Blood Juniper A Vampire Tale - Volume 1 Chapter 58 A Change Of Plans

“Damn it, Ash! Come back here!” Sam yells frantically. I’m sure he’s already regretting his decision to pull over but I need to grab something, it’s urgent.

I run back to my parent’s motel door and knock. It’s really important, though, I can’t quite remember what it is. When I see them I’m sure I’ll remember.

“Don’t go inside!” Sam is hollering and chasing after me.

I’m pounding on the door at this point. I can’t leave until I have this Thing! I can’t have Sam getting in the way. I can’t explain it to him, he won’t understand.

“Ashlen, come back!”

I double fist the door, hammering it with both hands. I need it, need it now!

The door opens wide, my dad stands in the frame looking very alarmed.

“Ashlen?” his voice seems to be echoing like we’re inside a cave, there’s this roaring sound drowning out his voice. His lips are moving but no words are coming out.

Time is slowing and I focus on his lips as white noise buzzes in my head. It’s like standing beneath a waterfall. It’s pouring down on my head, fantastically tepid.

My skin tingles with delight. It’s overtaking my taste buds, filling my nose. The heat is rising, sinking into my pores.

There’s an uncontrollable beating swirling around my head, someone is rocking out on a drum set. It’s in my brain, the finest sound my ears have ever experienced. Sweet, sweet music.

I’m so absorbed in every sense I barely notice the tugging sensation at my shirt and pulling at my hair. Yanking, trying to pull me off this amazing No Oh, no! No!

Dad is dying in my arms, he’s barely breathing. His pulse is far too weak. There’s a large gash on his throat, blood everywhere. I’m killing him *I* killed him.

“Ashlen, stop it!” My mother sobs and screeches, heaving at my shirt and hair in a delirious fit.

That heart is thumping in her chest, I can’t seem to keep my attention on anything but her wretched pulse. I don’t want to do this! I can’t stop.

I snarl and jump on top of her. She’s screaming and flailing, trying to push me off but I’m too strong for her.

I hiss, squeezing her throat with both hands. Compressing harder, my hands are shaking. Squeeze, *squeeze*, crushing her windpipe. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I stop!

I’m breaking skin, she’s gagging, her face is turning blue. ‘Stop this right now!’

I release my hands only to replace them with fangs. They plunging into the bruised flesh. It’s soft and wonderful and gushes around my teeth like the perfect strawberry. I can’t resist it. It’s like I’m glued to her skin.

Liquid candies, extraordinary goodness drenches my lips. It feels wonderful and awful all at once. I taste my own tears mixing with her blood. This is so wrong, so right. I’m utterly complete but hopelessly lost.

Their blood is coursing through me, it’s exactly what I need, but I don’t want it! This is *not* what I want. I said I wouldn’t harm them, I promised myself! How did this even happen?

I’m drowning in their blood, guzzling it by the mouth full. I want to scream but all I can do is drink. The pulse throbs in my head until it fades into softness. Finger tapping vanishing into puffs of smoke.

Endlessness, eternity and finally Emptiness.

They’re gone and I’m alone.

I inhale a guttural breath, my nails have torn into something.

Feathers. Feathers are everywhere, spinning in the air like a snowstorm. The plain silk canopy hangs above the bed posts. A most beautiful sight.

No blood, just a dream, a nightmare. That was absolutely horrific. I empty my lungs and keep going until it’s actually impossible to continue exhaling.

“You slumber deeply and violently.”

My fingers dig deeper into the ruined mattress. I spot Juniper at the foot of my bed. She follows a feather floating near her face, balancing it on the end of her index and blowing it away with a single puff.

She looks back at me ruefully, “I heard your screams. You wouldn’t wake, it must have been something dreadful.”

I yank at the tangled mess of blankets wrapped around my legs. I tear wider holes in the already mangled sheets trying to get them untwisted and give up. I’ve thoroughly destroyed this poor bed.

I reach for a pillow and aggressively thrust it into my face, letting out a groan of frustration. There’s no escaping the constant stress. All I wanted was a little peace after confronting my parents. I can’t even sleep it off!

My m.o.a.ning is muffled by the pillow, “All I ask for are good dreams. Is that too much to ask?”

I rip the pillow off my face and fling it against the closest wall. Feathers twirl in a tornado as the pillow slaps hard against it and explodes into more fluff.

‘Oops.’ It looks like someone blew up a flock of chickens with a grenade launcher in here.

I cover my face with both hands, muttering through them, “Sorry I didn’t know I could be this destructive in my sleep. Did I wake you up? I hope your sleep was better than mine.”

“I no longer sleep.”

I peek at her through my fingers, “Really, why? What do you do all night Er… Day? It must get boring.”

She sneers at the mattress, “Wakefulness at all hours is a tolerable kind of madness. When I slumber, I’m burdened by unpleasant events of the past. The imagery is most palpable.”

Haunted by her past? So I’m not alone in the nightmares. I should consider myself lucky mine are just dreams. I am very curious about June’s history but I don’t dare tread near that. She looks a little unstable just mentioning it.

She smooths over her disturbed features, regarding me thoughtfully, “You are curious to know what I get up to during the odd hours, hmm? How about we go out together and I’ll show you a few things? We shall dine then jaunt about.”

I don’t know about that. I think I need at least a few hours to myself to recoup.

She seems to read my mind or maybe my expression is that obvious, “I see, you must recover. Another time then.”

I stop her before she takes off.

“How about we meet somewhere a little later?” I don’t need the whole night to myself. Who knows, maybe she’s just the distraction I need.

“Very well, Petite,” she simpers, “The public library is fairly equidistant. Shall we rendezvous there?”

“Sure, it’s a date.”

“Time?”

“What time is it right now?”

“About half past five in the evening.”

Wow, really? That trance sleep really kills off the hours.

“Um,” I juggle around a good time to meet with her, “How about ten?”

“Done. Ten O’clock, it is.”

*****

I lean back into the wall as I sit on the smooth stone framing the main terrace of the library.

I’m feeling loads better since that little nightmare. It’s such a temptation to nap my problems away but it’s clear my dreams are more volatile than when I was human. I’ll have to be more cautious.

It’s a nice night out, I’m pleased I got my fill on my own without a hitch. I’d be in a decent mood if my patience weren’t wearing thin.

However, waiting has given me time to speculate my two new friends.

Sam and June have a few similarities. They both go out of there way to look out for me. Sometimes it’s extreme, overbearing even and I don’t always agree with their methods but it’s the thought that counts.

They are fairly secretive when it comes to certain topics and each seem to harbor an impressive amount of skill or power. I’m really glad they’re not my enemies.

But I think I’ve found the biggest difference between the two of them. Constancy and reliability.

If Sam says he’ll do something, he does everything in his power to make it so. If he agrees to persuade someone for Cooper, it will happen. Says he’s going to do something for me, already done. Tells you he’s going to be somewhere? It will be on time.

June, However

‘Meet me at the public library’, she says. ‘Meet you there at ten’, she says.

Yeah, right! Here *I* am, now where is she?

I check the time on my phone. It’s a quarter past ten!

Is she blowing me off? I send her a text to find out where the hell she’s at. It’s still really weird to me that she actually has a phone. She seems like the type that would be completely incompetent with technology. Color me impressed.

No answer. She’s like Sam in that respect, too. They don’t always carry their phones on them, sort of inconvenient.

I guess I’m doing this the hard way then; searching for her with our telepathic connection or whatever the hell it is.

She’s probably waiting for me to come find her like some kind of game of hide and seek. Maybe she’s been messing me from the start and *wants* to test my patience.

I leap off the stone arched banister and take off down the steps, reaching out to her with the sixth sense I’m not entirely comfortable using. If I were Juniper, where would I hide?

I walk down the street staring up at the building tops, hoping to see an eerie pair of eyes staring back. I can imagine her perch up there like a stone gargoyle.

No tug at my emotions, no separated waves of disembodied thoughts. She better be close or I’ll go find Sam instead.

What would I do if I were June? Draw someone into the dark and suck them dry? She doesn’t have a pattern to that either.

I go through all the 5 W words. They are all coming up empty. *Who*? Does Juniper have other friends or is she a staunch recluse? I don’t know if I’ve seen her talk to anyone she doesn’t plan to either fight or make a meal out of.

I feel a sharp emotion strike. ‘Woah! What is that?’

It’s a rotten sinking feeling like forgetting about the last stair at the bottom of the bas.e.m.e.nt steps and unknowingly dropping from it. A flight or fight response. Is that Juniper? Is she in trouble?

I start running toward that squiggly string of our connection. It’s difficult to track something that’s pretty much invisible and exists somewhere in the ether, not necessarily a straight line.

Our link becomes fuzzy when I veer in the wrong direction. I pivot and twist in the wind. I must look so ridiculous floundering about, like I can’t make up my damn mind. Good thing no one is watching.

What do I expect to do if she is in trouble? Well I can’t turn back now.

The connection takes a dynamic shift, bloodthirsty. She’s enjoying whatever is going on in a very demented sort of way.

There’s a horrible scream that rips me out of my thoughts, startlingly long and loud. I freeze in place for a moment.

I slow down and begin to creep toward the screaming. June’s energy is erratic yet focused. Fighting, and from the feel and sounds of it, she’s winning. Hmm, maybe she doesn’t need my help.

I slip through the shadows slowing down and staying alert. I don’t know what’s going on but I should get to her anyway.

I’ve been in this area before. I found June here using our link last time. The halfway complexes? Why is she always here?

The fight snarls and struggled shrieking is cut off abruptly. I smell exposed blood but not human blood. That can’t be good.

I see something rocket into the air across the street and about three buildings away. That’s a body, a limp body being tossed high!

My mouth hangs open wide following the rag doll carcass catapult then crash onto a flat top roof. *Holy crap!* What did I just watch?

The connection goes dark, silent. Oh no! Was that Juniper?

My stomach drops as I sneak in that direction. What am I going to do if she’s hurt or *dead*? The thought is terrifying and oddly Painful.

I can hear a conversation but can’t quite make out what they’re saying. Just a little closer. I stay on the opposite side of the road and edge around the light of the street lamps, soundless as possible.

A man and a woman. The woman sounds like June, fingers crossed that it is.

The voices become clear and a drumming floats along. The man must be human.

That’s definitely June’s voice, she speaks again, “Trust me. I’ve taken care of it. Do you trust me?”

There’s a pause before the other answers her question, “… I’m not sure.”

She chortles, “Good, that’s very good.”

I have a visual. I find some letter box under a burnt out light to hide behind and observe quietly. June is very close to a human man, dangerously close. Is she going to eat him?

Her emotions are Warm, soft? Is she stroking his cheek? This is so strange.

The man’s eyebrows are dipping into confusion behind his thick rims, “Who are you? Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Do you?” she answers a question with a question, as always.

“Do you know Me?”

I stare at the guy. He’s covering her hand with his, holding it to his face. Wait a second, it’s that guy! The one taking pictures of lightning that Juniper was spying on before. Who is this guy?

He suddenly exclaims, “It’s freezing out here, why aren’t you wearing a jacket? Or shoes!”

I stare down at her feet, why the hell *isn’t* she wearing shoes?

He moves to give her his jacket but she stops him, “I’m fine, Dominic. Keep it on.”

Dominic, so that’s the mystery man’s name.

“So you do know me. Have we met?” his voice becomes almost too quiet to make out, “Have you been following me?”

I catch eyes with June and shrink back. Busted eavesdropping. She keeps talking to him while eyeing me, “I must leave you. Go home and get some rest.”

“Wait, where are you going? Will I see you again?”

“I have things I must attend to. We will meet again,” her demeanor is so soft and loving as she turns back to him, “I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

Is she In love with him?

He takes her by the hand, “At least tell me your name.”

June looks around her. Is there someone *else* out here with us? A spy of a spy of a spy? It would be comedic if the thought didn’t make me shiver with discomfort. I mimic her behavior and scan the area.

I quietly gasp when I look back. Juniper is kissing him!

A tidal wave of raw power and passion blasts from her. It’s a simple kiss on the surface but it’s tragic, deep, a little desperate even. I feel a little bad being so touched by their display of intimacy. I didn’t think Juniper was capable of such gentleness and affection.

June pulls back and caps her intense emotions. The man, Dominic, looks a little heartbroken that she stopped.

“Goodbye, Dominic,” the way she says it breaks *my* heart. What is the story here?

He gives her a longing look, “Stay.”

He takes his eyes off of her for half a second and June melts into the shadows. She’s so swift that even I lose sight of her.

The guy looks panicked and confused by her disappearance, stumbling back as if she were a ghost. He regains himself quickly searches the area trying to find her.

A voice comes whisking over my shoulder, “Good timing, Petite.”

It startles me and I squeak involuntarily before a hand claps over my mouth to muffle the sound.

June holds me from behind clicking her tongue until the tension in my body subsides. Her hair tickles my neck as her head sways, “Skittish, still so very skittish.”

She releases me and I turn to face her with so many questions.

“Who is that, June? What is going on?” I whisper.

June views him calmly as he continues searching for her. She shakes her head, “We mustn’t discuss this now. There’s been a change in plans. Did you feed?”

I nod.

“Good, stay close and do not ask me questions until we are back at the cabin, agreed?” her stance is composed yet urgent.

I furrow my brows and think it over. I nod again.

She looks appreciative of my cooperation and watches Dominic still seeking her out, “As soon as he is inside. I’m going to show you a secret.”