Page 83 of Vampires of Eden

The downpour and this morose day. It seems ugly on the surface, but it’s good for the plants and vegetation. It helps them grow.

Scared as shit, I nod. “Okay… I’ll do it.”

Raphael smiles warmly. Hopeful, like someone’s just told him that there are freshly baked cookies in the kitchen. “Perfect. It won’t be easy to quit cold turkey like this, but you can handle it. We’ll get through this, alright?”

I hear the words, but they seem far away as I stare out the window. Already, it feels as if something inside of me is unhappy with this decision. It knows something that I don’t.

“Okay.”

When Raphael knocks on my bedroom door much later in the evening, the anxiety I felt at breakfast has doubled. Tripled. Like a heavy boulder set firmly in my chest and gut.

“Come in.”

He opens the door, beaming. A direct contrast with how I’m feeling at the moment. He’s carrying three blood bags like a kid who’s excited to show their mom a scribbly picture they’ve drawn.

“I’ve got the goods,” he says. “The blood boutique doesn’t usually hand out three different samples, but after I told them it was for you, they made an exception, of course.”

“Great,” I say flatly. I’m sitting on the edge of my bed and in my pjs as he approaches. Raphael’s plan is for me to drink the new stuff before I go to bed. This way, I’ll “sleep off” any adverse impact from suddenly switching to a new source after all these years.

I remember what Daniel said—what happened to him once he stopped feeding from Josefina. So, I doubt that it’s as easy as Raphael is predicting. Yes, I’m a purebred switching over to another purebred source, but who’s to say that will make it any better? It could be worse, for all we know.

Most vampires who feed from each other for as long as Oliverand I have end up bonded. There aren’t enough instances of my particular circumstance to predict how this will go.

I’m fucking nervous.

“Let’s try half of this one?” He holds one bag up and sets the others on my nightstand. “I’ll keep the others in the fridge to test out if this one doesn’t agree with you. We’ll see how you feel about it in the morning.” He twists off the small cap atop the bag, then hands it to me triumphantly.

Frowning, I take it in my hands, examining. “Who is this even?”

“They never disclose the identity of the donor,” Raphael explains. “If they did, there would be issues. Biases. Think about it—if you donated blood and say… Ashwin donated, too, how many more vampires would want yours over hers.”

I nod in understanding. “Fair point. Jesus Christ I hope this isn’t Ashwin. Why haven’t I donated? Should I?”

Raphael shrugs. “You could? It’s your choice. Some houses do it, some don’t. I’ve heard that Sebastian has. His handler told me about it.”

Lifting the small nozzle to my nose, I sniff. “This doesn’t smell like Sebastian.”

“It’s not Sebastian. Give it a try?”

The scent is unfamiliar and not remarkable nor pleasing. I suppose that’s the point of a “neutral source,” though. To be fed by someone I’m not emotionally stimulated by or attached to. Those things are inconvenient for an unbonded vampire whose parents are trying to marry them off to an old man.

Hesitating, I lift the bag to my lips and place the small nozzle in my mouth. I suck and the blood is warm and uninteresting to my palate. I don’t know who this purebred is, but I definitely would not be attracted to them. My fangs don’t even pulse in desire as I swallow. They’re not interested in this at all.

I do what Raph says and drink half the bag. When I’m finished, he looks at me expectantly.

“Well?” he asks.

Ishrug. “It’s fine. Very neutral.”

“That’s a good thing. It’s not supposed to be enchanting and all consuming—it’s meant to keep you fed and healthy.” He takes the bag and twists the cap back on, then gathers the other bags. “I’ll go find Buff Buff—do you want her tonight?”

“Yeah, please.” I settle back in bed, feeling strangely neutral all over my body. Numb, almost. It’s not a good feeling, but it isn’t terrible, either. Nothing like what Daniel described. He called his experience “rough” and “painful.” For me, it’s a weird, queasy sensation. As if my nature is trying to figure this out.

“Alright, I’ll be back shortly.” Raphael leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

It’s silent as I lie on my side. The lights are still on, dim and yellow.

I feel strange.