~*~*~*
"I can't find Jasper!" Alice yelled. "I have no idea where he is or where he's going! When I call he doesn't pick up! Its frustrating!"
"Don't worry, Alice. Jasper knows he always has a place to stay." Emse cooed at her foster daughter.
"I just don't understand how come I couldn't see it. He had no intention of doing it. By the time I caught on to it the deed was done and Jasper was gone." Alice poured out. "Tracked him everywhere in the city and outside where he trails led but I just kept going in circles." Alice whimpered.
"I'm sure he'll come back soon, Alice." Carlisle smiled sympathetically. "We each react to our circumstances. It will be alright."
"He thinks he's weaker than the rest of us. Jasper thinks he doesn't belong here… that he shouldn't even show his face anymore." Alice whispered.
"We all make mistakes. I'm sure he will come to his senses son enough. We just need to give him space. Give him time. It's only been two days, he should be back in a week or so." Carlisle spoke again, patting her on the shoulder. "Trust him, Alice. Sometimes we just need space to get ourselves together."
"I will wait then. I'll try calling at least twice a day until he picks up. Thank you, Carlisle, Emse." Lice finished and flitted up to her room.
-8-8-8
I had no idea how long I've been wandering. It couldn't have been anymore than a week. I knew the other would be worried but I just couldn't go back to them in the mental state I was in. I wanted no more than to hide away, find my head. The last thing I wanted were sympathetic stares, carefully hidden worried brows, and pitiful "it's okay." I stumbled to the outskirts of a small town and stopped before I went any farther and changed direction. My body seemed to move on its own, like a weary man moving by instinct and not by want. I came upon a dirt road leading back into the forest and I began to walk it. It was raining and hot, the road was muddy and it all just looked like a blur. Then after many minutes of walking, I stumbled upon a sight I had not seen in decades.
My house… my… old… plantation house. Was I dreaming? I stood like a statue, grounded in my spot. I was thrown back into nostalgia and I contorted my face as if to cry. I didn't even hear the footsteps sloshing away in the mud.
"It's a beauty isn't it?" the voice whispered. I whirled around to see a female standing right next to me. I contorted my face to snarl at her, then turned to run but she simply looked up at me with those clear grey eyes and said to me.
"Don't run away. I've been waiting for you Jasper Whitlock. I had a feeling you were going to be back soon." She smiled welcomingly. It held no sympathy, no anger or accusation. She wasn't even afraid of what I appeared to be. She held the umbrella with the right hand while holding three heavy looking grocery bags in her left hand. She shifted unevenly as she watched me tentatively, knowingly with those grey, Egyptian Mau like eyes. She breathed out once and then began her walk down the rest of the path to the front of the house. I watched for a moment, her long neck twisted to the side so she could view me from the corner of her eye.
"Come…" she whispered, and I followed, taking the heavy bags from her. That seemed to have annoyed her slightly but she simply bite the corner of her lip.
Once inside, she took off her goulashes at the door, hung her raincoat on the coat rack and reached for the grocery bags again. I jumped, because although I was vaguely paying attention to her, I paid more attention to the house that I remembered. It looked exactly the same, only the scent and certain trinkets were different.
"You can go look around if you like. Get acquainted again. Its fine, Nana won't mind. It's your house after all, by and by." She strolled off down the hall and around the bend to the kitchen.
Once she was out of sight I began to explore the house with a tentative nature. I ran my hand over every grain, every upholstery, the walls, and the fireplace. I walked up the steps at human pace and heard the boards creak; I went into all the rooms, saving my room for last. I opened the door and was bombarded by the same smell of the girl. It was pungent, sweet and spicy, jasmine and cinnamon with brown sugar, maybe? Then something grassy. My mouth watered with venom and I became overtaken by grief once again. This was the thing that got me into trouble… the sense of smell. I tried to ignore it and crossed into the room until I stood in the center. Everything was as I had left it. From the walls to the floor there were things that were salvaged, my furniture, my trinkets, the trunk at the bottom of my bed, even my portrait on the wall. Of course there were additions for her things, the closet was expanded to become walk-in holding her boudoir, her rows of shoes and clothing. I dared not venture far in there.
I stood in front of my portrait and remembered taking it because I was leaving for war. Where did she find all of this? It all should have been lost. I began to shake, and if it were possible for me to cry certainly would have. I felt moisture on my cheek and then a drop of blood fell on my hand. I was shocked, looked over at the mirror and gasped. There were blood tears coming down my face from the corners of my eyes. They were strained and few, but they were there. A soft knock on the door interrupted me and turned to see her standing in the doorway, as if waiting for an invitation to come in. I studied her.
Her features with the fragile daintiness and complexion, reminded me of Thandie Newton. 5'3, thick dark brown hair pulled into a low ponytail resting on her slightly buff shoulders, a long neck, her strong collar bones showing because of her wide necked shirt, nicely sized breasts, slender torso and waist, wide hips, a nice bottom and strong legs from what I could see outlined in her tight skinny jeans. The quintessential female every man would love to have, but not me. That was only food, another tempting fruit from the gods. I looked up to her face to see her cheeks colored slightly, and a small smile on her lips.
"Why have I cried?" I asked, "What is this? My kind does not cry."
"Perhaps there was too much emotion, pent up?" She asked, indifferently. I could tell from her voice that this was no surprise to her.
"What have you done to me?" I asked.
"Pfft! Over reacting much!" She snickered, "Nothing yet." She turned away and began walking back down the hall. I caught up with her easily, took her hand and turned her to face me. I held her in place as gently as I could.
"I need to know…"
"Here's what I do know. You, need a bath, those clothes, are a wreck, you should get arrested for public indecency, mate." She shrugged me off easily. Walking further down the hall and opened the closet door, took out a towel and handed it to me.
"We got indoor plumbing so there won't be any maid bringing you hot water in a tub!' she laughed. "You know where the bathroom is, I'll get you some clothes. You can take my room- well your room. I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. The master bedroom is my old man's, don't go in there, he'll behead you."
"I doubt it…" I drawled.
"Don't doubt it for very long…" she said walking towards the stairs now.
"Please," I swallowed, "What's your name?"
She paused for a moment and then answered. "Call me whatever you like."
I took her arm gently again, trying to ignore the warmth, the exposure of her neck. "Please? I'll find out sooner or later." I stared directly into her eyes. She dropped them just as her cheeks colored. I tried to ignore that too.
"It's Maria." She whispered. This girl was too full of coincidences.
"Really?" I asked.
"Well… no… That's just my first and last name put together. I get teased a lot about my first name."
"I promise I won't tease you."
"Its…" she sighed heavily, "Its Madame Carmen Aria… my full name that is."
Whoa… I thought rocking back on my heels. "A complete opera house name… wow…"
"Yeah well, Madame was my father's stupid idea and he wouldn't let it go. My mother's name was Carmen." She rolled her eyes, easing her arm out of my hand. "Enough already."
"Okay what do you prefer to be called. Because I really like the name Carmen, its in fact my favorite opera."
"My father's own too." Carmen turned away. "Consider yourself lucky, only family gets to call me Carmen. And I don't have much of them left." Carmen was down the stairs before I could say anymore. I inhaled sharply the spot where she once stood. My throat burned, the venom churned in my stomach, my vision hazed- no! I had to stay focused. This girl was not going to die here, not by me. I went off to the bathroom.
By the time I came downstairs Carmen was in the kitchen putting together a meal. The kitchen was changed drastically to accommodate Carmen's cooking style as I witnessed. She was so focused on cutting the onions, green peppers, and garlic that she didn't notice when I came in. Sweeping the contents all into the sizzling oil in a copper bottom frying pan, Carmen whirled around to the fridge and pulled out a zip locked bag with pre-seasoned chicken breast and placed that in the frying pan as well. The timer went off and she disappeared beneath the island, emerging with a rare steak, I could tell from the scent. Reaching up into the cupboard, Carmen pulled down the spice rack, opened the second pot that was on the stove, which was rice, she poured the seasoning into it, mixed it around and the rice turned yellow. I furrowed my brows.
"Do you need help?"
Carmen looked up at me for the first time. "Oh, no, thank you!" she turned back to the chicken breast again. "The clothes fit, I'm glad! I remodified some of your old articles of clothing to fit myself, so I vaguely knew your size." She said absently.
"How come you know so much about me? My clothing size, the fact that I'm alive, so to speak, not surprised by my blood tears, or my sharp teeth." I crossed the kitchen and took out a bottle of water out of the fridge. I opened it and handed it to her.
"Well, I didn't know you were alive, it was Nana who said you were. Nana took care of me after my mother died, and I only know your clothing size because I have your room. My father bought the house long before I was born."
"How come you don't cringe or fear what I am?" I lifted her effortlessly onto the counter. I stood between her legs and traced her collarbone with my ochre eyes. I had fed on many animals in the week pass to get rid of the ruby eyes I had. Leaning in closer, I looked up to see Carmen simply looking at me.
"Can you, um take the chicken off please. Its done now."
"You're worried about chicken when I am about to drain you of your blood! Who are you making all of this for anyway?" this girl was incredulous! "Do you want to die? Or worse, do you want to be changed into a vampire?"
Carmen blinked, "You can't tell?" It sounded so obvious. "You."
"I refuse to change you into what I am!" I yelled. "I would rather kill you first!" I slammed my fist against the granite counter cracking it. I saw the anger in her eyes at that gesture. She smacked me. I didn't think it was possible but it stung. I looked at her incredulously.
"This kitchen is my domain! Do you have any idea how much it will cost me to get this counter replaced! DO YOU!?" Carmen snapped. I blinked.
"You're angry about a counter top?" my look must have been hilarious because she began to laugh.
"Look…" she said picking up a kitchen knife. I caught her arm just before she plunged it into her hand.
"Are you insane! I'm convinced you want to die!" I was furious with her.
"Fine! You want my blood so much!" Carmen lifted her next hand to her teeth and bit down hard. Blood seeped from her palm and my senses left me. I grabbed her wrist and sunk my teeth into the same make she made. I used my tongue to make sure all of the blood went into my mouth and was not wasted.
"Jasper…" Carmen called, sweetly, cooing almost. "That's enough Jasper. Listen to yourself." The blood was not coming fast enough from the wound on her palm and I pulled back to take another bite when I saw her smiling face. I launched myself backward but before I could reach the back door she was blocking it.
"MOVE!" I remotely thought how did she get there so fast.
"No! Calm down. You stopped, Jasper, you stopped. That's good!" She said smirking.
"Move before I sink my teeth into you again! This time I will kill you!" I reached up to grab her when she held up her palm. I grasped it in disbelief. It was healed.
"What… are you?" I whispered sinking to the floor, heart beating furiously. Wait… a vampire's heart never beats, we… never feel hungry yet, I craved the food I had not tasted in decades. I placed my hand on my heart, I felt Carmen's body encircling mine, placing her hand over mine.
"I can make you more human than you will ever understand, Jazz. Let me help you, please, I want to. I hate seeing you constantly run away like this."
"What… are you?" I repeated.
"I'm a dhampir. Half-human half-vampire. While I may not be as fast as you, or as strong as you, I am still what I am. However my only power is just this, to make vampires feel, function, and look human with just a few drops of my blood." Carmen finished. I looked up at her as if I were seeing her with new eyes.
"Has anyone ever told you that you looked like-."
"Thandie Newton with brown hair and grey eyes, yeah."
I smiled. "C'mon Jazz, Eat your first meal in years. I'll talk to you about the pro's and cons later. You've already took on the first step."
"Which was?"
"To touch me." She was right. Although I seemed human, the vampire venom still flowed into my mouth, I still wanted her blood, her heat still bothered me but I was fighting it like I had been all day. Now she was hugging me, and as much as I would like to bite into her wrist, I was fighting that too. he was human, in the years that I became a vampire I never attempted to make any sort of contact with the warmth of humans because I knew I would break.
I breathed in deeply, maybe I wasn't as weak as I thought. Maybe she could help me. "Let's talk over dinner."