"Please, you have to let me use your phone!"
"I said we're closed, lady. Call the police at home."
The grandfather clock rung midnight over the clattering rain as the young girl did her best to close the shop door, but the woman was persistent.
"It'll only take five seconds. Please - I'm sure your manager won't mind."
Prying the woman's fingers from the threshold, the girl slammed the door shut, the bells above rattling over the click of the deadbolt lock.
Flipping the open sign to closed, the girl glared up to the woman. "I am the shop manager. Have a nice night." And with that, the girl shut the blinds.
Sighing when the woman's retreating footsteps faded, the young girl turned to examine the damage. The woman had been in such a hurry to use the store phone that she knocked over and broke a potted plant, scattered handwritten documents onto the dark gray concrete floor, and unplugged the computer at the front desk. All of which was of course an accident, but considering the time of day, a bit of incessant removal wasn't uncalled for.
After cleaning the pot shards and spilled soil, she collected the plant and repotted it into a currently in-use tin bucket for the time being. In the morning, she can isolate it again in its own soil just as she can reorganize a month's worth of paperwork then too.
Mixed papers back on the desk, she turned off the sun-lights, leaving the moon to light the crowded nursery through the overhead skylight roof.
Stifling a yawn, she shuffled through the back door - not minding the lingering vines that hung from above - and climbed the spiral steps to her loft. Another yawn escaped her lips as she crossed the dark living room, avoiding books like landmines as she passed the kitchen, and finally fell face first on her white comforter bed. The dim lights tangled in the hanging ivy vines did nothing to irritate her tired eyes but instead created a comforting and warm honey toned glow in the small upstairs apartment. The thought of changing into her pajamas crossed her mind, but she only got as far as taking off her jeans and sweatshirt before she surrendered to the darkness in her underwear and black tank top.
Sleep - it was dreamless, nothing but shadows to company her subconsciousness, but the feeling of unease never fails to make itself known upon awaking. This has been happening for three weeks straight now; fall asleep perfectly fine, dream of nothing, then wake up as if something bad were to happen any moment. She wasn't a stranger to anxiety, but the calm streets of Seattle, Washington was nothing to get worked up about.
Maybe I'm having bad dreams, she hugged her pillow closer, I can make something for that.
Grown use to the blinding overcast gray brightening her room through the glass ceiling, she laid in her cushion cloud bed for a little while longer. The sheets were tossed aside to hug against her back and left her purple underwear and riding up tank top to nonexistent eyes, but she could care less - her alarm still had yet to ring.
As if on cue, the grandfather clock downstairs started its chimes and she groaned - shoving her face into the side of her pillow. If only she could lay there for just a few more minutes. Sitting up while the clock dinged and donged seven times before growing quiet once again, she stretched her limbs - earning satisfying pops from her stiff joints. Finally opening her eyes to reveal speckled lavender lime green irises, she ran her slender fingers through her messy short black curls with a smile.
"Good morning everyone," her voice was light and wispy from just waking but it still reached its desired audience.
The hanging ivy vines coiled tighter around the now off lights before returning back to its natural position - the only response to her routine greeting, but the small gesture was greatly appreciated and she couldn't help but giggle every time.
Standing from her bed, she sighed with content, "I think I know what our next big project is," she stepped into the bathroom and started the bath, "I think you'll like it too."
After bathing and changing into light blue jeans and a grey tank top, she slipped the store apron over her head and tight it around her slender waist - making her way down the spiral stairs, through the back room, and to the front desk in time to pick up the phone on the first ring.
"Hello, this is Seattle's finest plant nursery - The Willow, how may I help you today?"
"Why good mornin' Sugar," a familiar thick southern accent brawled, "Is Ms. Clo Brook in today?"
The girl - formerly known as Clover Brook - smiled wide, "Peter, how's the Civil War fixin' ya, Soldier?"
He chuckled at her terrible impression of his speech, "Char's doin' fine" -she giggled- "more than fine, actually. We just received y'er gift."
"The flower crown won't ever wilt its petals or drain color."
"She loves it, Sugar."
"Good, because I put a lot of work into that potion just for her."
"I haven't a doubt. Ya always treat us right, Clo. Oh-sorry, Sugar. Pray awaits."
"See you," and with that, the phone call ended.
She sighed. Peter and Charlotte were one of the nicer nomadic vampires she's had the pleasure of crossing paths with; but when they first met, they were still trapped in Maria's meticulous plan to take over the Southern territory for herself. Clover was happy to step in back then to aid in ending her terror and even more so when she had the pleasure of accidentally finding the pair in another battle field and seeing how happy they were years latter. It's hard for her to keep track of their movement most times, but every few years they'll send a postcard from across the states or call the shop long distant just to check in. Fortunately, she was able to track their movements long enough to send Charlotte a birthday present. It was a few day late, but it still warmed her heart to know it got to its rightful place in a timely manner.
Plugging in her iPod into the desktop speaker, she turned on her Mozart and Beethoven playlist and got to a normal day's work. Grabbing the tall metal hook, Clover hooked it to the skylight latch and smoothly guided the wide window open, now, there was no middle roof to stop the light rain from trickling in. Letting nature water the hanging and floor plants, Clover busied herself with repotting the one from last night, as well as reorganizing the paperwork, and checking inventory.
After a little more than an three hours, Clover found herself at her desk - replugging in the computer - to order more Angel Trumpet flowers only to be distracted when her monitor finally came back online.
That's right, she thought, Riley Biers is missing.
Last night, before the woman came crashing in, Clover was doing research on current "animal" maulings around Charlotte and Peter's area to make sure they were there to receive her package today. But, then she found an intriguing article about ten times more vicious maulings here - Seattle - and they all followed after Riley Biers disappearance.
Staring at the monitor, she could only imagine the horrid events taking place in her own back yard - the same anxiety from this morning crept up her spine. "This can't be good."
The bells above the shop door rang, startling Clover enough to snap her gaze up to see a girl turn the sign from open to closed, turn the deadbolt, and shut the blinds. Clover watched as the girl spun where she stood and leaned against the door as if bracing for someone on the other side to try and break through.
Her copper skin was dripping from the gentle rain as her thin cornrowed hair swayed from her sharp movements, glasses puddled, chest heaving - Clover snapped from her subtle surprise in seeing her.
"Lily, what are you doing here-?"
"Sh!" Lily stalked forward, her finger against her lips and pleading in her eyes. Eve's never seen her so jittery. Before she knew it, Lily's cold fingers clamped around her wrist and dragged her away from her desk, "Not here."
Dragging her into the back room, up the staircase, and into Clover's secret laboratory, Lily finally let go and started to pace around the small room.
"Tell me what's wrong." Clover crossed her arms, ready to hear just what made her travel so far from home.
Lily didn't bother looking up as she laughed without humor, shook her head and bit her thumb - the green ring glistening as she chewed. "Oh Gods, what's right is a better question," and before Clover could reply, Lily looked straight into her green and purple irises with her own green ones. "There's a new Newborn on the loose causing havoc in your area. We have to leave, now, before it's too late."
"Wait, wait - slow down Lily. No one's going anywhere-"
"Yes, you have to!" Clover winced at the tight grip on her wrist, but the pain was forgotten with a peck on the lips. "Trust me, please. I don't want to see you get hurt."
