MILK & HONEY

“That’s a bit ironic.” She chuckled, looking between them with a smile. “I don’t know, I think the red might be the right choice, I just need to wrap my head around it.” She shrugged. “Comfy is definitely a style.” Avery nodded before wandering to the racks and pulling out a couple of hangers, ignoring the fact that she was doing so in a ball gown, before coming back and holding up three outfit combinations. “So this, this, and this, would all work, and you could wear them with loafers if you want to be super comfortable but I think heels would look best personally; the burnt orange is my favourite one.”

      “Well you definitely look good in it, so there’s no worry there.” Sarah smiled again, hopefully reassuringly, at the other. Then she watched as she moved to pick up a few pieces, her eyes immediately locking onto the orange one. She’d prefer it a size up, to keep it extra roomy, but she had to admit she could see herself in it. She reached out for it, a hand running over the fabric. “Do you have some special kind of powers, or was this just a lucky guess? I love it.”

He wanted to beat the vampire senseless, feel his bones break against his knuckles before waiting for them to heal, only for him to break them again. He wasn’t ashamed of the hatred, nor did he think it was unwarranted, but he knew he couldn’t just go around dolling out justice as he saw fit; as far as he was concerned vampires were the scum of the earth, and whenever he pictured his mother’s face that feeling was revalidated. “Aside from him generally being a prick?” Cole replied a little snappily, feeling his anger rolling through him and working to calm it. “He wanted to turn you into his little mindless snack.” He explained after taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. 

      Closer, now, she felt the anger even more ---it wasn’t as simple as general prickishness. There was something deeper there, something more dangerous and visceral than just anger ; it was HATRED. Had she been a different person, Sarah might have reached out with her power and forced a wave of calm over him. As it was, she simply... sent it out in his direction. It was a gentle enough nudge, well-controlled after all the practice she’d had, that would only affect him mildly, and only if it was something he already wanted to feel, something he was open to. Brows raised, though, at his further explanation. “Me?” She questioned, voice an octave higher than normal in her surprise. “Well, I... I guess thanks are in order, then.” She looked at him as his demeanour softened a little, something grateful --if not a little shy-- in her eyes. “Can I get you a drink?”

Cal winced slightly when her second shot almost missed the board completely but at least the third shot wasn’t so bad. He took the darts with a smile. “Perhaps, but anything can happen.” He took his shots in quick succession, one bullseye and the other two quite close, which meant he had one, rather handily. “Ah well, perhaps next time. I’d be happy to teach you, if you wanted to learn. Cal Renard, at your service.” He gave a slight bow with the introduction, smiling a little.

      She watched him take his shots, arms folded over her chest ---the darts landed quickly, and impressively, as far as she was concerned. Despite the mildly defensive stance, she smiled at him when he announced himself. “Sarah,” she answered, and dropped her arms with a nod in turn. “I think I’m a bit of a lost cause, though. Never been much for hand-eye coordination.” She shrugged. “I owe you a drink though, don’t I?”

No true psychic put that kind of showmanship into their work. He would know considering he dealt with a clairvoyant sister on a daily basis. He was willing to play along though. “Born and raised right here, A native Hollow, you might say” He sucked in his bottom lip as he nodded. He was always jealous of someone well traveled, or really anyone who had lived anywhere outside of the neighborhood they were born in. “Where’d you drop in from? Another haven?”

      She shrugged, and thought back to her own version of a haven she had been forced to leave. “Something like that. I’m from Georgia.” She couldn’t imagine being born and raised somewhere like Hollow Grove, and never having to leave. It might have sounded boring to some, but it was a dream to Sarah. “What’s this place like? I haven’t been here long enough to figure it out just yet.”

She seemed a little hesitant, this one, but she was still playing which was a point in her favour. It wasn’t a great shot, but she seemed pleased and Cal chuckled. “That you did, is a good place, too. Well done. Now you just have to do it twice more.” 

      “Right.” She nodded, as if maybe she had known that was part of the rules, and picked up the dart to shoot another two times. The second shot barely hit the board ---she supposed it had been beginner’s luck--- but the third hit close to her original shot. She collected the darts, and handed them over to Cal. “If your first shot’s any sign, I think you’ve got this in the bag.”

“That’s the spirit! The most fun is the game, after all, regardless of who wins or loses.” Cal smirked and walked over to pull the dart he’d just thrown out then returned and held them out for her. “Ladies first.” 

      She gave him a hesitant look, not entirely sure he believed that, but took the dart anyway. “Of course.” She rolled it between her fingers, and wished for the briefest of moments that she had somehow inherited her mother’s telekinesis. When she fired it off, it didn’t hit the bullseye, but it was by no means an awful shot. She resisted making an excited and self-satisfied noise. “Well ---I hit the board.”

Even though the girl seemed harmless, Audrey was Audrey and her nerves got the best of her. Even as she drove she kept eyeing the girl as if she were trying to determine any motive. “I don’t think I know them– then again, I don’t know half the town.” She pressed her lips together at the girl’s words, eyes flickering towards her, as she did her best to keep her eyes on the road. “Why do you call them your keepers? Are you in any trouble?”

      Sarah held back a sigh of relief when the woman revealed she didn’t likely know who they were. She was surprised by just how much she wanted to be separated from them ---it wasn’t her grandparents, specifically, but the Blackwood name. “Oh, no. No trouble. I’m sure I’ll run into some soon enough, but...” She shrugged, and finally released the sigh she’d been holding back. “They’re my grandparents. I just can’t wait to get my own place, you know?”

Damon narrowed his eyes at the woman’s confusion going on in her head. Names were said, and surely, both of them were hers. Damon always considered truth to be something of a given. That also went with being who you really were. But these days so many people had hidden who they were, tried to hide in order to fit some society rank, behavior, ethics. The new normal or what not. Apparently, that was something that the girl took to as well. Damon smiled as the woman ordered the gin. Truthfully, he probably should have said whiskey, which is good proofing water and told people who are real and who isn’t. But due to his mind, he was able to skip that. “Because you don’t look like a child for sweet drinks, though you may try to.” He grinned, finishing off his own drink. “You’re hiding.” He added as he took the next whiskey in his hand. “ That’s alright, darling.” He flashed her a smile, enjoying already where this was heading. “And to answer your questions, we definitely have not. But I am curious.” 

      Something about this man was... slimy. It seemed effortless, maybe even unintentional, for him to make her squirm. Sarah had seen people back in New Orleans who could drive a knife into someone’s head without any special abilities, who could dissect them and pluck the truth out just by being observant. She’d learned a few things from them, but most of all she learned how to spot a fraud. This man was not a fraud ---he wasn’t guessing, he knew what he was saying was the truth. As he spoke, she decided something. Her drink came, she knocked it back and resisted pulling a face at the taste. Perhaps he hadn’t intended for her to take it as a shot, but she needed a bit of liquid courage to do what she was about to do. Instead of speaking out loud, she made her thoughts clear and intentional, focused on one thing ; You’re in my head. 

He turned up the temperature in the car a few degrees to help her get warm faster, noticing the way that her teeth were chattering. “That’s exactly what the scary movie villain would say to get me to drop my guard. Make me laugh, try and drop the idea that I’m driving to certain doom.” He looked between Sarah and the road, starting towards the address she had given him. In the two years, Adam had lived in Hollow Grove he’d managed to learn most of the street names in the small town. “Vines? That sounds like something straight out a horror movie. I’m keeping my guard up. All that I ask is that, if I can’t make my dramatic escape to survive, my ghost gets a cool place to haunt. Somewhere that I can actually do creepy ghost stuff and don’t need to spend eternity waiting for one person to walk by.”

      She offered a thankful smile when he turned up the heat, and settled down into the seat as the air hit her and began to warm through her thin layers. “You’ve figured me out,” she laughed and shrugged a shoulder, a small movement with her hands still bundled up beneath her. If she was honest, it would most likely be her mother, if any Blackwood was going to kill him, but she wouldn’t say that. Nobody needed to know just how much disdain Sarah carried for the woman, or how vile she thought she could be. “I mean, if you die in the house... you’ll be stuck in the house, which I’m pretty sure is already haunted. Might be a little crowded."

Ronnie had all but abandoned Hair of the Dog since Isla had taken her words to heart and buffaloed her menu up a bit. It was a mix of fine dining that didn’t make her pull out her own personal bottle of buffalo sauce and she couldn’t have been happier. She was sure Isla was part witch with the way she’d made the food so damn good. And it was just another day in when she stopped on her way to her usual table and glared. Not at anyone in particular but a scent that was so closely tied to her fear that she couldn’t help the defensive rage that began to bubble inside of her. 

Scanning the faces inside the dining area she landed on the cover of a book and the scent that was all too familiar to the wolf. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she growled to herself as she stomped across the room and sat herself directly across from the person who was hiding behind the book. “What the actual fuck are you doing in my town?” Her tone was severe and almost didn’t sound like her, but Ronnie had learned long ago that masking fear with venom kept people alive a lot longer. And this witch certainly made her need that venom.

      Sarah knew she’d been caught before Ronnie was even at the table. Even without being able to see her from behind her small, literary hiding place, she could feel the other woman’s emotion stalking closer to her, and closer, until it was sat right across the table. Slowly, hesitantly, she let the book fall to her lap. Her hands remained clenched around it, warping the pages. The easy route would have been to force a wave of calm over Ronnie, to placate her and walk away from all this like nothing had happened. But she wasn’t that person any more. She couldn’t be. 

      Finally, she cleared her throat around a lump that had begun to form. “I’m not ---I didn’t...” God damn it. She couldn’t get back the other woman’s emotions, let alone her own dread at the confrontation before her, bound to happen. Words were a lot harder than she imagined they might be. “I-I didn’t know you were here.”

“Then let’s cross our fingers that shit warms up fast.” He loved the hotter months. Swimsuit season was always a favorite. Once Sara was securely in her seat, he closed the door and headed around to the driver’s side. The engine revved to life soon after, and before long, they were pulling out of the parking spot and off toward the fancy restaurant. One short, smooth ride later and he was swiftly swinging into the parking lot, hopping out to get the door for Sarah again. The whole ride through, he kept trying to calculate good transitions, figure out when she might be open to the idea he had in mind. Might take more than a day, he realized. Though she seemed like a girl who’d be open to the idea. He’d have to see throughout dinner if he could lead the conversation there. “So what’cha in the mood to eat?” he asked as they walked inside, the ambience pretty cozy and intimate. Perfect. The host led them to a booth near the back, away from the few people that also had the idea to eat there today. Tobias flipped open the menu once they were settled, scanning over the dishes listed. Time to get this girl introduced to the finer things in life. Or as fine as this town could go. “Get as much as whatever you want, okay? My treat.”

     As they drove, Sarah didn’t mind the quiet between them, brief as it was. It felt more comfortable than she expected it to, being in close quarters with a vampire, a sack full of blood in the back of the car... She didn’t like to think of herself as prejudiced, but she supposed she must have been, if finding the supernatural to seem human was such a surprise. She’d have to work on that. When they arrived and Tobias hopped out, she barely had time to reach the door handle before he had it open. She didn’t like having things done for her, and she disliked it even more when it came from a man with misguided ideas about chivalry ---but it didn’t seem like the latter applied to the vampire. Still, she took the chance to get to the door into the restaurant before him, and let him enter first, as if that might somehow make up for it in her mind. “Something I’d never know how to cook for myself,” she answered, and followed the host to their table. She looked over the menu, and her eyes flicked up to Tobias at his offer. “Really?” Brows lifted. “I mean, no, I can’t let you do that. This stuff... isn’t cheap.”

“Care to join me in a game? I’m sure that was a lucky shot and you’d still stand a chance. Loser buys the next round?” 

     Sarah knew better, or she should have, but she found herself agreeing anyway. “I’ve got a funny feeling I’ll lose, but... sure. Could still be fun, right?”

Despite how much he hated the Blackwell’s, he couldn’t deny the allure of Purgatory and it’s underground fight club. Following his win against a pathetic vampire who’d gotten too lippy with him, he made his way to the bar, still sweaty, bleeding and shirtless, enjoying a beer before he heard the same vampire he’d just beaten bragging about what his plans for the rest of the night involved, namely plans to compel himself a pretty blonde snack. Cole’s anger began to boil over, his knuckles white with how tightly he was holding his beer bottle, turning quickly and grabbing the vampire’s arm, pushing his back down and kicking him, sending the vampire to the floor. Crouching down, Cole glared at the vampire. “Don’t get up, stay down like the vermin you are.” He said, just loud enough for the vampire to hear, spitting blood that had began to pool in his mouth from a split lip onto the still grounded vampire’s cheek, before rising again and heading back to the bar, grabbing his beer to wash away the taste of blood.

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    Sarah, though a witch, had no better hearing than any human —certainly not the stuff of werewolves or vampires. So it was safe to say she heard nothing of the man discussing how he planned to spend the rest of his evening. What she did take note of, though, was a ripple of anger coming from another man at the bar ; a feeling so strong she couldn’t help her own jaw clenching, her hand tightening around the glass she held. Even with all her control, it was a feeling so easy to pinpoint she saw his actions coming before he’d even lifted a finger towards the other. It was the sort of feeling that pulled her in, that made her endlessly curious to know where it might have come from. When the coast seemed clear enough, and she was able to quit grinding her teeth, she made her way to the bar under the guise of ordering herself a refill. She glanced at the man, something white hot still lingering around him. “So… what’d the poor guy do to deserve all that?”

“I’ve never really been one for a lot of colour, I always wear dark colours or neutrals; this is a lot to take in - it’s beautiful, just… different.” She replied. Colour hadn’t really be an option to her when she was growing up, it stood out too much, made her too noticeable; and she’d never really grown out of wearing neutrals. “So make it your thing.” Avery suggested. “Business casual in pretty easy to tailor to a style; so what’s your style?”

He cranked the heat up a notch as she slipped into the car, and turned the volume down on the music. Suddenly he wished that he’d taken his car through the drive-thru more recently. His dashboard was a lesson in organized chaos with bits of things from all the friends and siblings that had recently been passengers. He had a small decorative drum sticks hanging from the rear view mirror. “It’s tempting,” he paused for effect. “But I’ve got an early start in the morning. It’d just be way too inconvenient.”

He smiled, offering the stranger his hand. “It’s Jack in any case. Welcome to Hollow Grove, newb.”