I’m Reginald Vern from theCentral Eden Courier and News. This is my camerawoman, Rema. What an interesting event this is—and to haveyouhere in attendance and supporting the cause. Truly remarkable!”

No direct question has been asked so I smile politely. “This safe house will provide an important resource that I’m proud to support.”

“Can I quote you on that?” he asks, wrestling a notepad and pen from within his messenger bag.

“You can. But there are other vampires in line who need to register for services. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have once the line dies down.”

Reginald blinks and turns around as if he’s suddenly surprised that there’s a long line of vampires behind him. “Right—yes, of course. Do you mind if we shoot some footage of you talking with the other vampires? And around the safe house, as well.”

This guy gives me a weird vibe. The focus and attention should be on the safe house being the first of its kind in Eden—not on me. When we talk later, I’ll make it a point to redirect any of his questions back to the primary cause. “I don’t mind if Kathryn doesn’t?” I say, glancing over at her beside me and keeping my face neutral.

“I’m okay with it,” she says, busy writing something down for the vampire in front of her. “Sounds great. The more coverage, the better!”

Fundamentally, I know she’s right, but with how busy we are… Can this one house and clinic reasonably handle this level of demand?