Missy sank in the bubble bath until only everything from her nose and up were visible.
“Mmmm.” she mumbled into the lavender and chamomile scented bubbles.
So much nicer than a school shower. How long can I stay in here? I don’t think vampires use toilets so they shouldn’t have to come in here any time soon so I can just stay in here until all of the bubbles dissipate.
Missy frowned as she thought about the whole long conversation she had with Barbara. She raised her mouth above the water. “I guess I can see her point about certain things.”
She lifted her arms in the air and admired the uneven dispersion of the bubble bath foam. It slid down her skin like mammoth fluffy slugs.
She lowered her arms.
“I feel like someone else had that speech with me. Not Barbara. Not Raven. Not Antioch. It was someone else. A woman? Maybe.”
She closed her eyes and tried to visualize the woman’s face, tried to recall her voice.
Yellow and white streaks that solidified into a house.
A simple one story house with a perfect square of a front porch.
A white screen door.
The door opened.
A man stepped outside.
Only to devolve into yellow and white streaks and to disappear.
She opened her eyes.
“What was that who was that what did I almost remember what what what…” She sat up straight. The bubbles clung to her chest like a poorly designed censor bar.
Robin entered the room, whistling “Old MacDonald Had A Farm.” Then, he saw her. “Hot darnation, woman! You could have put a SIGN on the door or something.” He turned and stomped out of the room. He slammed the door shut.
Missy sank back into the bubbles.
“Home. That was home.”
After she washed off the bubbles and got dressed, Missy padded into the kitchen in her bare feet and with a towel wrapped around her head. She pulled out a pad of legal paper from one of the cabinets, grabbed a pen, and settled down at the kitchen table.
She bit her lip as she tried to draw the house she had seen. Lines upon lines – straight, fat, and narrow.
Unfortunately, her drawing skills were subpar at best.
The house she drew was a very rudimentary triangle sitting on an uneven rectangle.
She tried over and over.
Her skills did not improve.
The house in her mind failed to appear on the paper.
But she kept trying as the afternoon shifted into early evening into nightfall.
And the house did not appear.
Day transformed into night.
Antioch could feel it happen.
His exhaustion drained out of him. Only to be replaced with hunger. A fierce, need-filled hunger.
He woke and got out of bed.
He changed his clothes.
He walked down to the front door.
He pulled the door open and ran out into the night.
Ambrose woke with a strong desire to clobber his fellow vampire.
Robin’s left arm snuggled his waist.
Robin’s right elbow jabbed his neck.
And both of Robin’s legs stretched all over his legs.
Ambrose swore profusely and disentangled himself. He shoved the other vampire to the other side of the bed.
He shoved Robin one more time. Just because.
Maybe I should take up N1’s offer. Barbara would understand. She doesn’t like to see me suffer. She knows how hungry I get.
He rolled out of bed and returned to his own room.
It would be wrong.
Things would become so wrong and twisted.
I would lose Barbara’s trust. Not all at once. Piece by piece. Night by night. She would look at us and wonder just how platonic our relationship is. I would become too defensive. N1 would become too possessive, because blood letters always become too possessive.
He quickly changed his clothes. Barbara.
My Barbara would leave me.
His stomach clenched with hunger.
He sighed. “Time to go grab a bite.”
And Missy wasn’t there.
He jumped out of bed and raced out the door. Not again. Not again. Not again. “Missy. Missy. Missy Missy Missy Missy.” He followed her scent into the kitchen and doubled over with relief when he saw her chin-propping on the table.
She glanced at him, but did not speak.
Raven frowned. “What is it?” He came over to her. “What is wrong?”
“I can’t draw.”
“I don’t understand. Didn’t your parents provide you with a drawing tutor?”
She shrugged. “If they did, he wasn’t a very good teacher.”
He unfolded one of the many crumpled papers littering the table. He smoothed it out and laid it flat. “Ah.”
“See? It’s horrible.”
He closed his mouth and chose to withhold his opinion. “So, you drew a house.” He honestly didn’t know what else to call it.
“It isn’t just a house. It’s my house.”
He gave her a questioning glance.
“The house where I grew up it’s my home my real home where my parents are or were or I don’t know. Maybe they aren’t even there anymore. I don’t know I don’t know.”
“Missy.” His stomach made several points very clear. “I need to go hunt. Stay here. Please. When I return, I will attempt to draw it for you.”
“Can you do that?”
He smiled. “Stay here and you’ll find out.”
“Okay.” She smiled back at him. “My pretty shirtless Raven.”