Blood & Juniper

I remain in the empty bathroom to compose myself, the task is a bit easier with her gone.

My father's encouragement comes in the form of one of his regular pep talks. He would tell me I was tough, that I can overcome anything I set my mind to. Would he say that to me now, if he knew?

The thought of him leads to memories of my mother. My mom was kind-hearted and thoughtful. I remember the smell of her baking. Sometimes, when she knew I was having a rotten day she'd make chocolate chip cookies. The classic cookie and my favorite cookie. It *was* my favorite anyway.

I sigh, homesick. I usually don't get homesick, but knowing I can't go home…

I'm getting depressed and even more hungry. I need to think of something else that makes me happy, something encouraging.

Sam.

I roll my eyes shaking my head. It's funny how I went from forced hatred to actually admiring him so quickly.

I admired his passion, his chilviousness and I got the impression he did actually care about doing the right thing even if he struggled to because of our shared predicament.

I believe he has a good heart, good intentions.

His smile, not only was it dazzling but heart stopping. And though his captivating eyes weren't always easy to read, they were always genuine.

He has believed in me from the start of this mess, always going out of his way to help me. Maybe it started as pity or regret, but he still hasn't left.

I can do this. I am strong. Sam, someone I just recently met has so much faith in me, so why can't I have that same faith in myself?

I stand tall, ready to leave the restroom. Feeling more confident than before, feeling better.

I'm surprised I admitted to Sam how I felt safe with him, but it's true. I down played it actually, I think I'm addicted to his company. And the funny thing is I don't think that d.e.s.i.r.e for being around him will fade anytime soon. In fact, it's only grown stronger.

I smile to myself as I step out to explore the fancy bar. 'Let's take a look at the upstairs balcony, shall we?'

I trot up the steps staring at the high ceiling above. The low lights sparkle pleasantly. I make it to the top and spot something that immediately peaks my interest. A neat little jukebox.

I stroll over to see if they have any good songs in the thing. It looks pretty retro and the craftsmanship on this thing is amazing! Thick, vivid rainbow tubes ran down the sides of the rounded box, looking almost organic and alive. Even smaller bubble tubes sn.a.k.e.d through the neon lights. I could stare at this thing for hours.

The perfect light tubes transitioned on a color wheel rotation, some of colors that faded in were nameless and completely new to me. The beautiful piece of machinery and wood seems to speak to me of its history and travels as I place a hand on the cool surface.

A quarter for four songs and a dime for one. I scroll through the available songs as a devious smirk infiltrates my face.

Songs from decades ago, I reach into my pocket happy to find some loose change floating around, mostly pennies but I eventually find something silver. I locate a dime and pop it in.

'Let's see how Sam reacts to one of these songs.' I wiggle about, pleased with myself.

It doesn't play immediately, the track must be behind someone else's picks. That works for me, I want to see his face when it starts playing anyway.

I walk to the banister overview, wondering if Sam is still chatting with his friend.

I look down below at the bar, spotting Cooper engrossed in conversation with that bartender who stuck up for me earlier. Sam's not with them anymore, where'd he go?

"You're newly turned, aren't you?"

I flip my head around to see who's talking, are they even talking to me?

I meet eyes with person who's wearing attire fit for a detective, a hat and trench coat. He just needs a pipe or magnifying glass to complete the look.

His hat shadows his light brown eyes, he's not human. I stare at him without answering.

He position himself by the railing adjacent from me holding out a hand, his gaze unblinking, "I'm Miles."

I hesitate, examining his poised stance. His eyes are so focused, like they're calculating my moves, analyzing me. There is something about him that makes me feel uneasy.

He suddenly turns his attention away as if he sensed my uncertainty, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We're the same, but you already knew that, didn't you?" his gaze wanders to loosely examine the activities below, "It's pretty impressive that you're so controlled in a crowded place such as this. It took me a while to readjust. You must be special."

He gives me a friendly grin, he seems nice enough, maybe too nice. I can't shake these vibes that are just off about him.

I respond, "Well, it's not easy, but I'm trying my best."

He chuckles, "They never make it easy, but most of the people you see aren't permanent residence. That makes the cover up a bit less challenging."

My lips purse, I don't think I like what he's implying.

He glances at me from the corner of his keen eye, "You're not from around here either, are you?"

"No, I'm from out of state."

"So, you're far away from home?"

The question seems innocent enough but I really don't want to tell him where I'm from, I'll just give him the b.a.r.e minimum, "Kind of, I'm from the mountain west area," he may not even know what states are in the Rocky Mountain region, good. If he asks anymore I'll imply he's being nosy.

"You don't say! I'm from the Rocky Mountain region too," he turns to me as I give him a surprised look. Well, that's a big area, there's no way we're both from Colorado.

"My home town... is in Colorado, ever been there?"

What! I didn't tell him I was from Colorado, did I? No, no way. I don't buy it, he's lying! But how did he know? Does he know?

I'm a bad liar, so I'll just keep the vague routine going, "Yeah, I've been there."

"Really?" he acts surprised but his smile implies he's not.

I act disinterested to move on from the subject, "I have some relatives that live there."

"I see," he looks out over the balcony again.

Alright, how do I get this guy to leave? Should I make an excuse and go find Sam?

"So, do you know of any interesting places around here? I came here with my Maker, we don't know our way around New Corvis, yet."

I'm not the person to ask. I only know about the old diner I used to work at and few clubs and restaurants my former coworkers invited me to. I didn't even know how to get back to most of them because of my lousy sense of direction.

"Sorry, I haven't lived here that long either. You'll probably have more luck asking the bartender."

"Are you here by yourself or is your Master here with you?"

Again, the question could be harmless but I have the strangest feeling it's not. Juniper at a place like this with me? I imagine her massacring everyone here, an unpleasant thought.

I glance at Miles and I almost jump out of my skin. His eyes are faintly lit crimson from under his hat with a look of someone who can't quite mask the epiphany they just had. What is he doing to me? Why do I feel so violated from his presence.

He's in my head.

Get out of my head.

Get out!

He tilts his head and the natural color of light brown shows in his irises again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel obligated to answer my silly questions. I've been told I'm too forward."

He looks down and smirks. My shoddy state of mind is getting to me. Just paranoia, right? I'm not sure, but I don't trust him.

I don't take my eyes off of him and notice his fingers moving like he's counting something, or timing something? I stare back at his face, he's looking at something beyond my shoulder, his lips move like he's chanting some kind of incantation.

My brows furrow as I try to read his lips, I'm a little startled when his lips stretch into a smile, I take my gaze off his mouth to see him staring at me as he remarks, "I've become so terrible at making friends, I must be out of practice."

Here's my chance to shoo him away and still remain civil, "Your timing is a bit unfortunate, I'm not in the best mindset." 'And maybe if you weren't so shady, you'd have an easier time making friends.'

He laughs through his nose. I'm not sure what's so funny.

His eyebrows raise suddenly like something unusual had just taken place, "Please excuse me, I must get going. I'm sure we'll see each other around," He narrows his eyes as the corners of his lips turn up slightly, "Ashlen."

My jaw hits the floor and he practically vanishes from sight, not giving me anytime to react more than that. How did he know my name! Did I tell him? No, I never gave him my name.

I catch him sweeping past two girls with unnatural speed that ruffles their hair as he heads down the stairs. Leaving the girls confused but not alarmed. He's in a public place but is running around like that? What the hell just happened, who is this guy?

A man's voice rings clear asking, "What was that about?"

It's Sam. Too bad he didn't show up a few seconds earlier. I'm about to lose it.

"He knew my name, I don't remember telling him my name," I stare at the stairs half expecting him to appear again.

"Are you positive?"

"I think so, maybe not?" I'm doubting myself now, "That guy is a vampire, I think he was trying to make light conversation with me. He knows I'm 'new' somehow."

He eyes me earnestly, did he see him too? Am I not alone when it comes to my bad feeling about the one who calls himself 'Miles'?

He comes a bit closer, focusing all his attention on me, "You look troubled."

I explain myself quickly, "I mean, it was like any normal interaction at a bar. Telling me a little about himself, asking me friendly enough questions…but…"

"But?"

"Am I just being paranoid? I feel like he was probing me for information, it felt off. Am I overreacting?"

He shakes his head, "There was definitely something fishy about him. What questions tipped you off?" so he did see him, I'm not crazy. He may not have seen or heard everything but he noticed something underhanded.

I give him the key points of the conversation. He listens intently while working through his own thoughts.

I end my explanation with the question that made me the most suspicious, especially his reaction when I didn't even give him an answer, "The other question that stood out was when he asked if I was here with my master. That's not a normal question, is it?"

"No, that definitely sounds intrusive, like you said. You didn't tell him any details or mention the reaper, did you?"

"I don't think so, tried to be imprecise but," Why did that guy have to come up to me? Now I'm super freaked out! He did something to me, used his hoodoo voodoo on me and I have no idea why! "Could he have done that hypnosis thing on me, maybe I told him without knowing? It was weird Sam! I felt kind of vulnerable, like he could see through my clothes and knew all my secrets. I really didn't like it!"

A frown deepens the indents across Sam's face, I was kind of hoping he could tell me this was nothing, "Did he say anything that made you feel like telling him information was a good idea or did you give him information without wanting to, as if you couldn't deny him the answers?"

"No… I don't think so. But it was like he was in my head or something, sort of."

"It doesn't sound like he tried to persuade or control you," he pauses pursuing his lips, his brows knit thinking hard, "Tell me if you see him again."

I bounce my head as I stare over the rail at nothing in particular. I'm scared.

He asks, "Did you happen to see his eyes? The color?"

"Light brown," I remember his knowing eyes, that seemed to soak up answer without answers actually being spoken.

I obsess over him. What if I run into him alone again? Will I have to fight him? What made him target me? Damn, damn it all!

I feel a touch on my hand and refrain from gasping.

"Ash."

I turn to look at Sam. He appears less worried and more sympathetic.

"I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."

His vow makes my heart flutter. I feel my fears slowly being whisked away.

He searches my face for a long time as determination sets into his feature, "I promise."

My first impression of Sam was that he would just stand by and let things happen, but that's really not true at all. He's always protecting me.

Protecting me from others, from my dumb choices, even from myself.

I've always felt like I needed to do things on my own, that I needed to be independent. Although I've never been great at it, I strived for it, though it has probably contributed to my unfulfillment... loneliness. Loneliness I had never really dwelled on until after my death.

I couldn't burden others with my problems. And perhaps that's why I felt so alone when I turned into this. I never let someone take care of me, never told someone my deepest fears and secrets. Even the ones I love most.

But Sam, I didn't ask him. He just did it. He looked after and sheltered me even though he had no obligation to.

I feel safe with him. Maybe... I don't have to do this alone.

The positive thought makes me giggle softly. Sam's confusion makes me want to laugh harder.

I keep my intense feelings to myself, instead lightening the mood, "You can't promise something like that!"

"Why not?"

"What, you're not going to let anything happen to me? Like anything? That's impossible."

He rolls his eyes, "You're being a wise a.s.s, taking me too literally on purpose," He smirks, "I know you understand what I mean."

He takes his hand off of mine, I wish he left it there. I like it when he touches me.

He reassures me as he scans the room, "I'm going to look out for you. Don't worry about that guy, if I see him again I'll take care of it."

I can't help but smile at him while he's not looking.

My song starts to play from the surrounding speakers and my smile widens. I hold my bottom lip with my teeth to keep from snickering as I stare at Sam, waiting.

I got him! His head bounces slightly to beat of the song along with his tapping fingers resting on the rail. I bet he's tempted to sing along.

He notices my stupid grin and raises a suspicious eyebrow as he looks me over, "What are you so giddy about all asudden?"

"You seem to like this song… You must know this song *really* well."

His eyes narrow and I crack. He's on to me.

I goad him with mock innocence, "This song is like, really old, right? From the sixties, did you go see them in concert?"

He gives me a look like I'm ridiculous, "Ash, you don't have to be old to know this song. Everyone knows who the Beatles are."

Damn, he's got a point. He steals my mischievous grin as he ruins my fun, "Well!" I argue, "Not everyone could identify them by this song! And *you* probably know all the lyrics."

"Any music enthusiasts knows the song 'I want to hold your hand'."

"Oh, are you a music enthusiasts then?"

"I do like music," he steps closer to me, grinning deviously, "but maybe you picked this song to suggest something else?"

He begins to sing along retaining that knowing look, "*And please say to me, you'll let me hold your hand.*"

He actually has a really nice singing voice. This is totally back firing, I start to feel hot under the collar as he takes my hand in his, his eyes are smoldering.

He lowers himself to me and I hold my breath, his silky hair brushes against my cheeks as he leans to whisper something in my ear. Did my heart just start beating again?

"For future reference, I have a thing for 70's and 80's stuff…"

He pulls away with a coy smile leaving me breathless as he adds, "Particularly rock and metal. But I'm not choosy, I enjoy most music."

He knows what he's doing, that bastard.

His hand slips out of mine. I admittedly do want to keep holding his hand.

"Sam."

He makes direct eye contact again, seeming interested in what I have to say to him.

"I'm starving, let's find someone."

"You want me to find someone for you?"

"No, we're sharing, remember?"

I smirk as his smugness is immediately sponged up, 'yeah, not so nice to be put on the spot, huh?'

He thinks it over biting the inside of his cheek as he glances around the upper floor.

His gaze directs back to my face as he stares in deep contemplation before deciding, "Ok, but they need to be sober if I join."

"Do you not drink?"

He snorts, "I do nothing but drink," I fold my arms as he flashes his teeth at me, "I'm not against it but I want my wits about me tonight."

"That's fine," I scan the room, "So who's it gonna be?"

His eyes are fixated on a girl sitting at the main bar below. She looks bored playing with the straw sticking out of her glass.

"That girl, I don't think she's had anything alcoholic."

"Sounds good, show me how it's done."