[Currently Untitled]

I trudged along the highway, only stopping to raid the occasional car. I had hoped to be farther than this by now, but I underestimated the toll heat would take on my progress. I let go of my mother's locket long enough to unfurl the crumpled map and scanned it, looking for shortcuts that didn't involve crossing the endless Nevada desert. I traced the red line with my finger several times, but at this point, the only smart option was to stay on 228 until I found the little back road that would take me to Las Vegas in a more direct fashion. Hopefully, I'd find some sort of faster travel method than walking.

A cold wind whistled through my ears, blocking all other sounds. I needed to find some warmer clothing, too. The daylight hours could fry eggs on the pavement, but the following night could still freeze an Eskimo; especially so with winter approaching. I tucked the map back into my bag and resumed course.

Out of nowhere, a low rumble charged up behind me and in a fraction of a second, I lay face down on the pavement. Instead of pain, I felt numb and cold. My mind clambered over the information, spinning and writhing trying to figure out what had happened. Two voices slowly gained volume, but my brain was too busy tripping over itself to make sense of anything. Another rumble faded in, then stopped with a shudder. My brain rendered the image of a vehicle. Had I been hit by a car?

“What happened?” A woman said, slamming a squeaky car door. Her voice was musical, and had a quality that reminded me of fresh lemonade on a summer's day, but still carried the tone of authority. I forced open my eyes to look up at her as she approached. My gaze met fiery red hair, vivid green eyes, and skin as white as milk. A man in black leather stepped between us, holding up his weapon. “There'll be no scavenging here, miss.” he threatened, just as my eyes fell upon the red and black tattoos that marked her forearm. Vampire.

“Sugar,” her sweetness had turned sour, “ I'm here to help. I've been in medicine longer than you been a twinkle in your mama's eyes.” She pushed past him with a glare as he holstered the gun. I shifted myself, trying to sit up, but she put a hand firmly on my back. “Nuh-uh,” she smiled solftly, “you need to stay down. My name is Velvet, and I'm a doctor. Do you know what happened?” Her voice was warm and soothing, coated in a thick, southern drawl. “Yeah.” My own voice was weak and shaky. She gently pressed the vertebrae in my neck. “What's your name?” Her green eyes glazed over; she was no doubt using magic to ascertain my condition. “A-Aldrich,” I sounded stronger that time. “My name is Aldrich Cross.” She giggled softly, “What a fine name, Mr. Cross. Very dapper.” She leaned in close to my ear in a swift, sudden movement, “Mr. Cross, don't panic, but these fine people” she jerked her head in the direction of the couple, “intended on eating you.” My eyes went wide in horror. “I'm going to pick you up in a moment, it'll hurt for a second, but ignore it.” She slid her arm under mine. On a count of three, she lifted me to my feet, and I almost screamed. “Deep breath.” she hissed, dragging me in towards an old Ford truck.

“Hey now,” A young woman with a baby shouted stepping in our direction, “I don't think he'd wanna go with someone like you.” I turned to reply, but the tightening of Velvet's grasp closed my mouth. “I'm sitting him somewhere other than the ground, and giving him some painkillers.” The smile she gave them stopped both of them cold. She sat me in the bed, and wrapped a bandage tightly around my chest and shoulders, and another around my leg. She winked at me, and before I had proper time to register the prick of the needle, a wave of calm and relief I didn't know I needed washed over me. With a gentle shove, she slid me further into the truck bed. “Hold on tight.” In a flash of vampiric speed, she had the truck started and moving before the cannibal family could blink. Their angry shouts were replaced by the sounds of wind and road. Adrenaline faded and I crumpled into an aching heap. As I blacked out, a question rang through my mind: Am I any safer with her?

I awoke in a small, but warm space. My body throbbed, and I groaned, trying to move. “Don't move yet, sugar.” I registered Velvet tending a fire on the other side of the room. I lay back and look at the ceiling, unwilling to disobey a vampire. The walls gracefully curved into the ceiling, which was covered in rings that radiated out from the center of the room. I moved my head around, and gasped in amazement. This room was carved out of an enormous tree. Everything in it was masterfully crafted out of the solid trunk, including the small set of stairs in the corner that led upwards. She strode towards me, and placed a hand on my forehead. I felt the sensation of something releasing. She looked me square in the face, “Tell me how much this hurts.” Her other hand gave my calf a squeeze, and I winced at the twinge of pain that shot through my whole body.

“Well,” she released me rubbing her hands together, “that's better than I expected.” I didn't want to know what worse was, but before I could protest, she swung my legs over the edge of the chaise, and forced me to my feet. Worse didn't begin to describe this. I let out a cry as my legs buckled. “Come on now,” she caught me before I'd fallen more than an inch, “it's not that bad. The spell mended most of it; it's just sore now. It'll pass.” She helped me limp over to the polished dining set for two, where a plate of meat, nuts, berries, and unfamiliar greens waited. By the time I was seated, most of the pain had subsided. She sat across from me, a glass of dark liquid in her hand. I tried not to look at it. She smirked and took a long sip, “It's just wine. You can have some if you want.” Her shimmering green eyes glanced at me sideways, then at the plate in front of me; a silent command to eat.

I took a bite of the meat. It tasted light and savory, seasoned gently with garlic and pepper. Well, there goes that myth, I joked to myself. Velvet snorted, like she'd read my thoughts. I swallowed hard. “How did you know they wanted to eat me?” I put my fork down,looking up at her with wide eyes. “I'm old. I know things.” She took another long sip, her glass almost empty. “D-did you...” I stammered. Mind reading was powerful magic. Powerful and dangerous. Another smirk. “No, I don't care to read minds. I do, however, read body language very well.” She poured another glass and offered the bottle to me. When I refused, she shrugged and took a swig from it before re-corking it. “That, and the fact he mowed you over on purpose.” We sat in awkward silence for several minutes as she stared at me from over the top of her wineglass, blinking slowly.

I was horrified. I hadn't expected there to be anyone still living the that stretch desert, let alone cannibals. “Oh yeah,” she casually poured more wine, “they're everywhere. People are avoiding the big cities now, so they've turned to hunting elsewhere.” I buried my face in my hands. If they cannibals roamed lonely stretches of desert highway, what was keeping them from raiding the compound? Shaking, I grasped the locket, the other hand tangled in my hair.

She shook her head. “I wouldn't, if I were you.” I straightened in my chair. “Wh-what?” “I wouldn't leave;” she said casually, “we're in the middle of the woods, for one, and you can barely walk for another.” She looked away and drank more wine, “Now, eat. I don't appreciate my hard work going to waste.” I remembered the food in front of me. I took a few more careful bites, but after the third one, a ravenous burst of hunger convinced me to scarf it down as quickly as possible. I all but licked the plate clean, feelin full and satisfied, until the recognition of her words turned my stomach.

She sat up sharply, hearing the increase in my heart rate. “M-mi-middle of....? Wh-where...?” I struggled to breathe. Her jaw twitched, “The redwood forest, in northern California.” Her words were slow and deliberate, but it still took me ages to understand. I must have fainted or something, because I ended up in her arms with no idea how I got there. Frustration, anger, and fear welled and expanded.  Something whined in a high pitch somewhere, giving me a headache. She just blinked at me. How could she do this? California? I needed to get the medications they needed and get back to them. Now, even if I could get to a safe city, I might not make it back in time. The squealing kept intensifying, building pressure and contorting my face until I couldn't hold it in anymore. I jumped up, grabbing the nearest object, and swung at her, screeching profanity.

She caught my arm mid-swing, and pinned me against the side of the hearth, the sharp stones digging into my back. “I saved your sorry ass, sweetheart. You don't bite the hand that feeds.” She spoke far to pleasantly for her eyes to have turned such a steely gray.

“I have to get back! They'll die without me! You cost me val-” She cut off my airway, lifting me off the ground by the neck. She growled in the back of her throat, her lips curling at the sound of my gasping.

Then, she just dropped me and turned away like nothing. I lay on the floor, choking and sputtering, trying to get enough air to banish the stars from my vision. Slowly, she inched around to look at me. “Your family has the plague?” Her complexion took on a gray tone. I nodded, tears forming. She shook her head slowly, “You've already been here a month.” Immediately, my eyes shot to the ouroboros tattooed on her forearm, but it remained still. She was telling the truth. Blackness swallowed me whole.

I woke from a terrifying dream I couldn't quite remember. A large, black cauldron boiled ominously. Jars filled with wicked-looking substances covered every inch of flat surface. For the first time in days, Velvet was sitting at the table, drinking her wine. “What are you doing?” I looked back at the fire. “Canning.” Her tone was brisk, suggesting she knew I wasn't actually asking about that. She knew I wanted to die. I had yelled it enough times this past week while she hid in the upper level.

She grabbed me by the wrist, forcing me to follow her. “Come on.” She dragged me out the ornate door, into the freezing snow. I cried out, shocked by the cold teeth biting at my bare extremities. “Keep moving, you weenie. It's not that cold.” Velvet steered me towards a large hill, wrenching open the narrow door set into its base. She motioned for me to descend into the dark first. When I hesitated she rolled her eyes, “Got somewhere else to be?” Slowly, I marched past her. She nodded,   “Right then,” she sniffed, “this is the root cellar; AKA where all the food is.” She gave a small flick of her hand, lighting a large chandelier made from antlers, and let the door slam shut behind us.

Vegetables of all variety hung from the ceiling in large bunches, including some I couldn't identify. Rows upon rows of jars sat on tall shelves, their contents gleaming in the candlelight. A pile of bones and fur loomed in one corner. I sighed, “Is this where you'll do it then?” She cocked her head in confusion for a moment, then a wry smile spread it's way across her lips. “Do what? Eat you?” Her sides heaved and her eyes twinkled with silent laughter. “Sugar,” without warning, one of her hands wrapped around my waist from behind, and the other held my jaw, “you're too cute for that.” I gulped. Her scent was intoxicating. A thin, alabaster finger traced the length of my neck and I shuddered.

Velvet burst into howling giggles. She was playing with me. My face flushed and I turned away from her. When she reigned in her composure, she patted me on the head and pulled my arm in the other direction. “Help me carry this stuff.” She handed me a few jars of fruits, a bundle of fragrant herbs, and a white box with a red cross on it. She slung a burlap sack over one shoulder, and scooped up a smaller sack and a bottle of wine in her other arm. She motioned for me to start climbing the steps before her. “Keep in mind, you can't get in here without me to release the spell on the door. I don't trust you not to take my food and run.”

“I promise I will never feed you anything God didn't intend for you to eat.” She stirred chunks of venison around in a broth over the hearth. The heavy pot rested atop bright red coals, blackened from use. “Uh, thanks?” I wasn't sure what that meant. She dished out two bowls of the soup and sat down, sliding one to me. “So...” I calculated my words, “Are you letting me stay here indefinitely, then?” “Of course,” she said with her mouth full, “or I wouldn't have shown you the cellar. There's another bedroom upstairs you can use.” I sat quietly thinking for a moment. “Why?” I asked her. There was absolutely no reason to invite strangers into your home in this day and age unless something was to be gained. She put her spoon down, the insufferable smugness back on her face, “I told you, you're cute.” She reached out and pinched my cheek. “Besides,” she poured herself wine, “I need a big, strong boy around here.” There was an air of mocking in her tone, but she didn't lie. She needed me, apparently. The thought of what for made me uncomfortable. Satisfaction broadened her grin, and she sauntered up the stairs, wine in hand.