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The way she tugged on her dress and fiddled with her handbag told Edmund that she was more concerned about not physically belonging, so he uprooted that doubt before it could form.
“I’m the only vampire here—I think—and you won’t hear me saying that. They don’t have to know our lineage or financial status to invite us here. It’s our craft they like, and it’s why we are here. You see these people milling about? All walks of life, my love…Alexa. All here to have fun and appreciate art.”
She didn’t correct the term of endearment or protest to her name, putting him in an uncertain spot. But he ignored it and tugged on her elbow, trying not to ogle her form. Alexa was wearing a black dress that glittered and emphasized her shape whenever she moved, and he could tell he wasn’t the only one mesmerized. He tried not to gatekeep, understanding beauty needed to be displayed, but it was difficult when a few looks felt like the men were ready to gobble her up. He got respite when he found their host: a wealthy couple who lived a city away and had grown eager at the sight of them.
“So, you are the famous Ed with no last name and the most captivating pieces we have seen scattered all around the city. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Rossi. I have heard so much about your museums and how you value my art enough to display them, and I am eternally grateful.”
From the corner of her eye, he glimpsed Alexa smiling as if understanding what eternal meant for their kind. The couple caught the smile, and the older female tilted her head in curiosity.
“Is this who I think it is?”
Edmund nodded. “Yes. She’s the prodigy that’s going to wipe the world with her talent soon. Mr. and Mrs. Rossi, I would like for you to meet Alexa Bennett.”
“A.B.,” Mr. Rossi mused, shaking his head in amusement. “You and your mysterious names. It’s so nice to meet the woman behind the new piece that Ed sent over.”
The older male held out his hand. Just like that, Alexa snapped to attention and was shaking the couple’s hands, her nervousness and doubt no longer visible as they were replaced by a wide smile and a friendly demeanor. He watched her interact with the couple as if they were old friends, then felt pride when she started weaving a charm that entranced the couple as she explained her work and what pushed her to create it. By the time she was done, they were in a daze and enthusiastically promising that it would be displayed with the special collection.
“You never tried to charm me like that,” he accused lightly when they had wandered off.
“There’s no competing with guys like you and Billy—overflowing with it without even trying.”
“You are charming. You are very engaging and fascinating.” He glanced at the couple in the distance talking to personnel and smirked. “And you just guaranteed yourself a spot for your next few pieces.”
“Such a man with words,” she shot back. But she couldn’t hide how pleased she was, then her being antsy when she kept glancing at them, too. He tapped her elbow, then held it and steered her away. She gasped and protested, but he calmed her down with a whisper.
“Relax. Enjoy the event and stop thinking about art.”
“I thought we were here about art.”
“We can appreciate it later when the reveal is done. For now, mingle. Eat. Drink. Here.”
He plucked two wine glasses and handed her one, which she sipped at tentatively. He did the same as they made their rounds, pausing at a small stage where a woman sang some jazz while the man beside her played the piano. The woman glanced at Edmund at the end of the song and winked, so he smiled. Alexa watched the exchange, glanced around, and grew quiet. He noticed her empty glass and gestured.
“Do you want a refill?”
“I want to keep moving,” she said, not looking at him. “It will keep my nerves down.”
It was so odd that she didn’t seem nervous anymore, only broody. But he shrugged and steered her to tour the rest of the area. A few crowded parts and more fragrant scents of blood made him uncomfortable as he stuck to his wine, but she must have sensed it because, this time, it was Alexa who tugged him away and into a corner.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“It’s okay.” He shook his head. “I had my fill earlier…blood bags.” A sound flitted in his ears. “It’s starting.”
The music swelled and faded before a voiceover asked the crowd to gather in the main area. They stayed where they were, already with a view of the big screen, which opened to a camera pointed at a painting. It was panned to another, then another, the camera moving around the gallery while the guests decided to either follow or watch through the large screen. He smirked when his painting was displayed, and multiple gasps came on at his initials, then felt a hand squeezing his when hers finally came on.
A hush went over the crowd as they analyzed the piece, then noted the unknown artist’s name. The hush soon became murmurs that rippled through until Edmund could hear parts of what was being said and felt a grin tugging his mouth. He leaned close and felt her vibrations, so he squeezed her hand back.
“They like it. They like what you did.”
“They do?”
She looked up at him, enthralled. He, in the meantime, was entranced, forgetting about what he wanted to say when all he wanted to do was stay here and keep looking at her. But he gulped it down and nodded.
“Yes. They mentioned prices.”
“I don’t want it to just be about prices,” she said stubbornly. “I want there to be passion.”
