Blood & Juniper

Accounts of Sam, October, 5th, 2017.

New Corvis in autumn is always a lovely sight. Orange and red leaves litter the street, moss and twisty shrubs of every color surround like an overactive virus. The forest threatens to overtake every brick and under its scrupulous growth. The crisp air is filled with the scent of fermenting trees preparing for winter. Some will stay healthy and forever green being so close to the sea.

At times October fog can get so thick it's difficult even for a vampire to see. Ghostly shadows will weave through the wall of grey, the cl.i.c.k.i.n.g footsteps of passersby echo off plaster and cement. It's like a journey through a melancholic purgatory. Eerie sounds always seem to amplify in dense clouds.

No fog today but a light mist curls around every lamp post and the tops of pointed evergreens. I sweep along the uneven cracked sidewalk.

A woman in a coarse hat and a matching wooly long coat buttoned up to her chin moves to pass me. Her tan heels rap against the crooked payment squares. She wobbles slightly catching her foot on a large crack but smoothes it over quickening her tiny strides.

Her scent curls like the mist and her pulse taps like those pleather stilettos. It's odd, I'm noticeably ravenous today. I had a snack not to long ago and now I'm already thinking about seconds.

I ignore my gluttonous urge, letting her move past unhindered and make my way to Old Sal's. A sign of restored vintage frames the covered entrance above. It likely said 'Saloon' before they doctored the aged wood, making it the perfect fusion of old and new.

I swing the front entrance ajar and scan the pub decorated in varying shades of brown. According to Cooper's text, he and Ashlen had been here for 'Hours and Hours'. They were getting along better than I expected with only a week of hashing out their differences. Cooper never made picking a fight with him easy though, he's so laid back it's almost obnoxious at times.

"Older women? Cooper you sound like a complete tool. The oldest woman here hasn't even reached forty. Does the prospect of maturity and responsibility frighten you?" I overhear a snide remark recognizing it as Ashlen's before the bar is rocked with boisterous deep set laughter.

I follow the booming laughter to the small table behind a wooden beam propping the ceiling above. The two are casually sitting apart from each other.

"I'm not talkin' 'bout a wee four decades, Ashy. Try ova a centuray," Cooper retorts before he leans to whisper something in her ear and points across the bar. Her eyebrows rise high.

I follow his gesturing hand to a table of older vampires. They look like a bunch of life-sized dolls gathered around a tea table. One male and two females, staring blankly with stoney expressions. Still as marble effigies, they don't even bat their eyes. Ancient vampires can be absolutely uncanny and more than a little creepy.

I approach their table. I can tell Cooper is getting ready to leave by his prolonged mild glances at random spots in the pub. If he's leaving, Ash and I should too. There must be something wrong about that group of walking corpses.

Ash asks me suddenly, "Sam, Cooper says older women are crazy, do you think that's true?"

"Well, I-"

Cooper chortles, leering at me before jumping in, "Oh, Sammy has first hand experience wit' tha' one."

Ashlen squints at Cooper in confusion before returning to me with a quizzical look.

Cooper's grin of mischief grows steadily to his cheeks, "Ya, go on. Tell 'er all 'bout tha' nutty broad ya got tangled up wiff fer a while."

I frown at Cooper, not appreciating him bringing her up. Although, she is the perfect example of 'crazy older women' I know Cooper is referring to.

Ashlen asks with emphasized interest, "Who?"

"No one," I snuff out the subject like a match falling into water as I continue giving Cooper the stink eye.

Cooper shrugs his shoulders at me as if to say, 'Well, she is psycho, you know.'

Ash purses her lips, her gaze switches between the two of us trying to decipher our wordless conversation. Knowing her, she won't let this drop, she's far too curious for that. I'm positive she'll be asking me about this later. 'Thanks a lot, Coop.'

"Ah, tha' lil' muffin has returned," Cooper remarks, standing and soundlessly pushing in the chair.

I follow his gaze to a woman with full blonde cascading curls and a fake bust. She's wearing something more appropriate for summer than the fall. The lady has to be cold wearing so little. For what she lacks in clothing she makes up for with that pound of makeup caked on her face.

She wiggles over to Cooper's teddy bear embrace. Even though she's pretty tall for a dame she looks hilariously tiny with Cooper's Herculean biceps wrapped around her.

"Ay, yer a vision, love," he coos in her ear and she giggles snuggling into him tighter.

I roll my eyes then nearly laugh noticing Ash scrutinizing them with an expression of bafflement, intrigue and a hint of disgust.

The woman's voice is high pitched and a bit nasally as she fawns, "I love your accent, where are you from anyway?"

"Mmm, oh ya kno'… Canada."

I turn away to stifle a snort. Girls would often ask Cooper about his interesting accent and where he was from. He'd respond with something different almost every single time. Ireland, Australia, Boston, London… But Canada had to be one of the worst ones he had ever come up with.

I catch Ashlen staring at me with such a funny face I have to pucker my mouth to keep the threat of laughter inside. Ashlen's head is shaking as she mouths; 'You can't be serious.'

"Oh, Canada, huh?" purrs the long legged blonde, fanning her chunky eyelashes, "That's so s.e.xy."

Wow, not the brightest bulb that's for sure, she's not inebriated so there's no blaming it on liquor. Even Cooper's eyebrows twitch a little at that one.

He clears his throat, "Ima 'bout ta blow this joint, bunny. Whadda ya say, wanna head ou'?"

The bimbo snaps her gum, "Mmm-yeah, take me somewhere fun."

His jacket drowns her as he slips it over her shoulders. He makes eye contact with me and nudging his chin to the group of old vampires as they stroll to the door. I know what his gesture suggests. I acknowledge him and he tosses us both a wave over his head before heading outside with his bleach blonde.

I glance back at the group of walking corpses. They have a very foreign air about them, certainly not local. That's unusual, troubling.

One of the females catches my glance, a large hood is dr.a.p.ed over her head just above her brow bone. Her eyeballs roll with physical weight as if rusted in place and nail into mine. An intimidating stare but I stand my ground, cautious not to look away too quickly.

I casually remove my gaze but keep her firmly in my peripherals. Her eyes are unblinking and sizzling into the side of my face. I notice her mouth making subtle movements as if whispering to herself but she may be talking with her companions. Ash and I need to leave.

"We should get going, too," I turn back to Ash.

"Canada, really?" She scoffs, still on about that.

I snicker and joke, "How about that? Apparently, Cooper's Canadian."

*******

"Does he go home with a different woman every night?" Ashlen inquires, I'm not sure if her tone is impressed or judgmental.

We continue walking down the older yet bustling section of New Corvis. The fluorescent signs of clubs, smoke shops and bars buzz overhead. Bulky black wires wrap feebly around the porous telephone poles and straddles the walkway to the flat building tops.

"Cooper? Not every night. He's a flirt but sometimes he just charms someone to get his fill. He naturally has a 'Stop and smell the roses' philosophy."

"He's quite the pick up artist. Doesn't that cause drama? Assuming he leaves the girls alive."

"Cooper usually avoids needless violence. And surprisingly, no. I think most girls have a vague idea of what they're getting into with him. He's not the deceitful type."

Usually is the word. He does have the rare out of character moment, once in a blue moon. Actually, I might not call it out of character, rather his hidden side that I don't entirely understand.

Ashlen runs her fingers lazily over a textured stucco wall, "Were you like him? Did you take home different ladies all the time?"

I turn to her and her face slowly tilts up to meet mine. Other than her eyes, anxious and hungry for the truth, I'm having a hard time reading her face. It almost looks like she's wearing a faint smirk but it doesn't match the expression as a whole. Her face usually gives away everything.

"I've lived a long time. If you're wondering if I've had my flings, I have. I don't do things like Cooper, though. And I haven't been romantically involved with anyone for a while."

I said too much. I should have stopped talking sooner, this will lead to her asking about...

"So, who was Cooper talking about back at the pub? An older woman, huh?"

And there it is, "Look, Ash. I kind of want to leave that in the past."

I stare back at her, grateful to see her interest has abruptly deviated to a corner shop. She steps up to the darkened windows of the pawn shop, I see the reflection of her eyes scan the cluttered windows seals lined with goods and trinkets.

Wait a second, that fragrance. This shop is familiar, what pawn shop is this? Oh no…

"The Treasure Trove? There's something weird about this pawn shop, Sam. Do you hear it, smell it?"

"Wait a minute," I try to get her attention but she's already wandering around the back of the oblong building. Browning wisteria vines eat her up as she ducks into the covered arch.

I chase her around the corner, calling after her, "Ash, you're not going to like what you find back there."

She's already made it to the end of the quaint winding side garden. Ashlen is gawking into a hidden entrance, a purple light reflects off the whites of her liquid eyes.

"Has this always been here?" she whispers in utter amazement, "I've passed by this spot before. I used to go down to Wally's to eat after work with a couple of friends...This was seriously here the whole time?"

I meet up with her and gaze down the spiraling rock steps tucked behind and below The Treasure Trove. The word 'Allure' floats silently above in swirling smoky cursive, hazing in a vibrant color of orchid purple. A smothered heavy bass makes the stone steps quiver with each rumbling thump.

"This is a club," she states with an air of wonderment to no one in particular. It appears not even Ashlen is immune to the inexplicable entice of this nightclub.

She sticks out a dainty foot to scale the charcoal steps. I take her by the hand before her toe touches the first stair.

She turns to me with wide eyes glittering in excitement. I shake my head, "You won't like it down there."

It only sparks her curiosity all the more, "What's down there? Is this a vampire club? This is a vampire club, isn't it?"

I nod and she tilts her head trying to see down the steps like it's a forbidden wonder. Her body leans as if being pulled forward still grasping my hand.

I coax her back to me again, "With that being said, you can imagine what kind of things go on down there… there are humans in there, too."

She's grimaces but isn't entirely deterred, "I know, I can smell them."

"Ashlen, listen. They don't all come back out. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I figured," she sighs, "but I already know I can't do anything to help that."

A twinge of guilt hits her eyes before meeting mine with unbridled intrigue, "Is it really bad? I assume you'd tell me if it was a flat out bloodbath or something."

I chew on the inside of my cheek, "It's a gamble."

'But I suppose any encounter with a vampire is.'

"Cause I kinda want to see it, even if it's just for a second."

I search her face for a while. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back. Can I blame her? This is all new to her, at the very least I can stick around to make sure she doesn't fall into some kind of predicament. Otherwise, she be tempted to come back here without me. Better to explore with a guide then go in blind, I suppose.

Things are always more tempting when forbidden, I know that all too well.

I let out a sigh, "If that's what you wish."

She beams, turning excitedly for the gothic stairwell. We venture into trenches of Allure, she leads me by my hand as we descend deeper. About a story and a half down she starts to get cold feet. She hesitates for a minute and begins gnawing on the nail beds of her free hand.

"Um, so what actually goes on in this club?"

"It's not too late to go back up."

She flips her head around to face me with a look of determination, deliberately removing her finger from her mouth, "No, I want to see it first."

It's not called Allure for nothing.

We wind down the rest of the stairwell reaching the smooth stone entrance. The second cursive Allure is lit like an exit sign just above a door that belongs in a medieval dungeon. A bouncer with a screaming Mohawk is leaning casually against a darkened corner, his eyes follow as we move.

Ash creeps over to the door like she's in a myan temple trying not to set off a booby trap. Her fingers carefully reach for the steel loop handle. The bouncer lets his arms fall to his side. He glides over to inspect and let us in.

She shrieks and jumps back into me as he steps out of the shadows.

'Oh, Ashlen, Ashlen.' She obviously didn't notice him there, even with that loud hairstyle of his. I catch her as she stumbles back. Ash should really be more aware of her surroundings but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't damned funny.

He sniggers and flashes his teeth at her, "A New Blood, eh? Let me grab the door for you. Do you know the rules?"

"Um, well. No, not really," she tucks her hair behind her ear embarrassed.

"Just give her the basics, I can fill her in on the rest."

The Mohawk bobs in gratitude, I'm sure it gets tiring explaining the same thing to every newcomer, "It's pretty laxed here. It's a free zone with minimal interference with the exception of staff. Anyone who's got this pin is staff," he pokes the metallic 'A' clipped onto the skin tight leather shirt, "Do what they say and you won't have any trouble, that includes employed humans. No draining human staff and you pay whatever you arranged with them beforehand. Failure to comply and you'll be dealt with by force. Consequences are severe and can include your execution."

Ashlen gulps looking visibly terrified. She pushes her back firmer against my c.h.e.s.t. I realize too late that I'm still holding her as my embrace instinctively tightens around her. I should let her go, but the idea of letting her go is a bit aggravating if I'm honest with myself.

He grins softly to put her at ease, "I wouldn't worry about it, sweetheart. You don't look like the troublemaking type. Any questions?"

"I-"

I cut her off, "We've got it from here."

The rest is basically exercising common sense.

He gestures with a tilt of his chin reaching for the handle before stopping abruptly. He spins back around eyeing me with a narrowed serious look, "She's not too new, is she? Is the bloodl.u.s.t under control?"

I nod, "Should be fine."

He shrugs and reaches for the ring of the hefty door.

Ash leans to whisper in my ear. Her breath against my neck rouses a bizarre d.e.s.i.r.e and aggression unlike any other, "Are you sure my control is good enough?"

Her candied voice intensifies the feeling. Hell, Is *my* control good enough? I snap out of it quickly.

"We can turn back, just say the word," I assure her.

She stares warily as the opening widens spilling neon fushia and thundering music into the entrance. Her apprehension melts into wonderment then curls into a daring half smirk.

She exits my hold, I have the urge to pull her back into my arms but refrain. I don't have the best feeling about her going inside, but I'll let her do as she likes. Still, this place is unpredictable and I worry.

She keeps one hand in mine and struts forward, stepping through the doorway of Allure with me close behind.