Accounts of Sam, September 2017.
"What do you mean sleepy?" her head begins to dip as her unfocused eyes fall. What the hell is going on? She's falling asleep sitting up, this isn't normal, "Ash, you need to explain what's going on, stay with me."
"Hu-huh? Why-what are you..," she trails off.
I shake her slightly but she doesn't stir, "Hey, can you hear me? Hello?"
I pat her cheek a few times but she doesn't flinch. Out cold, comatose. 'For the second time. What is causing her to pass out like this?'
I lean her back into the couch and sit down beside the two unconscious women, racking my brain for an explanation. My eyebrows come together as I stare at Ash. I had never seen anything like this before.
Drugs? Liquor? Did she have someone during our brief separation? No, I would have smelled them on her. The girl we shared was clean, not even an aspirin tainted her bloodstream. What then, what is the cause?
Did it have to do with her bloodline? I don't know of a bloodline that would cause fainting, the closest match would be a Vanquisher bloodline. But Vanquishers suffers from paralysis, repelled by the threat of inertia, not sudden unconsciousness.
Her slacked frame begins to lean, dropping down and sliding against the back cushions. It's like catching a child that sugar crashed from excessive junk food and a rebellion for bedtime. They'd be frozen in action, half eaten evidence hanging out of their slacken mouth and maybe a bag of chips posed in a light grip before them. Dead to the world.
No pulse and cold to the touch, if someone were to come across her in this state they would immediately assume she had tragically died. I'd be in a panic thinking the same thing if I didn't sense that mellow energy flowing through her like a peaceful stream.
I had never taken the time to realize how pure her aura was, much like herself. It's white and fluffy as the feathery clouds I remember watching on bright afternoon days. Wispy noon clouds I can no longer enjoy without getting singed.
What about the stranger talking to her? Was he from my line, did he use control on her? He'd have to be very skilled to manage something like this. I didn't sense any powerful abnormalities coming from him and he left a long time ago.
Even with that dubious character gone, I don't feel right about letting Ash leave my side. At the very least, not out of my line of sight.
I lean into her and pick her up. Standing with her listless frame draped over my arms. Her heavy head rolls sideways from the reliable force of gravity. Her skin is soft and warm to the touch from the intake of fresh blood, she had more to drink than I did.
Perhaps Cooper will know something I don't, or I'll just get lectured.
I leave the nook with Ash, walking toward the bar. Cooper is talking to Janet, as usual. You'd think they'd run out of things to talk about by now.
Isn't that what happens? Eventually you spend so many hours with each other, you don't have to talk anymore. Merely unspoken conversations instead. That's probably what elderly couples do when you see them quietly sitting together in grandfather clock silence.
No, if Cooper could age to senile levels he'd be that old guy that wouldn't shut the hell up. I might be driven crazy by that version of Cooper. It would end in a 'Sorry old friend, I love you but I need you to inhale deeply into this pillow. And I'm going to keep it firmly pressed against your face until you stop squirming, sound good?'
Fortunately his brain wasn't slowly deteriorating. He's a likeable and often cunning conversationalist.
I can't bring Ash over there like this, Janet will flip her lid. I would prefer her not to investigate and force me to use persuasion. I never had to use persuasion on any one person as much as I did Janet. It concerned me that it could start having an ill effect on her mind or she might build an immunity to my skill. I certainly didn't want to use control. I hadn't used control in years and wished to keep it that way.
I spot an empty loveseat. It's inconspicuous and out of the way, but I'd be able to see it from where Cooper sat.
Glancing around the room then back to the quaint piece of furniture I reluctantly lay Ash across the length of it. I hoped she might wake or even twitch a bit, but she remains completely still.
Her face is like a porcelain doll against the armrest, rosy cheeks flushed from her recent meal. She appears too lovely to be a real living person. Her nose and full lips were small compared to her brilliant eyes. Even closed, her thick long lashes made them a prominent feature.
I brush a strand of hair from her face dwelling on her unexpected kiss. How irresponsible of me.
How could I let her do that? How could *I* do that? I shake my head. I'm kidding myself. I let her because I'm selfish. I know damn well, I should have refused.
She's young, naive and fiery. I took advantage of her innocent curiosity. She was all hyped up on the sensations and embraced me impulsively because of it. Shit, my self-restraint has always been questionable but I thought I was more controlled than this.
I've shared before, it's never been quite so intense. Why is it so overpowering with her, she's like a drug. I even contemplated draining the girl just to have Ash a little longer.
I dig my fingers into my eyes with a groan. 'You need to get it together, Sam.'
You could do so much better, Ashlen. You would be disgusted if you knew who I was and the terrible things I've done. Irreparable damage, my callous and self-centered nature.
But her kiss, her smell, her taste… too good. Everything about her draws me in. The more time I spend, the more I learn about her… The more I like her. If only I was deserving of Ash. If only I was a better man, but I'm obviously not.
My mind starts to swim with less than decent thoughts about her. My gaze trails past her face.
I close my eyes and clear my head with a shake. Why does she keep tempting me, damn it! I can only protect her from myself for so long if she keeps doing this. Ash, you're going to be sorry if you keep this up.
A bite...That brought me back to my senses. Does she understand what that would do?
I clutch the side of my neck where I was first bitten and turned. A frown weighs heavily upon me. That single bite…changed everything. I hate taking every single godforsaken day like he had taken from me. It repulses me to no end. But the consequences are worse if I don't, my demons are relentless! I'm hanging by threads… Frayed threads.
It scares the hell out of me to think he's out there, alive. That I might feel his presence one day. I hate him, hate what he helped create.
Ash and I? Taking blood from one another? The thought tore the most oxymoronic reaction. An appealing temptation and absolute revulsion.
And, of course, fear.
Out of the question, I can never let her bite me, nor I her. Not anyone, but especially not Ashlen.
I glance toward Cooper and Janet again, still talking. Their discussion shows no sign of slowing. I guess I'll have to interrupt.
I slide my hands in my jacket pockets making my way over to them. It's often less crowded on this side where the bar twisted around the wall. It appears to be a place strictly for employees or VIPs. For all I know, it is off limits and Cooper sits there regardless. Janet has yet to kick him out, so who knows.
Cooper shoots me a quick glance, acknowledging my presence. The slightest twitch and tilt of his jaw tells me he knows I'm bothered by something. I'm hit with the sudden realization that *we* had entered into the silent conversation phase. We've known each other for too long, never imagined I'd find that fact unsettling.
I keep my pace, glancing at Ash in my peripherals. Paranoia is eating at me, I really don't like leaving her alone. Even though I could get back to her in a literal half second if the need arises.
"I don't buy it! I didn't know you were such a tin foil hat wearing conspiracist, Coop! You can't be gullible enough to believe- Oh, hey Sam," Janet cuts her debate with Cooper short as she notices me nearing the counter. I keep my expression neutral. Janet might feel the need to snoop if she suspects I'm actually troubled.
Cooper turns his head to me with a half grin, but his eyes suggest they know I've come to him with a more serious issue.
"Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Cooper for a second."
Janet's eyes narrow, "Yeah, sure thing. Is everything alright?"
I'm about to reassure her but Cooper is quicker, "Oh ya, that… I almos' fergot," He nods to himself casually as if he's already aware of what I want from him, "let's get it outta tha wey, then."
Janet gives him a questioning glance as he lifts himself from the barstool.
"It's nothin' too serious, I've jus' been procrastinatin'" He lies, pulling his phone from his pocket as if he's going to text someone, "Is it alrigh' if I take care of this, Jan? I'll fill ya in afta' but it's not reallay tha' excit'n."
She shrugs, no longer interested or suspicious, "No problem, I need to do tills anyway," she walks off to do her currency check and safe routine.
Cooper may be an impressive liar, might have even lied to me on occasion but there is no one I trust more than him.
I watch Janet to make sure she's out of ear shot when Cooper asks, "So did she killa bloke? It's not a mess is it?"
I scoff at his facetious comment as I glance at him. His perennial calm remains steady as he tilts his head, waiting for my bad news.
"No, nothing like that," I look over directly at the loveseat to explain for me.
He looks in that direction and makes a funny face like we're trying to pull a prank on him, "Wot is she doin'?"
"She passed out."
"More like completelay zonked," he hones in on the loveseat, giving Ash a poke in the shoulder as he stands over her, "Eey, love? No time fer ya wee nap."
He pushes the weight of her shoulder with his index, she rolls forward limp when he removes his support. He turns to me baffled, "Did she drink some eejit on elephant tranquiliza'?"
I shake my head, "No, I tasted the girl she had. She was clean, not a drop of alcohol."
His head sways at a loss, muttering, "I haven't a baldy."
"No ideas?"
"Naw..," A hand rubs his chin as he hooks his ankle around a nearby chair, sliding and dropping himself on it.
'Great, he's just as clueless as I am.' I sigh, spinning a chair for myself, "Do you… Think it's a bloodline weakness?"
He squints, "Well, I can't right determine if it woul' be a physical weakness or a mental one," a finger taps against his lips, "Someone coulda got in 'er wee head, didja see any mugs?"
"There was someone suspicious, but he left a while ago, didn't seem all that impressive," I hesitate, "Remember that night you came to check on me about a week ago-"
He nods knowing exactly what I'm referring to, "She was ou' cold then, too. I thought it strange."
"I was toying with the theory of her being on one of the Vanquisher lines, but that's paralysis not-"
"Aye," He answers again before I finish, his eyes are focused on her as he bobs his head.
"So..?"
"It doesn't fit any bloodline I kno'," He gets up and looks at me with palms out, "A mutation? Some quare rare one I donno 'bout?"
"Yer always inna jam," he snickers, "aren't ya?"
'Yep, Thanks. *Really* helpful, Coop.' I glare at him, "It appears so, trouble just can't seem to keep it's grubby mitts off."
He gives me a sympathetic closed lipped smile, "So what cha gonna do?"
"I don't know how long it will be until she wakes up again. I'd rather not have to persuade Janet to hold on calling an ambulance because she thinks Ash contracted alcohol poisoning or overdosed," I squeeze the bridge of my nose as my grumbling escalates into full blown ranting, "My shack is really far on foot, there's an irritatingly large crowd tonight, I've got a ten dollar bill in my pocket which is about a third of everything I've got..."
"Alright, alright, easy, Sam," he cuts into my pity party, pulling an object that sounds like a tiny bell from his pocket, "Ya worry worse than my own motha' used ta, thought I'd die young cause I was too carefree," he lets loose a short cackle as he slugs my shoulder playfully but a little rougher than I think he realized, "Guess she got all worked up fer nothin', ya?"
He fiddles with a jingling item. It's a large ring cluttered with keys.
I raise an eyebrow, "Take up a part time job as a master janitor? Who the hell carries around that many keys?" 'And who has that many keys to begin with?'
He snorts at me as he continues rifling through the myriad of keys, taking one and sliding it off the loop, "Here ya go," he holds it out to me.
"What's this?"
A look of pure smugness appears as he speaks very matter of factly, "A key."
I glare at him, unimpressed. Is there something in the air? Everyone I know is being a smart ass, tonight.
His grin widens, "Take a left at Centa, then jus' before Navy stree' you'll see a complex on tha Norseside named Altair Cove, big lettas," both of his hands bow away from each other in an arch as if he's smoothing a paper over an invisible wall, "Numba 27. It's printed on tha key so ya won't ferget."
He holds the key out a second time waiting for me to take it before continuing, "I am *inviting you* ta stay at my joint, numba 27," he makes it a point to exaggerate my 'invitation', "You can hunka' down with tha doll 'til the 'marrow or 'til she wakes, I'll leave it up ta ya."
I narrow my eyes at him with a tilt, not sure how to react.
Cooper may appear to be in his late 20's but he's actually about double my real age. Not only is he my most trusted friend but he's always looked out for me like a mentor or parental figure would. Even now, he has my back, although he doesn't agree with my choices. I value our friendship, and in this regard, I consider myself lucky.
"I appreciate it, but I don't want to impose."
He shakes the key ring at me before putting it back in his pocket, "Naw, I gotta lotta locks ta choose from. I guess it pays ta be a cry baby from time ta time, don' it Sammy?"
I smirk at him, "Noted, I'll come to you to complain about all my tiniest of problems."
"Ah, so tha usual?" The corners of his lips pull down in near disgust, "Ya alreaday do that."
I shake my head and he flashes his teeth before heading back to his self proclaimed spot, "Yer a resilient one. But don't let yer guard down, ya?"
I nod and he leaves the two of us.
I flip the brass key over in my hand. A 27 is engraved lopsided into the top next to the punched out circle.
I glance down at Ash who hasn't moved an inch since Cooper tried to wake her.
I lift her into my arms and head out to battle the streets.
*******
I can see Navy street from here. This place is really close to Rosie's. It's a wonder how Cooper obtained such a collection of homes, assuming all of those keys were places of residence. And how he maintains all of those supposed living spaces is also a mystery.
I see the Altair Cove splayed and lit in white above. Big letters, just as described.
I had gotten a few odd stares carrying an unconscious woman down the walk. Fortunately, only two easily resolved interferences. What can I say, I'm naturally convincing.
I cradle Ash close as I push the complex door open with my backside, entering the vestibule and getting the second row of double doors out of the way. I feel an overall relief entering the building without being blocked by that notorious invisible wall.
I hated walking into one like an insanely clean sliding glass door. I'm usually too cautious to let it happen but Cooper and Derek caught me running into an uninvited doorway once or twice. Those bastards really got a kick out of it.
19, 21, 23… The cream walls and red carpeted hallway are blatant giveaways at how overpriced this complex is. It's nice, clean but I guarantee the rent is steep. Though, Coop may have found a way around that monthly fee.
A black 27 hangs pretentiously on the door. Ash's heavy head rests against my shoulder as I snatch the key. The prongs rustle against the pins as I fit it into the lock.
I feel eyes on me and look down the hallway. A small dark skinned girl no older than six stares behind her mother's leg with big, fearful chocolatey eyes. She eyes me like I'm a dangerous person. And she'd be correct.
Though children were easily deceived, their intuition was more impressive than their adult counterparts. I had always hated the fact that children had such enticing heartbeats. Quick, honest and easily frightened to greater speeds.
I get the door open quickly. Grimacing at the unpleasant reality, rushing through.
The complex seems quiet but I don't know how Cooper can stand being in a place at such close proximity to the living. It would be distracting and grating for me. One bad day and I might go mad on a slaughter spree. I don't trust myself at times.
His apartment is very minimalist and under-furnished. One couch in the living room with a good sized T.V. in front of it. The granite counter tops in the kitchen are too barren to feel natural. A set of untouched knifes and a cyndrilic holder of cooking utensils for show. I bet the drawers and cupboards are empty. This isn't going to fool anyone.
I can see a faint layer of dust forming and the smell about the place told me this apartment had been uninhabited for at least a month.
I take Ashlen back to one of the rooms. Entering the first one and immediately dismissing it as it's the most 'lived in' room in the entire apartment. The bed is unmade and the scent of multiple women lingers on the sheets. Yep, definitely Cooper's place.
I head down for a room on the opposite side. It's more plain and depressing than a hospital room, just a bed. Not even a window in this isolate bedroom. A bit unwelcoming but it hadn't received 'special' attention so it will do the trick.
I straighten Ash on the bed. She reminds me of the fairy tale Snow white or Sleeping beauty. A beautiful woman enchanted into a mysterious slumber. Though, I doubt a kiss will wake her, and I'm no prince charming. More like the wicked monster to be slain by a prince. However, If I'm the monster this 'prince' has to tangle with, he won't win.
I fix her thick bangs so they aren't a snarled mess in her face, pull the shirt down that was riding up her midriff and unlace her shoes, removing them one by one.
I sit at the foot of the bed for a long time, taking her in as she slept. Going over the why's and how's once more.
I remember suddenly how Ash had warned me the girl we had was drunk or on drugs. She wasn't, but why would she say something like that?
I caress her slender yet athletic arm down to her small hand. I hold her soft hand in mine for a while, stroking it with my thumb.
I attract trouble and Ash can't seem to stay out of it. We were a nightmarish duo.
I get up deciding to find a chair. She's in a windowless room in a locked apartment and should be safe but I need to watch over her. I feel compelled to have her near me.
I search the good sized apartment finding a decent enough chair and taking it with.
I plant it between the doorway and the foot of the bed, then get comfortable as I will probably be here for a while.
Sleeping. Is she dreaming, did you dream when passed out for prolonged periods? It had been such a long time since I had slept, since I had dreamed, seeing how sleeping hasn't been necessity for years.
Curiosity began to take root. Vampiric slumber is said to be quiet intense. Some claimed it was a useful way to work through solutions, to see a problem from every angle. But I had heard from others it could be hard to control a dream and it could devolve into an acid trip, life-like, nightmare if you weren't careful.
I was told you could spend time in your favorite memories, they were as clear and real as yesterday. Some even rumored to have premonitions through their dreams, regardless of the bloodline.
I mull over the idea, thinking about the possibilities. I had gone into a hypnotic trance before but it had been a least a decade. What's the harm in getting a little sleep?
I cross my arms over my chest, closing my eyes. Sitting myself upright but decently comfortable.
I find my eyes flittering open repeatedly to look around right before I "fall asleep". Am I afraid to sleep?
This is ridiculous. Surely, I'll wake up if something happens around me. Being nervous about sleep is illogical. I close my eyes again, determined to enter the mysterious trance.
The dense blackness encapsulates before transporting me to a vivid, tangible place.
A familiar place, my hometown.