Four Flowers Part One: Iris

Never allow humans to gain knowledge of the Night World's existence

Chapter One:

Sara Desrosiers never thought of herself as brave, no one could accuse her of being anything other than average. At sixteen she was a small and unassuming, under the radar, and it was how she liked it.

Mia Carmichael sat cross-legged in Sara's swivel chair, twirling in lazy circles until her head began to spin. "Keith." She sighed.

A fringe tickled Sara's forehead and she moved the strands out of her eyes with impatient motions. "Keith?" She recoiled as the name cemented the image of the consummate creep in her mind. "Where did you meet him?"

Mia smiled up at her showing a perfect row of teeth. "The Devil's Claw."

"Mia-"

"Sara." Mia said with a weighty sigh puffing past her lips. "He's absolutely perfect and he says he loves me." She declared unperturbed. Mia was a girl desperate to fall in love, she saw it in every winning smile and in every whiff of aftershave.

"When did you meet him?"

"Yesterday."

"And let me guess…" Sara put a finger on her chin in a sarcastic pose. "He's a musician?"

"How did you know?"

"I must be psychic." Sara smiled blithely and adjusted her Buddy Holly glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Mia jumped out of her chair and grasped Sara's arm pulling her to her feet in the middle of her bedroom. "We're going out tonight." She declared.

White-hot panic infused Sara Desrosiers. "I can't." She clasped her hands together to disguise her trembling fingers.

Mia's fingertips dug into Sara's arm. "Please, Sara."

"There's no way you're getting me to The Devil's Claw."

"Please, Sara."

Sara pushed her fringe back impatiently from her eyes and her eyes flew wildly from one end of the room to another as she mumbled. "I have a ton of calculus homework and besides my parents would kill me if they ever knew-"

"So would mine." Mia asserted and leaned her head against Sara's arm, blinking up at her. "He's bringing a friend along."

"Oh please, spare me."

"His name is Jerôme and he plays guitar too." As if the guitar were a kind of compelling totem but Sara Desrosiers was terrified of public displays, horrified by the thought of dozens of expectant eyes on her face, hating the ruby red humiliation of being exposed.

When Mia saw she wasn't getting through to her friend she took both of her hands. "Some people, like you, will get good grades go off to an ivy league college and have a prominent career, meet the guy of your dreams and rake in a million dollars a year and other people, like me, have to bank on marrying a rock star."

"Please, he said not to come alone."

"That's not creepy." She murmured.

"Sara." Mia admonished and stared shrewdly at her friend. "Do something adventurous for once."

Two hours later Sara was clothed in black jeans, black heels and her comfortable oversized black hoodie, shivering in the queue that formed round the block for The Devil's Claw. Her dark hood pulled low over eyes to disguise her face in case her pastor drove by. Mia chattered on about her mystery musician and the gleaming future ahead of them when Sara noted two men walking toward them, they were talking in low tones, one seemed to be coercing the other and she caught the end of their conversation. "...C'mon it'll be easy chow, J."

Sara gritted her teeth as they stood almost toe to toe. The blond one, Keith she presumed, grabbed Mia and kissed her as if the cameras were rolling and Sara's brows shot up and she turned away vaguely embarrassed. Mia had been right, Keith was gorgeous, tall and slender muscled with a tousle of blond hair and eyes a remarkable shade of pale grey. Yes, good looking and he knew it and it made her like him less than she already did.

Her cheeks were still pink when her eyes flicked to his friend, the guitar-player, he was also good looking though his head was shaved and light bounced off his high cheekbones and glinted from silver ring in his nostril. "You must be Jerôme." She said. "I'm Sara."

His eyes were green jewels like crushed emerald emitting facets of light, his stare was intense making her feel very young and completely out of her depth. She was instantly annoyed.

"Jerôme this is Sara." Keith chuckled under his breath and nudged Jerôme forward before returning to Mia's lips.

Jerôme grunted indifferently, his eyes moved away, it was clear he was not interested and she could only think if they made this brief she could probably get home in time to finish her calculus assignment. "Pleasure." She muttered thrusting fists into her pockets. He ignored her for the rest of the time they queued and she struggled to ignore him, noticing from the corner of her eye his fingers twitch as if stretching across guitar strings and he swayed near imperceptibly back and forth to a beat in his head.

When they were ushered into the club they made a beeline to the back and Sara was intimidated by the dark, the press of bodies the fragrant stench of alcohol and sweat. She saw Mia wave and disappear with Keith toward the couches pressed against the far wall. "You look frightened." Jerôme murmured his breath hot against her ear.

Before she had time to retort he was greeted enthusiastically by figures standing beyond the strobe lighting and he spun into the crush of bodies leaving her with gritted teeth and burning cheeks.

Loud, aggressive music blared from the speakers mounted in every corner. She tried to catch sight of someone in the crowd, it was hard to decipher the fullness of the features, the bodies, there were too many of them, but she saw enough to know they were beautiful and all too young to be mistaken for being twenty-one. Someone, Mia, pressed a plastic cup into her hand and she drank it in one swig; it was bitter and not right on her tongue and making a face she dropped the cup to the ground and it was kicked to and fro by passers-by.

She tripped, pushed and shove to the ladies room and when she erupted into the room she was relived to find it empty. She gripped the porcelain sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses.

"Ever heard of contacts?" A girl asked materialising beside her with a mascara wand in one hand.

"Excuse me?"

"You should have worn contacts." The girl said again and used the tip of her wand to tap the lenses of Sara's right eye. "Are you here with Jerôme? Those things are a boner kill, you know?"

Sara strode out of the ladies room and the girl's mocking laughter followed her. Her fingers curled into two fists in an attempt to defy the trembling that took hold of her hands. She was unaware she was being watched, deaf to the roaring music and blind to the bodies that shoved and pushed.

Cold fingers closed around her wrist and she was pulled off balance, colliding against the hard wall and staring up at jewel-fire green eyes. Jerôme's lips were parted and her eyes were drawn to the succulent lower lip and the glimpse of his lower teeth. He braced one hand on the wall above her head and leaned in until she could feel his breath mist against her glasses. "You must be desperate coming in here." He whispered.

There was a split second before he spoke when she had been ready to dissolve into a pulsing hormone, her desires unable to move past his breath, his lips those eyes. "You're fucking kidding." She muttered under her breath and ducked under his arm striding away from him. "It was nice to meet you." She said without glancing back raising her hand to wave goodbye.

Moments later she stood over Mia. "Mia, we've got to go."

Mia detached herself for a moment to gasp. "Not yet."

"Now." Sara said and her tone would brook no refusal; Keith glared up at her and for a terrifying instant his eyes turned silver with hatred.

"Where's Jerôme?" He asked huskily.

"No idea. Mia why don't you put your panties back on like a good girl." Grasping Mia's arm she marched them toward the car and drove her best friend home in silence. "You'll thank me when you're sober." She assured her as she slammed the car door. Sara was shivering with rage; she sat for several moments trying to control her breath before she gunned the engine and drove back to her house. Stepping out of her car, she was glad for the silence of the night, the empty street in the sleepy neighbourhood. She headed up the paved path toward home, digging in her pocket for her set of keys that fell out of trembling fingers and she had to bend down to feel around in the dark.

When she stood she found Keith standing like a wall of flesh in front of her.

"Keith?" She gasped.

He didn't speak though his lips moved in soundless paroxysms and his grey eyes bore into her flaring into a bright silver radiance, like an animal throwing back light. She took an instinctive step backward and instant before he rushed at her. Teetering on her heels she fell, a scream wrenched from her throat and she glimpsed through strands of her fringe, his face become inhuman, sharp teeth like twin sabres flashed in the darkness.

He fell on top of her, her glasses flew from her face, his hand took a fistful lof her hair and pulled forcing her to arch her throat to him and those terrible teeth struck, ripping into the flesh between throat and shoulder. He drew back with a hiss, her blood staining his chin in bright rivulets. She saw the look of pure white-hot hatred and fevered hunger as he prepared to lunge again.

She closed her eyes anticipating the impact of those eye teeth.

She felt…nothing, just an icy swathe of air and she opened her eyes, a shuddering breath erupted from her mouth.

The blurry image of Jerome - though his jewel fire eyes remained bright enough to see even in the darkness, even without her glasses - he was towering above her and she watched whilst he knelt, gently replacing her glasses over her eyes and then he put his finger into his mouth and bit down to draw blood, she gasped as he smeared his bleeding fingertip on her shoulder and winced as his fingertip slid into the meat of her wound.

When he had coated her in blood he put his stained finger between his lips and sucked it clean. He stood and offered his hand and she found herself grasping it, frightened how small her hand looked in his, how cold his hand felt as he pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion.

She snatched her hand back from him. "Stay away from me." She said tremulously and ran into the safety of her house, slamming the door between them.

Miss S