Emmerson & The Guardian

Driving, Dreaming, and B-Neg

    Feeling too full of our meal I stretch out in my seat and rest my temple on my fist that is propped up on the window of my door.  I position myself in such a way that I can see Blaze from under my long eyelashes.  I take him in.  He has a 5 o’clock shadow along the bottom of his chiseled jaw.  He has an angular nose, dark chocolate eyes, and perfectly defined peach lips.  I look away hoping he couldn’t tell what I was doing.  I run my free hand through my hair- it’s too long right now, and it’s in terrible need of a wash.  I can’t wash my hair at night and not straighten it the next day and expect it to look right.  I have to wash it in the morning every day, and immediately style it.  I had fully intended to do so before I was taken from my home so abruptly, so I only had time for my Kenra dry shampoo.  

“Can we stop somewhere for the night so I can shower?”

“Yes.  I was going to stop in Texas for dinner and find a place to stay the night.”

“Ok.  Will I get my own room?”

“If you promise not to run.”

“I thought I was here on my own free will.”

“You are.”  He says as a hint of a smile plies across his mouth.  “But I’ll have no problem detaining you if need be.”  The smile turns into a sly grin.  I can see dirty in his eyes.  

            Suddenly images of him holding me tight by my hips trickle into my subconscious.  They are delicious images of his muscular arms around me.  His breath on my neck.  His tongue invading my mouth.  Taking it prisoner.  Feeling him press me into a wall while I feel his erection on me.  I have to really try to push these images aside to keep a clear head.  No one has ever had this effect on me.  Least of all Freddie.  We have honestly only had s*x a handful of times, and it was the most boring s*x ever had by anyone.  So, it’s alarming and new to be so enchanted by someone.  It’s something to the effect of magnetic attraction.  Almost as if I am being drawn to him whether I like it or not.  I decide talking is the best idea.  Maybe I can pry another layer off him.

“How old are you, Blaze?”

“32 years old.”

“What do you like to do in your spare time?”

“I like various physical sports.  Football and golf are my favorite.  But I enjoy soccer too.  Hockey is fun to watch on T.V. though I’ve never played.”

“I see.  Do you drink?”

“Yes.  On occasion.”

“What is your favorite drink?”

“Mrs. Fisher.  If I didn’t know better.  I’d think you were interrogating me.”  He looks over at me out of the corner of his eye amused.

“Well.  In all the mystery books I have read they say to keep your captor talking.  That it could save your life.”

“Do you feel you are in danger?”

“No.”  I say it because it’s true.  

“Jim Beam.  Signature Craft bourbon whisky 12 years old.”

“You struck me as a fireball kind of guy.”

“Because I’m smooth with an after bite?”  He arches a brow.  Intrigued with what my answer might be.

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

“I never would have guessed Freddie’s wife to be so witty.  Or so beautiful.”  I blush, and he can hardly believe he’s said it either.  We drive for another couple of hours in silence.  With my head propped up on my fist and the lines in the road whizzing by I fall fast asleep again. 

I’m running in a field, and it’s a beautiful day.  My hands graze the top of the tall grass, and my hair floats wistfully around my shoulders as the wind blows it.  I’m running to something, though I can’t see what it is.  It’s more of a feeling drawing me near.  Then in a nanosecond everything beautiful fades away and I’m crawling on my hands and knees in a dark dungeon.  Something, or someone rather, still pulling me to them.  When I stop crawling, I look up to see the figure of a man, though I cannot make out the top half of his face.  Blonde hair, pale skin, long fingers.  He reaches down to touch my face and as he does, I feel a strange pain pierce my heart.  His lips part slightly, revealing a pearly set of fangs as he takes in a sharp breath of air.  It is as if he can feel my pain, too.

I awake with a jolt, and a worried pair of eyes on me.  

“You alright Em?”

“I uhhhh….ummm…yeah.  Just a dream.  Just a bad dream.”  And it’s just that it’s not bad exactly…. It’s always the same, and it’s almost inviting.  For as long as I can remember I’ve had this dream.  It always starts with me in a field and ends with me by this man.  It’s like he and I are the same person.  We are two sides of the same coin.  But it never goes beyond that.  I always wake up flustered and wanting.    

“You wanna stop for a bite to eat?  Get you something to drink to calm down?”      

“Oh.  Yeah, that sounds great.” I say flately.

            We arrive at an IHOP just as a group of senior citizens pull up in a giant bus.  The side of the bus reads “Single and Ready to Mingle”.  A senior group that is ready to get some…how great is this?  They are eighty and getting more than me.  “That’s because you married Mr. Personality.”  “I didn’t know he was going to change so drastically!”    

“What’s that?”  Blaze asks as he looks around the car for my imaginary friend.

“Uh-hm.  Nothing.  It was nothing.”  I say embarrassed.

“Right.  Well, you like pancakes?”

“Yes.”  I lie.  I don’t have a favorite food.  Everything tastes the same.  Bland, and soggy.  It must have something to do with the fact that I don’t require food.  The only thing that has ever touched my lips that I can truly say is delicious is…blood.  f**k.  Blood.  I love B- neg.  Thinking about it for even that short moment has me jonesing.  I will forever be a recovering addict.  I only pray I that I can continue to abstain.  I'm probably having issues because I haven't been to the gym in several days.  The two a days were surpassing my urges more than I realized.          Just about the time I was envisioning my fangs sinking into someones carotid the car comes to a halt.  I quickly clamber out of the vehicle in attempts to keep my fangs from descending from my daydreams.  I have been off blood since I was 13.  But the second the thought of it crosses my mind I have difficulty keeping my fangs at bay.  My mother’s boyfriend when I was 13 -Nick - came from one of the super freak websites.  She easily hypnotized him into letting me feed from him too.  Sybil has never wanted to abstain from the finer things in life.  Always adorning herself with the nicest clothes, perfumes, cars, and blood.  I think she hypnotized them into draining their bank accounts on her.  The thing is I never wanted to take advantage of innocents.  It never seemed morally right to me, which is why I decided to practice blood abstinence.  Sybil would acquire a new suitor in every state we would move to.  Leaving the last poor sap distraught and broke.  New Hampshire to Mississippi- Mississippi to Las Vegas, and so on and so forth.  I think by now we have lived in every state in the US.  Every one of Sybil’s gentlemen were clearly more into her than she was into them.    Out of the corner of my eye I see Blaze putting on his aviators, and checking his back pocket for his wallet.  He comes to stand next to me, and I only hope I've not Brought too much attention to myself or my fangs.  There's one thing I'm definitely not ready to share with Blaze, and that is I'm a vampire.