Page 201 of Vampires of Eden

Everyone’s parents are here—Ashwin’s, Lady Bhaduri and hermate, and Governor Ellis and her partner. Thankfully, the crowd is cordial and I don’t sense any obvious animosity.

Roland and Kathryn are in attendance, which Danny and me are thrilled about. Even Mayor Veronica Hart and Amber have been invited.

At the end of the line, Leoni walks up looking incredible in a short dress that fits her petite frame like a dream. Raphael trails behind her, grinning and looking like he’shermanservant. I narrow my eyes. I don’t know why but I’m slightly annoyed by this.

“Do you love it?” Leoni says, greeting us with a tight embrace. “Tell me you love this.”

“Iloveit,” Danny says.

“It’s incredible,” I agree. The diversity of ranked and purebred vampires within this intimate space, amicably talking and laughing… I’ve never witnessed anything like it before in Eden.

Leoni’s eyes practically sparkle in the low lights as she smiles. “This stems from the two of you. It’s only going to get better.”

“Well, little by little,” Raphael chimes in. “Things won’t change overnight, but this is definitely a step in the right direction. I need to start looking for a new job…” Raphael’s voice cracks on the end and he turns away, falsely dabbing his eyes.

I frown. “Will you stop that?”

“You should move in with me and help run the vineyard,” Leoni says matter-of-factly. “Danny wants his own house and garden someday, so when he moves out, Puercoespín will obviously move with him, and I’ll need the help.”

Raphael perks up like a meerkat. “Really? I’d love that?—”

“Wait a fucking minute!” I protest. “Don’t stand here and make hypothetical plans right in front of me.”

“They’re right, though,” Danny says calmly. “I do want my own house. It’s been a dream of mine, and Leoni will need help with the day-to-day management of the vineyard. Aren’t you coming with me when I move? We can have privacy.”

They all stare at me as ifI’mthe one being ridiculous. I sigh. “Yeah, of course, but why are we talking about this right now?”

“Prince Alexander?” Evie, my father’s primary maidservant steps up to my side and gently taps my shoulder. “Your father and mother would like to speak privately with you and Lord Daniel. Can you spare a moment?”

My first inclination is to say no. Daniel must sense this, because he tilts his head and catches my eyes. His voice is soft and encouraging. “Alexander?”

Understanding, I nod. “Yes, sure.” Every time I start to calm down, the wasp nest of messy indignation and resentment inside of me gets kicked and swarms up again. What is it now? What the hell do we need to talk about in private? Can’t it wait?

Evie guides us back through a narrow hallway beneath the grand staircase where there are a series of doors. She stops at one and pushes it open, gesturing for us to enter. The room is small with one floor-to-ceiling window facing the south end of the forest. The perimeter of the room is lined with potted plants of all shapes and sizes. A set of couches, tufted armchairs and a coffee table are arranged before the window. The space seems like a cozy meeting room where its occupants might discuss plans over tea and scones.

My mother and father stand by the couches, watching as we enter. I feel wary and stressed as hell about whatever is happening. The last time I was alone in a room with my father and mother, it wasn’t great. Daniel casually reaches down and takes my palm into his and squeezes. It reminds me to take a breath.

“There are some particulars that we’d like to discuss, while you’re here,” my father begins. “Shall we sit?”

“I’d rather we keep this short,” I say to my father without thinking. The words pop out of me and I ignore my mother’s presence altogether to keep the tension in my chest from suffocating me. “There’s a room full of vampires waiting for us.”

Father nods, then glances at my mother. From the corner ofmy eyes, I see her take a step forward. Instinctively, I step back. I don’t meet her eyes.

“Where are you planning to live now?” she asks. “You haven’t returned home for nearly two weeks. Will you remain at the Álvarez Vineyard?”

“We haven’t decided yet,” I say flatly. “But it’s likely.”

“Won’t that hinder your responsibilities with the Royal Order in Central? Being so far away?”

“The drive isn’t bad. The meetings are only quarterly. I can handle it.”

“What about aristocracy events—parties and luncheons to maintain your presence and relationships? Poker nights and brunch with your friends?”

“Again, those are things that I’ll handle. They’re not something you need to worry?—”

“Alejandro.”

That name and the familiar roll of her tongue feels like a leash around my neck being snapped tightly. I flinch and look up like a trained animal—my anxiety spiking in my chest and throat.