Jasper
It had been nearly a month since he left Charlotte and Peter, a month of wandering aimlessly from place to place. He was somewhere in suburban North Carolina at the moment. The houses, all painted some variant of beige with the same floor plan repeated over and over, were still; it was the middle of the night. His pale skin glowed in the darkness, his black eyes looking like dark holes in his face.
These dark eyes stared intently into a window, watching the form that lay under the sheets of a blue bed breathe slowly, the chest moving up and down, up and down. Jasper crept a little closer.
The window was on the second floor, but Jasper easily jumped to the windowsill from a standstill. Balancing precariously for the moment that it took to slide the window up, he then fell silently to the wood floor and was next to the bed in a flash.
With another lightning-fast movement, he slammed his hand over the sleeping figure's mouth and plunged his own mouth to the man's neck. The man had barely even opened his eyes before Jasper's teeth broke the skin of his neck.
Within another minute, he was dead, and Jasper threw him over his own shoulder before jumping back out the window, dumping the body in a shrub on his way out of the neighborhood.
Alice
The compulsion she had first felt in that street in upstate New York was still there, sitting in her mind right next to the new awareness of her thirst. Going by the occasional flashes of locations or faces, she had been to Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Virginia before the next flash brought an image of a small diner in the southern part of North Carolina. Discarding the drained woman in her arms (the vision had interrupted her mid-meal), she stood up excitedly with one of those fast movements she still hadn't quite gotten used to, and she set off running south. It would take a day or so to get there, she knew... hopefully she wouldn't get there too late this time.
two days later
Cross-legged on the ground with dirty water soaking through her skirt, Alice cradled the broken, bloody little body in her arms and cried. For the first time, she felt disgusted with herself. The terrified expression on the little boy's face when she had grabbed him roughly by the arm (a snap echoing through the air where she suspected it had broken) and pressed her mouth to his neck floated in front of her eyes, an imprint she couldn't erase. His scream still rang in her ears.
Even worse, though she knew how terrible the things she had done were, she still wanted more. She could feel the last dregs of blood in the boy's rapidly cooling body, and she wanted them. But she laid the boy tenderly aside and ran away, as fast and far as she could.
It was a while before Alice realized she had passed her destination, and wheeled around. She stopped running well before she made it into the town, and slipped into the diner almost unnoticed.
She ordered a lemonade that she wouldn't drink (terrifying the waiter with her frightening black eyes in the process) and glanced at the clock. She had about an hour before he arrived.
She could barely contain the excitement that bubbled up inside her. She was here! She couldn't miss him! He was going to be here, just sixty more minutes...