Page 6 of Vampires of Eden

It doesn’t feel like it.

She turns, then pauses at the door as she glances over her shoulder. “Stop saying you don’tfeelwell. It’s unacceptable. Move on. With Oliver gone and the arrangement annulled, Lord Cherrington is right. You have lots of free time. Let’s use it wisely.” Annoyed, she yanks the door open and glides back into the room, much to the butler’s visible dismay at not having held the door for her.

“Let’s go home.” Raphael pats me on the back. He guides me forward and out of this wretched estate.

After I’ve showered and changed into my pajamas, the sight of my four-poster bed sends a rush of relief through my entire being. I plop down on my stomach along the bottom like a man that’s been stranded at sea for an eternity and has finally reached dry land. My body sinks into the plush comforter with every deep breath as I lie with my head to the side. I close my eyes, welcoming the silence. Wishing I could drown in it.

My reprieve is short-lived, though, when there’s a soft knock at my bedroom door.

“Yes?”

The door cracks open and Raphael peeks his gingery head through the gap. “You’re already in bed? It’s eight thirty.”

“Your point?” I say, my voice muffled by the material.

He stepsinside and my fluffy calico feline is tucked underneath his right arm. “Look who I found.”

The sight of her brightens my spirit. “Buff Buff.”

Raphael sets her down and she pads in a happy trot toward the bed, then hops up. I stroke the top of her head. Buffy’s purr resonates like a tiny motorbike as she nudges her face into my palm. She opens her mouth, indulging in the affection and it sounds like she’s snoring. I love it so much.

“You young vamps these days. I’d be out partying half the night when I was your age.” Raphael sits along the edge of the bed, leaning casually with his palms resting behind him.

I scowl. “One, you didn’t have an entire, painfully conservative aristocracy breathing down your neck and watching your every move. Two, you’re only eight years older than me. Don’t give me that bullshit.”

“The world looks different once you turn thirty, my friend. Like Old Man Wisdom opens up his trench coat and flashes you with all that he has.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Speaking of old men, Lord Cherrington? Is your madre serious?”

Exhaling, I flip over onto my back and plunge my fingers into the damp length of my hair. “Myonecomplaint my whole life is how we always fix up younger vamps with the eldest, crustiest creatures in our society. Why the fuck do we do that? I do not want to be Lord Cherrington’s nimble and virile plaything.”

“Well,” Raphael considers, “the eldest and crustiest among us have usually acquired the most wealth, so they have the power to choose who they want, which, unfortunately, is never someone their own age. They desire a young and… pliable vampire that they can mold.”

I scoff. “Am I pliable?” Buffy climbs onto my chest and meows, demanding more affection as she sits down. I oblige and rub my palm along the ridge of her back.

“He sees you as a challenge—an exciting reward?” Raphaelmuses. “A wild stately horse that he wants to break and claim as his trophy. Having the future King of Eden on his arm would be the ultimate status symbol.”

“Again, disgusting. And I won’t be ‘king.’ Father has been lobbying to do away with that title for decades now. The responsibilities of the Royal Order are split. There’s no reigning sovereign.”

Raphael folds his arms. “Well, your father is a much more discreet vampire than you are. He downplays his influence on the board and spends almost all of his time and energy at the opera house and abroad. That’s left your madre and, even more so,youto be the prominent faces of Eden’s political scene. Whether you like it or not, people see you as the next king.”

Staring up at the ceiling, I exhale a heavy sigh. Everything he’s saying is true. I know this much, but… I don’t mind it. Eden needs to change, drastically, and I’m comfortable with helping to usher it into the modern era. I’m excited about it.

What I’m not comfortable with is doing it alone—or with a much older vampire that’s an arrogant pervert.

For so long, I’ve imagined that Oliver and I would do this together. Yes, we had real hurdles to overcome in our relationship, but Ireallybelieved that we could do it. That, given some time, we’d eventually meet in the middle and help change Eden for the better, hand-in-hand.

“You know that I’ve never liked Oliver for you,” Raphael declares, as if he’s capable of reading my thoughts. His ordinarily warm, cedar-wood eyes ice over the way they always do whenever he voices his opinion on this topic. “This mess is his fault.”

“It’s not,” I dispute, calmly scratching Buffy’s neck. Contented, she lifts her chin to give me better access. “We’ve been through this already.”

“We have, and I think you’re wrong. Oliver has always been self-centered. Even when you were kids, he was in his own little make-believe world and keeping to himself. He never paid attention to or meaningfully interacted with you during your arrangedmeetings. And I’ll never forgive him for the way he responded when your eyes first alighted when you were teenagers.”

Raphael casts a sharp glance down at me with his mouth pursed, waiting for me to argue. I stay silent because I don’t want to acknowledge that particularly awkward memory. It’s been a rough day as it is.

“He’s never once tried to understand you,” Raphael goes on, “and now where are we? He’s run off to explore the world without a single consequence, and you’re left alone to deal with the fallout.”