Picking up the Pieces (Part 2)

I pinch the bridge of my nose, Cooper had been the voice of reason as of late, it's annoying.

Absolutely irritating because what he says is true, but it doesn't change anything, it doesn't sate my hunger. Not the hunger for blood but for revenge, the ravenous urge to act on instinct, to quell this anger that had rooted firmly within... or maybe not quell the anger but urge to take action.

I'm not thinking logically, I see that much and it *is* dangerous.

I tilt my head back following the cracks in the ceiling like a maze. Today is ticking by tediously slow, and I'm done listening to my brain drone on incessantly.

I reach in the long cabinet for something to preoccupy my attention away from the annoying buzz of my endless thoughts. Pulling out my guitar, I let the curve rest on my thigh. My finger on the right ready to pluck the E string, the others on the left press delicately against the cold, metallic knob.

The E note rings out, bouncing off the graffitied metal plates coating some of the walls. I close my eyes listening to the slightly off tune pitch. The E rings like a split end hair, two sounds that aren't properly conjoined.

I gradually turn the tuning peg, the musical note begins to pull itself together, twisting tighter and tighter until it's one. A perfect, beautiful note sings, flooding the shack like clean water pouring into a crystal glass.

I move on to the next string, giving it the same treatment. This ringing is more languid. The E note dances the cha cha while the A note dances the tango. I move to each string making the sound flawlessly entwined with itself, perfectly tuned.

I brace the neck of the guitar and let my fingers roll over each wire. The wonderful sounds seep into the floor boards as my pores soak it in. I play a chord, then another.

The music is like a hot shower for my mind, rinsing away all the grim and build up.

I lose myself in the music, playing one song after another. I like the way the ribbed strings brush the nails and fingertips.

It has been a while since I've been sucked into playing my guitar, time escapes me like a bird in an open cage.

Mindlessly, I start to play an old song from the sixties, humming to the melody, just like my mother used to. I blink as my fingers freeze in place, the corners of my lips tug down. I lean, putting the guitar back into its protected spot.

"Mmmm, what's the name of that song?" asks a woman's voice dreamily.

I peek over at the bed, watching two slender arms reach for the ceiling like vines. A yawn and satisfied grunt leaves the quilt.

"It's an old song, you wouldn't recognize it."

She sits up with half lidded eyes, smacking her lips. She lazily makes eye contact, as her hands push through her golden strands.

Her hands suddenly slap down on the mattress and she goes stiff, body goes rigid as if someone snuck up behind her, crashing a pair of cymbals.

"Wha...Where!" her head flips around in confusion and alarm.

Her reactions never fail to amuse, "I could have left you in the dirt, I'm sure the sun would love to say hello with third degree burns."

"The sun!" she exclaims, "Is it daytime?"

She scans the area for a window and tries to angle her head to see if light is shining behind the dense curtains.

"We've got a couple hours before sunrise."

She flashes her crazy eyes back to me, "Did you say something about third degree burns? You're kidding right?"

I press my lips together confirming the bad news, "I wish I was," I automatically make a pained expression recalling some less than pleasant experiences with that flaming ball in the sky, "It really depends on your tolerance how badly and how quickly you'll get scorched."

Her lip droops and a wide eye twitches a bit, probably imagining how much it sucks to be kissed by the sun and it *does*.

She regains composure muttering to herself, "That's awesome..."

She ends her brief mopping to look around the worn down shack, unimpressed, "Where did you bring me? ....This place is kind of a shit hole."

She should have seen it before, "Yeah, well this place is *my* shit hole."

"This is your place?" Surprise turns to embarrassment as she drops her head down, biting her lips.

I keep my smirk to myself, "It's one of the few places I can get into. It's secluded, safe," I study the beat up walls and scratched up flooring, "and it's mine."

"I guess it's not so bad," she tries to recover, "The bed is pretty nice," she lightly bounces up and down testing the springs, "Were you listening to music earlier, or did I dream that?"

"I play a little," I get up off the chair, she eyes me looking a bit impressed.

"So," I say, leaning myself against the wall directing the subject back to the problem at hand, "Do you have an idea of what you're going to do for shelter?"

"Oh" she squints down at the bed, contemplating.

'Should I let her stay here just for tonight?' I weigh the options, we're still strangers, but I've gone out of my way this far to help. I try to think of other temporary areas for her to stay. I'm surprised at myself for taking her here in the first place.

"Yeah, I have a place that will work," she glances up at me, swishing hair out of her eyes.

"Is it neighborless? No sun?"

She pauses then nods, "Yeah, I think so."

She begins to climb out of the bed, swing her legs over then proceeding to straighten the covers.

"You can just leave it," I eye her as she leans to make the bed.

She waves off my comment with one hand, her back is turned, ignoring me as she folds the blanket nicely. I secretly admire the view of her bent over. She isn't slender in all areas, having some generous curves to complement that petite frame.

I reach for the keys in my pocket while I wait, trying not to stare so blatantly.

"So, how do I get back to my apartment from here?" She smooths the last wrinkle, turning to face me.

I swing the keyring around to hold up the key, "I'll drop you off."

Her brows raise, "You have a car?"

"I have a bike, come on."

Turn to unlock the only other door aside from the exit in the ramshackle room. We descend down a few steps into the pitch of the echoing chamber. I walk over to unlatch the padlock, able to see it just fine in the black room, throwing up the sliding door with one hand.

"Wow," her hazel eyes glitter, "that's really nice," she praises, looking from the front to back of my prized bullet bike repeatedly.

I turn away to chuck the chain and lock aside, smiling to myself with pride, "Yeah, she's alright."

I get up and hop on the Hayabusa, fitting the key into the ignition with a twist. The gage lights pierce through the dark tool shed style garage.

Ashlen stands there, mouth hanging open taking in the dazzling bike.

"Well, you getting on?"

She stares at me wide eyed for a second or two, "Oh, uh," she glances out the fold up door then back at me, "Yeah, ok."

She slides herself onto the back timidly. Placing her hands lightly on my shoulders.

"Don't fall off."

I lean to click on the handlebar controls for start up, the bike warms up and roars to life with the final press of a button.

Ash squeals upon start up, arms flying around my waist as she hugs herself tightly against me.

I snicker, "Hold on tight."

I lift off and slide out the open door, lightly pressing the throttle. I won't go too fast... Not until we get to paved road, at least.

We roll down the bumpy decline, anticipation building in my gut. The need for speed had sparks shooting up my arms.

Finally, paved road! The front wheel touches the old road and eagerness gets the better of me. Power surges through the sleek bike as it grips the road shooting off with a gentle touch to the throttle. A squeeze around my abdomen reminds me I need to take it easy for my passenger's sake.

The signs and trees rush out of view as we eat up the road in chunks. The sound of the impressive Rpms and the Doppler effect as we blow past every object lining the road blare with physical force. We make a turn for a straight shot of long road and I can't help myself, keenly giving the throttle lavished attention. We zip through the open road accelerating to dangerous speeds. It's amazing, but of course I'm insatiable, craving more speed.

I catch Ashlen whimper, "Should have worn a helmet."

She crushes her body into my back as if trying to hide inside my rib cage. I belly laugh rivaling the strong wind tugging my hair in all different directions, unable to help but audibly express my excitement and amusement.

I glance in the rear view at Ash who's huddled into me, her hair attacking like an enraged tentacled sea monster, lashing out on all sides.

I give in, slowing the pace just a bit but enough momentum to get that rush. Ash gets a little braver, peeking her head over my shoulder.

Her expression goes from anxious to awed in no time. The apples of her cheeks rise as excitement bubbles out of her throat and shines through her eyes. I grin, I may have just created another speed demon.

I'm a little disappointed in reaching the Chinese place so quickly, I was actually enjoying sharing one of my favorite past times with someone. Even an acquaintance I never imagined getting to know before now.

We roll to a stop and I shut off the engine. Ash cautiously removes herself as if face to face with a wild animal she doesn't want to provoke, peeling herself off of me. Her stiff fingers break away from my shirt, still hooked when she pulls away. I press my lips together to suppress a smile as her jittery frame nearly falls off the back with her hands out in front of her as if the bike is going to lunge at her.

"That was..." her face is ranging from terrified to exhilated, "Woah..," She lets out breathlessly.

I fail to hold in a snicker.

She shivers like she got the chills, trying to get a hold of herself.

"Do you usually go that fast?" enthusiasm and astonishment apparent in her tone.

"We barely broke 140," I usually pushed my bike much harder than that.

Her eyes grow huge in disbelief, I can't tell if she's horrified or impressed.

I bite down on my lip to keep from openly chuckling at that face she's making.

"How are you acting like that's not fast!"

Her reactions are incredibly entertaining, "Oh, it's fast, this bike can go a lot faster than that, though."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope, top speed is around 194 mph," her jaw drops to the floor and my voice shakes suppressing another laugh, "but, you can push over 200 pretty easily, I've been slowly modding the bike, too. It has the potential to break 300."

"That's insane, you're insane!" her head bobs from side to side, floored, "You're not even wearing a helmet, what if someone crashes into you? What if *we* crashed!"

"Not likely, you're probably aware of our heightened senses and reflexes surpass the average person many times over."

She looks up squinting then concedes with a slow nod.

"And if we were to crash, which we wouldn't have," I glare at her playfully for suggesting something so ridiculous, "we'd heal up pretty quickly, the fastest speed on this bike isn't enough to kill either of us."

"A crash at that speed wouldn't obliterate you or I?" her tone drenched in heavy skepticism, "You know, you could have told me that before I got on the bike!"

I chuckle, "Would it really have put you at ease?"

"Maybe a little…"

I might have broken her, that face looks as if she's had one too many shocking revelations for one day. She opens her mouth to say something else but then doesn't, instead holding her palms out to examine them like they're impressive weapons.

I glance around thinking about my next stop, "I need to go find something to eat before it gets too late," I glance back with a smirk, "or early, I guess I should say."

"Oh, do you need help finding someone? I feel kind of bad, I didn't leave you with much time."

"No offense, Ash," I say grabbing the back of my neck, "You might be more of a liability than anything."

She pulls her lips to the side, "I guess you're right."

I pay special attention to her body language, now, "You going to be ok on your own from here?"

She looks behind her towards the door of her apartment, a nervous foot digging into the gravel. 'Good, she likely won't turn down meeting up again so I can find out how connected she is to the reaper.'

She responds too quickly, "Oh yeah, yeah. I've got a good idea of what I'm going to do next."

Her fake confidence is almost convincing.

I hesitate for a moment. One, to increase the chances of her accepting my offer and two, I feel a little bad using her for my own gain. I have admittedly come to care a little about this woman, not completely sure why but it's there all the same.

"How about we meet up somewhere tomorrow. I can show you the ropes."

She tilts her head, seeming to be surprised with my offer, then looks down to think. I purse my lips, was that too forward?

She makes eye contact again with a half smile, "Is it that obvious?" I tip my head to the side, a little confused with the question.

She looks down and continues, "That I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing?"

I chuckle softly, 'yes kind of', "I just figured you'd want a few more tips, but it's up to you."

"Alright, fair. Give me your number," she says wryly before suddenly jerking her hands up in frustration, "OH! Nevermind!... I totally forgot, I lost that stupid thing."

I bite my lip, I should probably come clean.

"I may have... Destroyed your cell phone," I say glancing away.

She squints at me, looking more baffled than angry.

"...Why would you do that?"

"To cover up your death from supernatural monsters," I mutter with a grimace.

She continues to stare at me for a moment before her face cracks, shaking her head, "This has been the weirdest day of my life."

"It has been pretty out of there," I agree with a nod, "I hardly have my phone on me anyway. Just tell me when and where to meet you."

"You never have your phone with you? How are people supposed to get in touch, then?"

"You'd be surprised, I'm generally pretty easy to find. Except, when I don't want to be found."

She gives me a quizzical look, then faces the street to view the long stretch.

She points over yonder, "At Stranglehold trail's entrance."

"What time?"

"10 at night?" She says with a squinting eye then pressing her lips into a firm line, "Although, I don't know how I'll be aware of the time without my phone."

I reach into my pocket, pulling out my step father's pocket watch. Holding it out to her by the chain as the clock dangles, "Here, you can give this back to me tomorrow."

Her brows raise, "I can't take that, it looks too nice!"

"It's fine, I can go a day without it," I don't use it for the time anyway. Just a reminder of what I've done and what I am.

She hesitantly shuffles over cupping both palms, holding them out like a beggar. I drop it in her outstretched hands.

She takes the gold watch, flipping it over and over to examine the detail on the shell. She presses the top button like a curious child. The case pops open and her eyes get wide.

"Is that the real time!"

"Yeah, I've got to hurry if I want to eat something tonight. Are you going to make it where you're going in time? Do you want me to drop you off?" I wonder if my guess on where she's staying is correct.

"No," she says, shaking her head, "I should be alright from here," she glances in the direction of the trail.

"One more question before you take off," she interjects suddenly.

"Shoot."

"You mentioned something about rules when we first met," she raises her brows in apprehension, "Is there anything I need to know, right now, before you leave."

A really good question. I look up trying to run through anything of immediate importance, "Stay out of direct sunlight. It's really not fun," I point up at the sky, "Two, no witnesses, don't let humans catch you attacking or drinking from random people," That one is pretty important, "I can fill you in on the rest tomorrow and the reasons. Another thing, try not to get involved with other vampires yet, especially if they are really old"

"Old?"

"Typically, they'll have this power and presence about them. You'll just want to be cautious."

"Ok, thanks, I'll try to stay out of trouble," she gives me a sheepish smile.

I nod glancing out into the horizon line, "K, don't get burned," I start up the Hayabusa, "See you at Ten."

"10 o' clock," she gives a small smile looking down, "See you."

I lift my feet off the ground, twirling the bike around. I take one more glance at Ash before heading down the street, ducking as the bullet bike dives down the road like an eagle to a mouse.

I make a sharp turn at the end. The yellow median dashes blur into one big line as I rocket through the sleeping town. The Hayabusa echoes off buildings, sending it's roars through the leaves of trees and the space between town structures.

I would prefer to come across someone sober, so I don't have to worry about unwanted effects this close to sunrise when I'm on a time crunch. Even drawing attention from a cop might be nice.

I snort at the ridiculousness of that thought. I must be the only person in the world hoping to get pulled over.

I'm blasted in the face by a delicious scent, plaguing the wind and rolling off the front of my bike. I slow the pace as a drum beats stronger and rings more clearly then the booming revs filling the area. The sound of blood pumping through a solid heart directs me like a beacon. I'm a moth to their flame.

I park the bike to follow the trail on foot. The aroma is heavier, hanging in the air, I began to salivate. The pulse is elevated and working hard. A human head floating over a fence bobs up and down as if hopping on the tops, an early morning jogger. Finding a decent meal was easier than I could've hoped for.

I bound over the tall fence silently, one arm hoisting my body over the gated trail without difficulty.

Landing like a cat, I eye the fit runner with music blaring in his ears. Who the hell jogs to jazz music? Those two things don't go together at all.

I glide closer behind him until I'm practically his shadow. He stops, ripping a bud out of his ear. Perceptive, he must've got that sensation of being followed, it happens occasionally.

He whips his head around but it's too late. I grab him from behind throwing a hand over his mouth and locking his arm rendering it useless, grappling him with the other so he's trapped.

He yelps under my hand, attempting to throw me off, trying to reach for me with that locked arm with no success. He has a great deal of strength but I have an unfair advantage, there's no escape.

In his struggle he bares his corded neck which I don't hesitate sinking my teeth into. Blood bursts out of the puncture wound and I'm practically choking it down. The man freezes up, the shock of hitting a pressure point rendering him immobile.

The flavor is more than divine, it's the best drink I've had in a long time. I make an effort to stay focused though I'm tempted to let the blood take me over.

I feel it warming my cold limbs, kick starting my frozen heart, almost convincing me I'm not some undead monstrosity.

This blood *is* too good. It pulses through me with every beat and I'm ravenous for more. Thick gulps delightfully sliding down my throat, simply incredible.

I feel him start to go limp and adjust my grip to keep him upright, unwilling to let go of his neck just yet. That strong heart starts to struggle and I'm eager to drain it completely.

'No more!' I rebuke in my head, I'm getting too carried away.

I take another long pull, practically inhaling it. I want it all.

'Enough!' shouts the better part of me.

I obey, yanking myself off with a growl, more than agitated. Keeping my eyes off of his neck, I drag him over to a nearby bench to ditch him.

I get away as quickly as possible, aching to finish what I started. That was utterly fantastic and it pains me to stop.

I clear the tall fence without touching it, the smell in the air and all over my mouth is intoxicating.

I lick the remains from my lips savoring the last of it. I tell myself, 'This is all I get for tonight, no more.'

My hand gathers up the liquid that trailed past my mouth, scooping it up and sucking it off, like a lost, dehydrated soul in the desert coming across one handful of water before expiring.

Pathetic.

I scour inch by inch until every last drop is cleaned off. Of course, it isn't enough.

Without looking I get back on the bike and turn it on, still absorbed in the steady but now slower rhythm behind me. The smells all around beckoning me to go back to the source. My tongue searches for more lingering blood on my skin in vain.

All I can think while driving off is how much easier it would be if I could just kill him, but I'm trying not to be that anymore.

Damn is it tough, though.