Page 31 of Vampires of Eden

He freezes. Hesitating. Did he hear me? I roll my eyes. “Never mind?—”

“A-alright, but… can you push it down the ramp, first? I’ll get the other end once it’s down here.”

Nodding, I do just that. Once the mattress is flat on the ground, Daniel walks over to the opposite side. “Do you mind if I go backward up the steps?”

“No,” I say. “That’s fine.”

He crouches down, carefully positioning his long fingers underneath the plastic and gripping the edge of the bed. “On three?” he asks.

I mimic his squat on the opposite side. “Yup.”

He takes a visible breath and nods. “One-two-three?—”

Smoothly, we both stand. My end is solid, but the mattress falters on his end. “Do you have it?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, breathy and obviously strained. “Come on.” I feel a slight tug, then carefully step forward so that I don’t shift the weight of the mattress and push him down. He doesn’t seem stable at all, but we make progress toward the porch steps.

When he ascends, the weight of the mattress shifts mostly tome, which is fine because it isn’t heavy at all. This arrangement works because at the front, Daniel keeps the mass from tipping. I carry the load, but he steers us in the desired direction.

Once we’re in the foyer, the weight evens out again and the mattress dips on Daniel’s end. “Should we take a break?”

“No, let’s keep going,” he says, moving backward up the first step and alternating the heft to my side once more. Footsteps approach, telling me that Kathryn and Roland are making their way down. The stairway is wide enough for them to pass, so I’m not too worried about it. But there’s a sense of panic in Kathryn’s voice as she meets us.

“Danny—we said you should just get the small stuff,” she explains, slowing beside him. “Are you alright?”

“I’mfineKathryn,” he says, still climbing. “I’ve got it.” There’s an exasperated bite in his response. Whether it’s because he’s tired from our efforts or he’s annoyed about something, I’m not sure.

“I can take over,” Roland says.

“I’ve got it,” Daniel assures him, resolute. After exchanging a curious look, the couple heads past us and down the steps.

Weird.

When we reach the landing for the second floor, I make an executive decision. “We can put it down. I’ll slide it the rest of the way.”

“It could still tip over,” he says, straining. “I’ll help guide you. Let’s put it down on three. One-two-three.” We both crouch again, gently letting it drop to the floor. Daniel stands and his pale skin is dewy with sweat. He lifts his arms to take hold of the mattress edge and his hands visibly tremble.

I don’t say anything because he pulls, so I push. Eventually, we make it to the room and set the mattress off to the side and just behind the door. The moment we do, Daniel crumbles onto the floor beside it with his back against the wall. I try not to stare as he seemingly gasps for breath and unzips and removes his ugly parka.

“Do you want water?” I ask, not knowing what elseto offer. “Or a towel?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a ranked vampire sweat like this.

“No, thank you,” he says in-between deep breaths. “I’ll meet you all downstairs in a minute.” He’s wearing a dark blue sweatshirt, but he sits up from the wall and pulls it off and over his head. Soon, he only has on a white graphic t-shirt. A sketched dinosaur is printed in the center and holding a tea cup and saucer while wearing a monocle and top hat. Beneath the image are the words, “Tea-Rex.”

Under normal circumstances, I would laugh and compliment this shirt. But as I take in his too skinny arms, flushed skin and obvious exhaustion, I simply nod and turn toward the door.

Clearly, something has happened to this vampire. There’s no way in hell a first-gen should be this winded after carrying a mattress up a single flight of steps.

It’s none of my business, though, so I’ll leave him to his own devices.

“Alexander.”

In the threshold between the bedroom and the hallway, I stop, surprised to hear my name coming out of his mouth. That weird electric spidery feeling bristles my shoulders. “Yes?”

Exhaling a breath, he lifts his head. “I… I apologize. For what I said to you.”

I frown. “Which time?” Berating me for working too slowly? Calling me arrogant and pathetic? The rude comments about Oliver? There’s a laundry list at this point.

He grins, mischievous. “Every time?”