Chapter 5.

Maine, 1952.

Alice mulled around for hours before she gave up.

"I must have gotten the timing wrong," she said, giving the park another long look, like a tenth bout of lingering hopefulness would summon a family of vampires.

Jasper said, "Perhaps you should try looking for them again."

She shut her eyes, too despondent to do a proper job. She pouted. "Maybe we should wait a few more weeks and see if they show up."

"You can't narrow down the timing any further?"

She glared at him.

Jasper laughed. "Alright. Easy."

She was silent the whole trip back to their new home. Alice was sitting on a stack of money, having spent years using her abilities to win bets and invest, so when she saw their future family visiting this small town in northern Maine, she purchased a large house to prepare. It had six bedrooms, a backyard with a high wooden fence, and a long, winding driveway – so tucked into the pines that it was nearly part of the forest. Jasper found it oddly charming. Despite the almost opposite climate, it reminded him of his human life. He was born to think that homes should be sprawling, open, warm in the dead of winter.

Alice had gotten it wrong, though. Something changed and pushed the vision further out. It was still the same place, the same family, but the timing fluctuated. Alice clung to it stubbornly, insisting that she could pin it down, and for weeks they had visited this park in an effort to intercept the new arrivals.

Jasper felt bad for her, but at the same time her failure was a relief for him. He told her he was ready to meet these vampires, but as their time as a pair grew short, Jasper began to grieve. He hid his sadness from Alice, careful not to let it influence his behavior, but it seemed the best days of either of his lives might soon come to an end – thrust into an unknown future.

It was a relief that Alice could not see everything, could not know everything.

She stomped up the front steps, turning to point a finger at him, "I don't want to hear it. So, if you have any further comments on my prediction, please keep them to yourself."

Jasper twisted his lips, resisting teasing her. Situations like this were difficult for Alice, who was so confident in herself. She knew that he could feel her embarrassment, her uncertainty, and he could also feel how frightening they were for her. She never wanted to appear weak, despite being aware of every weakness Jasper had. He hung on her every word, her every smile, and he disliked the way she tried to hide her failures from him.

It was no use trying to negotiate with her in this state, so Jasper turned on the television, just in time to catch the beginning of a boisterous little variety show. It was a strange hobby of his, keeping up with the performers and figureheads that appeared on the show. For the past week, the show had presented musicians, covering various genres, and then guests would discuss their progress through the years. He was being entertained and educated simultaneously.

His mate did not join him.

She paced the expansive living room, up and down the stairs, in and out of the kitchen, the dining room. Sometimes she pretended her abilities were situational, like the antennas on a television, when they both knew her desperation to find an answer only made it worse when she failed. Her growing agitation charged the room.

"Sweetheart," Jasper said, reaching out to stop her as she passed his chair, "Come watch."

Alice halfheartedly resisted, "What if we miss them arriving, Jazz? I want it all to be a surprise."

"Everything with you is a surprise."

She groaned.

"Listen to this new music."

"I don't want to hear it." Alice went back into the kitchen, returned, lingered at the front door. It was uncommon for their kind to fidget, but Alice was very close to it. Her restlessness put him on edge, as if the urgency was his own.

Jasper tried to focus on the show, hoping she would give in, but when she stayed by the door he said, "Surely you'll see it when they decide to come here."

He felt a flash of something in her, which was so quickly concealed that Jasper strained to identify it. Alice said, "I'll go to the park for a while." He moved to join her, but she added, "Alone."

Jasper was stung. Her disappointment was more profound than he imagined. She never wanted to be alone. He quelled the strong instinct to follow her, reasoning that the park was mere miles away and Alice could take care of herself. Even such a short distance felt like an ocean.

When he was alone, the atmosphere was very different. Jasper was rarely without her vivid emotions and his own were rather dim in comparison. Quiet, thoughtful. Alice stood out amongst all other creatures, even the most boisterous of humans, and she had driven many shadows out of him this past year. Not all of them. Jasper leaned on her heavily.

He debated following her, uncertain, trying to weigh his needs against what she wanted.

A knock came at the door.

Jasper stared in that direction, baffled. Their home was far off the beaten trail, far in the north of town. It was a little too far for curious human neighbors to trek. And he didn't hear a heartbeat, or smell rushing blood. No shuffling, no breathing.

What he felt emanating from the door was… familiar.

"You gonna let me in, boss?"

Jasper was at the door in seconds, nearly pulling it off the hinges in his haste. Peter was on the other side, his mate Charlotte just behind him. It had been decades, but it felt like days when Peter smiled. He had a young face, white-blonde hair, so similar to Jasper that they could have been brothers in another life. Charlotte was much shorter than them, smaller, bookish in her human life. She was unassuming, but Peter had fallen for her, and in doing that he changed all of their lives – he freed Jasper from a prison he never knew he was in. Both of them did, together.

"You look good," Peter said, grinning, wrapping Jasper in a tight hug.

In some ways, Peter was similar to Alice, more easygoing and affectionate than a typical vampire – but he was also a southerner, and that was undoubtedly part of his upbringing.

Peter kicked off his shoes and strolled into the house, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

Charlotte touched Jasper gently on the arm as she passed him, "You do look better, Jasper."

He shut the door, watching his old companions tour his new home. It was disorienting. His life with Alice was the polar opposite of his time as a soldier, and sometimes he fantasized that the rest of it never occurred – as if he was waiting in a void until Alice strolled up to take his hand.

Peter walked the whole house, turning back to Jasper when he made it to the couch. He squinted, "Your eyes. What's that?"

Jasper had forgotten. He felt a glimmer of pride that, despite his slipups, his eyes were recognizably different. "I made some… lifestyle changes."

"I can see that," Peter gestured around the house. "Domestic."

"Yes."

Peter was clearly aware that Alice had been in the house. He looked around expectantly, breathing deeply, trailing her scent. Charlotte seemed uneasy, uncertain. She was no fighter.

Alice must have seen them coming. It would explain that sudden something she felt before she left the house, what she hid from him. But why would she leave before they arrived? He had a painful moment to consider that Alice didn't want to associate with them, with the darkest part of his life – and then he shut the thought down. No. She must have wanted him to have some time alone with his old companions.

Jasper said, "My mate has stepped out for the time being."

Peter gave the biggest, most genuine smile Jasper had ever seen on him. His emotions radiated, lending truth to his words, "I'm happy for you."

Charlotte also smiled, "I would love to meet them. Will they be returning soon…?"

"No matter," Peter cut in, "If it's alright with you, boss, I'd love to stick around. I want to hear about these lifestyle changes of yours. If you'll have us, of course."

Jasper didn't hesitate, "Of course. You're welcome here." He remembered, a moment later, that they were not on the same diet. He said, "Only, please hunt outside of this town while you're here. We don't want to draw unnecessary attention. We intend to stay here for some time."

"Strange," Peter said. "Yes, we won't hunt nearby. What exactly do you intend to do while living here?"

It was a question Jasper should have anticipated, but he never prepared for it. Alice had explained her affection for humankind many times over the years, expecting Jasper to adopt the same feelings. He had come around, in some ways, but she knew that his association with humans was purely for her happiness. Alice was unique, very far out of line from the rest of their kind.

"It's difficult to explain. Perhaps we should have a seat."

Jasper took his time deciding what to say, how much to divulge. He trusted Peter and Charlotte, a rare thing for him, and so he settled on the most straightforward answer.

"Alice and I feed exclusively on animal blood, rather than humans. She wishes to associate with them and she enjoys their lifestyle, so we purchased this home and intend to become part of this community, until such time passes that our lack of aging is noticed."

Peter was seated in the claw-footed chair next to the couch, watching Jasper intently, pouring over his words. A range of emotions stirred in him, none of them hostile or judgmental. It was his simple kindness that originally drew Jasper to Peter. He was a rare soul, hardly capable of cruelty, forming no spiteful plans, holding no grudges.

Finally, Peter said, "She enjoys them?"

Jasper nodded.

"And you?"

"Wherever she goes, I go."

Peter was still baffled, but he kept it to himself. He returned to his reverie, sitting back in the chair, one hand holding onto his chin.

Charlotte had taken a seat next to Jasper on the couch, her emotions offering little insight into her opinion. She had always been rather muted, experiencing things more abstractly. Jasper found it hard to grasp.

She said, "Why would you feed on animals rather than hunting further out, like you asked us to?"

Jasper teetered between two explanations – morality and convenience.

Peter answered before he could speak, "Well, it makes your eyes change, doesn't it, Jasper?"

Jasper was relieved to have the choice made for him. "Yes. Having red eyes can be rather… conspicuous." He might breach the topic later, to learn what Peter and Charlotte thought of his peculiar new lifestyle, but he was satisfied for now. "Mine are still a work in progress."

XxXxX

It had come around to dusk again.

Jasper became restless waiting for Alice to return. His former companions occupied themselves in the house, finding curiosity and wonder in the little hobbies that Alice had picked up. Charlotte admired her paintings, tried to do some of her own. Peter joined Jasper watching the television, commenting on various other technological advances he had seen since they were soldiers in the 1800s. He had been all over the United States and he had an opinion about every town.

"It was my favorite," Peter was saying, finishing up a long story about a little town in Arkansas. "I found this old plantation, way back in the woods. Just needed a little love."

"I'm not living in Arkansas," Charlotte said, not looking up from her canvas. Her tone suggested this conversation had occurred too many times already.

Peter shrugged, "Anyway, we should visit it sometime. You'd probably think the same thing. Just a classic southern home."

Alice came through the door precisely then.

She paused to let their guests notice her, and then joined Jasper by the couch. He rose to meet her, wrapping himself in her vibrant feelings like he had gone a long winter without a jacket. Her affection washed through him.

Alice spared a moment to look up at Jasper, capturing him in those stunning gold eyes, and then she turned her charm on their guests, "It's lovely to meet you. I'm Alice."

Peter gave Jasper an incredulous look, and then responded, "Even lovelier to meet you, Alice."

Her peculiarities were immediately noticed. Jasper monitored the emotions of his guests, because despite trusting Peter and Charlotte with his own life, he trusted no one when it came to Alice. Her cool confidence, her mystical aura, her unusual sweetness – it took the two vampires by surprise. Peter was confused, surprised, and then suddenly delighted. Charlotte was weary, but as her mate relaxed, so did she.

"Strange," Peter said quietly, and then caught himself, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. I'm just acclimating to your… way of life, out here. Jasper described it to us when we arrived."

"I can elaborate," Alice offered. "We don't hunt humans. Our family lives among them."

Peter glanced at his mate, then back at Jasper, "Family?"

A flare of alarm, of uncertainty.

Alice spoke before Jasper, "Yes. Five others. They should be on their way soon."

Jasper reacted quickly to dim the fear in Charlotte. Vampires did not typically accumulate in large groups. When the three of them were together, they never encountered a coven of more than three vampires, let alone seven. Charlotte was no doubt thinking of their origins, of the army they were born into. While he used his abilities to soothe her, he said, "Ours is an unusual life. I hope it doesn't turn you away from me."

Alice was smiling, clearly not concerned about Charlotte's apprehension.

"No, no." Peter studied Alice for a moment longer. "No. We owe you our lives, Jasper. However you choose to live is your decision alone. I only want you to be happy, finally."

"You met while you were in Mexico, didn't you?" Alice said, rather innocently.

Peter smiled an old, troubled smile, "Yes. He hasn't told you that story?"

"He keeps some things to himself," Alice responded, with a reproachful glance at him.

Jasper gave his mate a long look, wondering what she meant. He had left some things out, but nothing he considered important. She knew the worst parts of his past already.

"Am I permitted to talk about it?" Peter asked.

Jasper shrugged, "Go ahead."

His story was not what Jasper expected.

It began in his second life, following a familiar path. Jasper had been there when Peter was reborn. It was an unusually peaceful time, and so Peter had been alive for longer than most other soldiers. He spoke of how he, like Jasper, believed that war was all there could be. Jasper listened with renewed interest to the way he fell in love with Charlotte, how he tried to protect her from the culling, how he tried to ask Jasper several times to keep a few of the newborns. Jasper had been oblivious to it, numb to it. He would have killed Charlotte the same as any other soldier.

"I tried not to mention her, specifically," Peter said. When she came into the story, Peter had put his arm around Charlotte, holding on like the memories were still dangerous. "When the time came, I panicked. I knew you would kill me for running. I never imagined you would let me go."

Jasper said, "I liked you."

"Of course you did. I'm very charming."

Jasper smiled. He was uncertain of his answer. Did he like Peter at the time? Was he even capable? Or was the sudden betrayal just a point of interest in a long, bleak life? Jasper had not analyzed the way he felt that day, the reason he just watched as Peter ran away with Charlotte.

His uncertainty must have been palpable. Alice slipped her arm into his.

Peter went on, "I never stopped thinking about you. Until then, I thought you were very much like Maria, but she's incapable of mercy – of love. Charlotte is so much different than all of us were," he gave his mate a long, warm look, "And we found a much better life, things I never imagined. Freedom that seemed impossible. I had to give you the chance to see it, too. And to your credit, you didn't even hesitate." He looked at Alice now, emphasizing, "It wasn't who he was, not really. Neither of us had a chance to see another way."

"I know," Alice responded sweetly, squeezing Jasper's arm.

Jasper said, "I should have left sooner. Perhaps a wiser man would have."

"I'm sure you would have, if you'd known you had this pretty lady waiting for you."

Jasper looked down at Alice, finding her big, golden eyes on his face. He had wondered if she would judge his past actions, his coldness, but she only seemed worried. He must be projecting his emotions. Jasper had never mastered that aspect of his abilities. He could make others feel what he wanted, trap them in their despairs, turn them into a functional army, but when he was not consciously doing anything, the things he felt emanated. It was a double-edged sword. Jasper could strip his enemies down, but he also laid himself bare.

"Yes," Jasper said, giving Alice a kiss on the forehead.

Alice said, "Have you told them about me?"

"Shouldn't you know that?"

She smiled and turned that charming expression on their guests. "I see flashes, glimpses of the future. I know we have a family, but we haven't met them yet."

A brief, thoughtful silence, and then Peter said, "You're talented, like Jasper."

"Yes," Alice said. "I saw him in my future before we ever met."

"She was waiting for me in a diner in Philadelphia," Jasper said.

"I'm mentioning it now because I just saw a change of plans," Alice said. "It looks like we're going to be traveling together for a time."

Peter laughed, "I guess that settles it, boss."

Alice spoke to Jasper, "It looks like they'll be here next winter. I see snow on the ground. I'll hire a maid to keep the house clean until we return."

Charlotte was emanating apprehension again, less free-willed than her mate. Jasper prepared to soothe her, but before he could, Alice had turned those brilliant eyes on her. "Don't worry. We'll be friends. I've seen it."

Sometimes she didn't realize how unnerving her abilities could be.

XxXxX

"What do you think?"

Jasper walked through the foyer, taking in the old, dusty wooden floor, the cracked walls, the hand-crafted ceiling. Someone had gone to the trouble of carving and assembling hundreds, if not thousands, of small wooden planks, arranging them in cascading patterns across the entire bottom floor of the house. Jasper found himself following them, wondering when and why this beautiful place had been abandoned.

"It needs sweeping," Jasper said, finally answering Peter. He had just crossed into the solarium, whose walls were made almost entirely of broken windows. Rotten benches ringed the room. Vines had overwhelmed much of the original design, but Jasper could picture what it used to be. Powder-blue walls, potted plants, a bird singing in a wrought-iron cage.

Peter ran his hand over one of the old chairs, "You see what I mean, right?"

"Yes, I see it." Southern architecture. It was so similar to the American west that Jasper could pretend they were in Texas at that very moment. A few things differed – like the ceiling – but some details were uncanny. Arkansas was a curious place to find it. Peter was right to be enamored.

Peter walked ahead, gazing up through a hole in the ceiling, "It's like I'm a child again."

Jasper enjoyed his enthusiasm, preferring to let it paint his thoughts in the same way he did when he was around Alice. "You and I had very different lives."

"You're much older," Peter reasoned. "What year were you born?"

"1844."

Peter whistled. "You see, I was born in the golden year of 1925. Prosperous. Peaceful." He grinned, slapped Jasper on the shoulder as he led the way into the next room.

"A golden year if you squint, perhaps," Jasper said. He rarely picked at his human memories, finding little meaning in them, but this home tour brought them back into focus. "I lived on a small farm."

"I lived in a large house like this one. I think it was a perfect life." Peter spread his arms in the library, "I would have chosen this room."

Jasper picked through the mostly ruined books, unable to read the titles.

"We never felt the depression," Peter went on. "Or, if we did, I never knew about it. I was only nineteen when I ran into Maria."

Jasper could relate to that. He was the same age, climbing the ranks in the Confederate army. It was no wonder they got along so well, despite the gap in their true ages. Jasper also understood, now, why their personalities differed so profoundly. Jasper had grown up poor, needing to prove himself, as professional and passionate as he could be. He respected his superiors, appreciated every promotion, always aware that his position could be taken from him at any moment. Stoic, strong, unflinching. Peter had grown up with the freedom to dream, to question, though those parts of him had been suppressed when he first met Jasper.

It took love to bring it out of him.

Jasper, it seemed, was the same.

Peter finally led the way out of the house, sighing in the cool night air. "I wanted you to see it, anyway. Charlotte refuses to stay here."

"Why?"

"She wants no reminders of where we came from, I assume. I understand, of course, but…"

Jasper nodded, though the thought went unfinished. Both of them knew that feeling. Familiarity, and hatred, and longing, and pain. Sometimes the lines between happy memories and sad ones blurred, and for creatures as long-lived as they were, any memory eventually became a treasure. Slowly, insidiously, the past faded.