Growing Wildflowers | WLW

Chrysanthemum

"I'll manage."

Gunner scoffs. "Doubt it." He crosses his arms over his chest and refuses to look at me.

John sighs. "Knock it off, Gun. Or I'll make you stay here while we hunt."

"Dad!"

Even with Gunner's massive frame, his dad makes him look small. "I don't want any trouble tonight. Understood?"

With his eyes glued to the ground he says, "Yes, sir."

Bri pulls her curly hair into a bun and licks her teeth. She has the same glint in her eyes as Gunner now as they push through the front door.

I wait until they're out of the cabin to grab the cooking magazine from the dusty floor and shake the photo of me and my parents out of it. I tuck it in my back pocket and jog to catch up with the others.

It's unusually cold for a spring night but I like it. Keeps the bugs away. A layer of mist has already settled over the brush, leaving droplets in spiderwebs. I can hear the victims from the porch even though they're miles away. Faint laughter, the strumming of an untuned guitar, someone singing. My chest clenches. I don't remember the last time I fed. Thinking about sinking my teeth into a fresh meal makes my heart skip a beat. I'm almost hungry enough to ignore the guilt swelling in my chest. Almost.

One of them is wearing heavy cologne. The scent of fresh laundry and vanilla mixes with the pine in the air and the smoke from their campfire. I hope I don't get that one. Cologne always leaves a chemical taste on my tongue but knowing Bri and Gunner, they'll probably push their way to the others before I get a chance.

We cover the distance in silence, not quite jogging but still walking faster than humans do. The moisture in the twigs mutes everything, turning the snap of a twig into a squish. The humans don't notice us standing between the trees, mere feet away. They're still giggling and clinking red solo cups full of alcohol together when John steps forward, into the glow of their campfire.

One of the girls gasps. The rest of them go silent. They don't move, only stare at John with a knowing look in their eyes.

Gunner is so close to me, I can feel his breath on my shoulder as he whispers, "Goddamnit, Dad. Say it."

I push him away from me but he's too focused on our prey to retaliate.

This is our routine. John checks for any signs of hunters before we're allowed to feed. I've never been face to face with one, but I've heard stories of blood suckers being staked through the back while they're feeding because they weren't careful enough to check prior.

John grins. Even no-nonsense John can't contain his smile before a good meal. "You guys shouldn't have come here."

On cue.

Bri and Gunner leap from the trees and tackle their prey to the ground at the same time John pulls the man with the guitar into a chokehold. That leaves two for me.

The snobby-looking guy who's fumbling the keys of his BMW and the girl sleeping in the tent. I tackle the boy first and, without thinking, drive my teeth into his neck. His cologne coats my tongue, but it doesn't matter. I'm too hungry. My stomach cramps, begging for more but I can only drain him so fast. He's too weak to fight back by the time realization melts into his expression and regardless, I'm nearly immortal at night.

His green eyes lock with mine and I wonder what he's thinking as I drain the blood from his body. Is he surprised that a twenty-year-old woman is murdering him? Is he thinking anything at all? Is it painful or is he in too much shock to feel? Part of me hopes it's the latter but I push the thought down.

Gunner drops a woman next to me. Her pulse is faint.

I look at him curiously. He's walking away, a hand clamped over a bloody wound on his wrist.

"Don't drain her," he orders. "I'm turning that one." He starts walking toward the cabin. Once he's a good distance from us, he lets out a mix of a growl and a shout. The sound bounces off the trees, somehow louder in the night.

I don't need to ask what's bothering him. It's hard to leave blood in a victim. Especially after how long we've waited between meals. I watch him, expecting him to change his mind and come back to finish his human but instead, he breaks into a sprint, trying to put distance between himself and the girl.

"What's his deal?" Bri is standing over my shoulder. "Is he...," Her eyes land on the bloody woman on the ground, still gulping shallow breaths.

"Yeah." I nod and push the boy out of my lap.

"He's going to bond with her?" she presses.

I nod, wipe the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. "Yeah."

"Why?"

I ignore her question. I can't keep my eyes off the woman on the ground. She's too weak to move but her eyes are pleading. A shiver runs down my spine as the image of waking up in John's basement flashes through my head. I can still feel it. The fever, the body aches, my stomach turning until I'd puke. Nothing helped, not the wet washcloth John would drape over my forehead, not the painkillers I demanded, or the blood he tried to make me drink once my eyes shifted in color. I drop to my knees and lift the woman so her body is resting against mine.

"Gwen," Bri warns. "What are you—"

I sink my teeth into her neck and drain what's left of the blood from her body until her pulse stops thudding against my lips. By the time I look up, a red glow covers the campsite, bouncing off the tent, the ground, Bri's face. The BMW's brake lights are on.

"Fuck, fuck!" I push to my feet, try to get to the vehicle before my second victim can escape, but before I can cover the distance, the driver locks eyes with me in the rearview mirror and the tires peel out.

When the dust settles, it's only me and Bri. I'm going to throw up.

"Hey," she soothes. "Maybe—"

"She saw us, Bri." I shake my head. "She saw us draining her friends."

"Maybe not." She nudges my shoulder. "It's dark and..." She doesn't finish the sentence. "Look. John already left." She points a thumb over her shoulder. "Saw him chase after Gunner. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Let's go home and get some rest. Maybe it'll all blow over by morning."

I nod, but it's deflated. Even with the fresh blood, I can hardly get my legs to work. Bri is an optimist, but I saw the victim. I saw those green eyes watching us in the rearview mirror before she ran. She's going to tell everyone there are vampires living in the Bolton County Forest.