Blood Ties (NaNoWriMo 2015)

Thirty-Seven

When it came to the end of the night and it was time to make some supper and wind down for the day, I was given directions to a new set of rooms via Doc who told me that Archie was going to be just fine. He'd just gone too many days without feeding and it had finally caught up with him. I was glad to hear it, not only that he'd be okay, but for the explanation Doc provided. Being hungry and deprived of nutrients could make people act crazy, it would explain all his ramblings which had been replaying creepily in my head all night.

I entered the rooms, which were fairly similar to my last living quarters except it lacked a kitchen and the walls were painted a pastel blue instead of grey. I shrugged off my coat, which was still on even though I'd stopped being cold a few hours ago. I opened the closet, surprised and pleased to find that my clothes had been moved in already. I was thankful for that, I did not want to stay in these slightly smelly and blood stained clothing I currently had on.

I stripped and grabbed a set of shorts and a black sweatshirt from the closet, pausing as I noticed how big the fabric was. At first, I was confused, every article of clothing in this closet was my size, why was this so huge? Then I remembered the day the sniper came, I'd been cold and Damon had given me his sweatshirt.

The memory made me blush a little and I slipped into the bathroom and was glad to find the shower was the same as the one in my former living quarters. I stood under the hot spray, thankful that my body wasn't aching and sore the way it should have been. Vampire bites did seem to work wonders, as I rubbed some body wash onto my arms and noticed I had four tiny pinpricks on my opposite wrist now. This was the second time Damon had left a scar on my body, both from bites and both done for different reasons. One to save my life, the other to save his.

I winced, recalling all the terrible burns across his body. I was happy I'd done what I'd done, let him bite me to help him recover. I knew not all of his injuries had healed, I recalled all too well some spots that must have hit fourth degree burns, those hadn't fully healed. I wondered if he'd have any scaring...I turned off the water and dried off before changing into my shorts and Damon's sweatshirt. I noticed that his scent was still stuck on the soft black fabric. That mix of pencils, metal, blood and some kind of cologne. On a one-to-one scale, I probably wouldn't have liked those scents as much as I did right now, but together, I liked them quiet a bit.

I plopped onto the couch and rested my head against the arm rest. Once again I'd had another frightening and insane night. A vampire had tried to stab me the day before and I'd watched Damon nearly get burned alive, shoved him into my closet, been bit by a vampire again and then kissed by that vampire. Then sat around a table while  friends and foes discussed who was after me and how to best deal with it, then abducted by a vampire priest who performed some kind of ritual and came to the conclusion that their goddess had "chosen" me for something. Damn it all I really just wanted a normal night for once.

I sat up, like I'd been hit by lightening, suddenly struck with an extreme need to write a list. I tore through my entertainment center and was happy to find a Post-It note pad as well as a stray, stubby pencil. Wishing it was a little sharper and knowing there was nothing I could do about it right now I sat down and scrawled my wishes on the tiny pad of paper.

1. Have a normal night

2. Find the culprit after Damon and I.

3. Stay alive

I looked at my tiny letters, feeling both heavy hearted and bright at the same time. Looking at what I'd written down on my wish list, seeing how different it was from what it would have been a month ago, broke some part of my heart. Had it been September, I'd have written graduate high school, get accepted to law school and become a lawyer, buy my mom a house and fall in love.  I had a feeling I'd have included other things, but those had always been my top four things that I'd wished and worked for. Now, my wishes weren't a thing close to that. I just wanted eight hours of normal, to find the person trying to kill me and remain alive through the process. The Ember Hawthorn I'd been before that night on the way to Johnsonvile was dead, replaced by someone different and that was where my happiness came from. I liked how much stronger I'd become, how much I'd tried to make a crappy situation better rather than wallow in anger and self-pity, how I'd been able to keep my cool even in the craziest of situations that had been thrown my way.