Blood Juniper A Vampire Tale - Volume 1 Chapter 37 Wolves And Sheep Part 1

I blink rapidly in bewilderment as I gawk at her. She doesn’t appear to be joking.

“But how! Are you saying no one turned you? Well then how did you become-”

She gives me an honest shrug, a smooth and feline movement from her joints, “I’m not certain on how I came to be, but I know I was reborn. Mysteriously, it was not a physical bite from another that brought me back from the grave.”

“You’re serious,” I stand rigid in disbelief before fidgeting uncomfortably, “You didn’t sell your soul to the devil, did you?”

“The devil,” she mutters, chuckling heartily, “It wouldn’t be a surprise if high powers were at work. Who am I to doubt Gods and Devils?” she pauses, seeming to recollect, “It all comes down to fate, I suppose.”

*Fate.* The word rings clear into the night.

“That makes you the head of our bloodline, like the Eve or Mother.”

Her keen eyes flash as they examine me, “The head of a bloodline. A first blood,” her voice is very far away as she stares at the space beyond me, “That’s very radical claim. Some may dislike you saying such things.”

“Oh, like the Thorn?” I ask without thinking. If she’s the start of a bloodline she could be a Thorn.

“Yes the Thorn,” she frowns, “They would not enjoy hearing about a supposed first blood that’s not among their ranks.”

A host of negative emotions swirl around her. So she’s not apart of them, though she seems to have some history with the Thorn. Bad blood from the looks of it, no pun intended.

I draw focus away from the Thorn. I don’t know how much that topic upsets her and I don’t want to find out, “Well shoot, I keep having this problem and Sam thought it was bloodline related.”

Her eyes narrow as her iris spill out an unhindered curiosity, “And what might that problem be?”

I fold my arms, leaning against a splittery telephone pole as I purse my lips. ‘Should I tell her?’

She waits patiently for my decision. She’s been very forthcoming with information. In fact, this is the least irritating experience with June to date. Might as well reciprocate, “I have been randomly blacking out after I feed. The thought was drugs were infecting their bloodstream but now that theory has kind of fallen apart.”

I meet her gaze with a bit of a shock as they are focused staring down into mine questionly, “Do those particulars happen to have a queer fragrance?”

My shock intensifies, she may actually have the answers, “Yes! Do you know what’s causing that?”

“How very interesting, I never gave it a second thought,” she says quietly, contemplating, “It’s probably garlic.”

It…was! That’s what that smell and taste were! But how could I forget what garlic tasted like? I used to love cooking with garlic… Oh, that’s why. It didn’t smell like good cooking anymore, it smells like a warning to stay away. I want to smack my own forehead for not putting two and two together sooner. There are vampire legends about garlic for crying out loud!

She observes my epiphany with a nod.

“Yes, I never took into consideration it might affect you, also. You are my first intended turn after all and I have no known bloodline,” she stares down with fingers delicately curled at her chin. Nimbly pacing as if discussing this with herself, “But I’ve learned garlic, among some other less common herbs, when consumed or forcefully injected, will cause great delirium and fatigue. Or with enough I’ll fall into a deep stupor.”

“Um, wow, ok. What are the other herbs?”

“They’re not very common but a few are surprisingly potent. Wild rose, millet, hawthorn, wolfsbane and juniper,” she grins slightly at the last one, “Hammond believed I branched closely with Vanquisher’s.”

“Ok, I don’t know what you’re talking about with Hammond or Vanquisher’s, but what can I do to avoid all of that?”

“Garlic is definitely the most common in a mortal’s bloodstream so I’d recommend steering clear of Italians,” she gives me a cheeky smirk as I roll my eyes at her joke, “Unless you desire a strong sedative, of course.”

“As for the other, Vanquisher’s are a physically powered bloodline and they also suffer from the same herbs, but their plight is proximity, often repelled and the effect is a paralysis. It’s similar but not quite identical. And Hammond, he’s an old friend.”

I feel a tinge of sadness from her at the mention of his name though her expression shows no signs of grief, she only stares up as if to observe a bird flying by.

She explains further, “Pay attention and you should come to recognize the scent and taste of poison herbs. Our sense of smell is our most loyal indicator of truth. You can smell danger, intentions and a whole assortment of helpful information.”

Smell danger and intentions? That idea seems very out there. But then again, it isn’t the craziest thing I’ve heard in the past week.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to get some straight answers Even if the answers are really strange,” she gives me a closed mouth simper and I continue, “Is there anything else you can think of that might affect me?”

Her hand floats gracefully to her mouth as she develves into thought, “Hmm, have you gazed upon your own reflection by chance?”

“Yes, I have and it was terrifying! What the hell was that all about?”

“Remarkable, so you’ve seen it?” there’s a mark of undeniable fastinasion spread along her face as she examines me, “Well, can’t say what it is, only that I tend to Lose myself when dwelling on my reflection.”

“Lose yourself?”

She stares into space with a very haunted look that gives me the chills, “Yes Lose myself, lose time, lose control.” she blinks away the disturbed expression staring back at me, “Just be careful not to get trapped in your own reflection, the gateway must be our eyes.”

Now I’m creeped out beyond belief. An eerie sinking feeling burrows into my chest like the time I wandered inside a “haunted” abandoned house on a dare. I ran out screaming like a maniac because for a split second I was certain spirits knocked some pictures off the walls. Beyond spooky, I don’t ever want to look into a mirror again!

“Ashlen, I advise you keep everything we’ve discussed tonight to yourself,” I study her now solemn expression, “I wouldn’t divulge this information with anyone, including your friend.”

I argue, “I can trust Sam, he’d never hurt me.”

“He’s very capable of it. You shouldn’t trust anyone.”

I scoff, “Oh, I can’t trust anyone but *you*, is that it?”

She shakes her head, “No one. That includes me.”

I blink bewildered by her response. Is that a warning? Should I be running right now?

She urges, “If you want to survive, trust only yourself.”

“Juniper, that’s no way to live. That’s insane.”

“You’re not going to be living for very long if you put your trust in the wrong people,” her words are cold. I recognize this intimidating side of her, “Those who survive put themselves first no matter the cost.”

Great, scary Juniper is back. June the impaler, destroyer of worlds, heads on pikes everywhere How do I get the human June back, please?

I glance over to the mysterious man. He’s now kneeling beside the truck fiddling with a camera on a tripod that I didn’t notice earlier. He must have been taking long exposure shots of lightning. I remember taking those kind of photographs for an art class years ago.

“Really! You can’t trust me June? I know you can feel my emotions, so how the hell could I even betray you?” I point to the man that seems to have some significant effect on her, “What about him, can you not trust him either?”

It was a shot in the dark, for all I know it was a terrible example and she’d say, ‘He’s a vampire hunter.’ Or something equally as ridiculous.

But the ice melts away as she looks upon the man and familiar blue wings flutter to mark that heartbreaking sadness. I wish I understood June better. I wish I could comfort her, but she can be so terrifying and cold, unpredictably so.

Was it stupid for me to care about her, did it even make sense? Most likely stupid and it didn’t make sense at all, especially after she warned me not to trust her. Who does that? No, really, *who* does that? Is she trying to protect me in some backwards sense of the word? Maybe, I’m looking to deeply into this. Maybe the answer is; ‘She’s bad news, get the hell out while you still can!’

I guess I’m not that smart. I don’t think I can run from her, leave her. Sadly, it probably doesn’t matter what I do, because I don’t think she’ll ever let me in.

I sigh, examining June in her dark hoodie, it almost made her look harmless. Like a normal, sweet and stunning girl. This guy seems to tame her generally savage aura.

I bite my lip debating if I should ask about the mystery man. She’ll probably go back to being cryptic.

What do I have to lose? My decent mood, my head? Not such a big deal, I guess, “June, who is that guy?”

She shifts her attention to me silently then glances back at him. No response? Well that’s just rude.

I brush off the small annoyance like a fly buzzing around my head and try again, maybe I’m not asking the right questions, “Do you Know each other? Have you met?”

“In a way.”

“What does that even mean?” I bite back a scowl, she’s beginning to frustrate me again.

I scan her as her powerful vibes diminish with weakness, like she’s crumbling or wilting. I start to worry, “Hey, what’s the matter?”

She makes eye contact with me and her eyes glitter with such an enchanting air I’m a bit mystified. Like being whacked over the head with a nine iron.

She appears as an angel about to shed sparkling tears. I’m physically pained by that look in her liquidy eyes. Her lips part, curling into something so lovely and wistful it makes my soul ache with pure bliss and morn from unthinkable loss.

The weight of her emotion is cataclysmic as it collides head on. Her face is like a painting that jerk tears seemingly from nowhere. A piece of art or sad scene in a movie that crushes your heart, leaving you wondering what the meaning of life is and what the hell is wrong with you, all in an instant.

Her feelings are bombarding me, overwhelming me, blasting with the force of a fire hose. Joy, sorrow, rapture, misery, ecstasy, suffering. All of this blinding my senses like a second sun on the rise.

Alone.

Lonely.

Bitter, excruciating *loneliness*.

She slowly closes her eyes with an exhale. The spotlight fades out and the curtains draw closed as that tidal wave of emotion recedes into nothing. She winds it all back like a reel of tape and stores it away somewhere deep to be forgotten.

I’m trembling uncontrollably and resist dropping to my knees. It’s like Juniper just decided to strap me to the front of a rocketship and send me into orbit. Maybe she didn’t mean to, but damn!

That whirlwind of Whatever that was, only lasted a few seconds but it’s impact is proving to be a bit traumatizing.

I hear muted laughter, my eyes flick up to see June’s shoulders shake. Her mouth is shut so it comes out in hums and choppy breathes through her nose, high throaty clicks. Oh boy, she may have just cracked.

“Blood never lies, tells all secrets,” Juniper says composed and smooth as ever, “So invasive.”

I quiver in silence, it’s not like I have anything to add to that statement anyway.

Her cool eyes fall on my face like nothing happened, “Come, the rain will end soon and he may hear our chatter without it’s cover.”

I straighten and physically shake myself off like a wet dog as she dances to my side. I study the guy again. There’s nothing obviously special about him. He’s human, his thick rimmed glasses are a clear indicator of that, other than his desirable pulse. He must have spent a good amount of time outdoors as he had a healthy tan. Some natural sun bleached highlighting stood out in his thick hair. He would be considered attractive by most with that strong angular face, but nothing is really out of the ordinary. Nothing that stands out specifically.

June must sense my curiosity about him, “To answer your question, I know him. And have known him for a long time. But he won’t remember me.”

My mouth parts as my eyes dart back to study her. Her hood shadows her eyes and her lips are drawn into a flat line. Won’t remember? So he forgot? June wasn’t someone you could simply forget. Not only were her looks so striking that it would immediately brand the image of her into your mind, her presence was fierce and undeniable. Just overpowering.

Maybe he was a kid when they met? Though, if I saw someone like June as a child I’d probably carry that memory with me forever.

With her midnight hair that fell like a cape past her h.i.p.s, skin like snow and eyes that shone bluer than the water of a crystal oasis. Not to mention the palpable power she exudes. I would have believed her to be an angel or an alien, something otherworldly.

“Come along, petite,” she calls, already a great distance ahead of me.

I stare back at the man once more. His face is to the sky. He scratches along the scruff of his jaw, squinting like something was wrong with it. As if it were fake and someone punched a hole through it.

Perhaps not so ordinary after all. I wish I could watch him longer but June is pretty much forcing me to follow, so I comply.

June had gone off road, she was more than halfway across a large field. ‘Thanks for waiting.’ I roll my eyes and take off toward her.

It still amazes me how fast I can run, how good it feels, invigorating. The grass bends away as I draw forward, the breeze sliding around my flesh like curious hands. It smells refreshing, tastes clean.

I rejoin her in half the time I expected it to take. A half smile crawls up her cheek as I enter her side view.

“Let us find you something sweet before we head home, yes?”

My blood runs cold as my eyes flash over to her. No, that sounds like a horrible idea!

My mouth falls open to protest but she turns to me with an interrupting giggle.

“Calm yourself, petite. I won’t interfere. I understand your way is different than my own.”

Won’t interfere, huh? I’m having a hard time believing that. She was the one who told me not to trust her, after all.