the Himalayan Spying Game

the Himalayan Spying Game

Juliet groaned and clamped a hand over her stomach. She looked like she was about to hurl, and secretly she already had over the brick wall into neighbor Ben Chagney's azalea bushes. It wasn't something she ate, or because Emery just swallowed a small pint of blood in the shade of an ominously dark umbrella (he had to be fed on a hourly basis or he would start getting cranky), or even because Dena feasted on a peanut butter and turkey sandwich on a floatie in the pool.

It was a womanly problem.

“I hope Ben doesn't mind hotdog chunks on his azaleas,” Emery sucked the last of the type B- out of the baggie and wiped his mouth clean. “It'd be a shame.”

“It gives it decoration,” Dena waved off and lounged back in her float, soaking up the brilliant summer sun. She stretched out over the neon green float, her two-piece the exact green to match, her aviator shades swallowing her face. “Take some Midol, hon. You'll be better off.”

Juliet laid across the thick brick wall. “Not tonight I won't,” she responded sourly. The sun was so hot, it baked the bricks under her, but she didn't feel like moving, and the last time she tried she decorated Ben's azalea bushes. “Why aren't you on schedule with me, Dena?”

Her best friend smiled. “Oh, I am, hon. I am.”

“But God just hates me, right?”

“We both know God's got nothing to do with this. It's Cullen who hates you.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered darkly. It was almost tangible how badly she wanted to push the sun back up into the sky for a while longer just to prolong Cullen from coming. Nights weren't especially her favorite time of day. “Why can't we just shoot down the moon so it'll never get dark?”

“The moon's pretty though,” Emery replied and took an old newspaper out from underneath his lawn chair. He opened it and began scanning through the Daily section. He adjusted his sunglasses and tilted the umbrella a bit to the left to shade him a little more. “Besides, I personally enjoy the night.”

Dena snorted. “Wonder why.”

“It's particularly relaxing, really,” he continued, ignoring her. “And it's not like the night hates you either, Juliet. It's just the way things work here in Connection. At least you're not a vampire.”

“Or a goblin, like my Uncle Rex,” Dena rolled off her floaty and swam to the edge of the pool nearest her friends. She propped her stick-thin arms up and rested her heart-shaped head on her long, stick-like hands. When Juliet first met her, she thought Dena was emaciated, but alas, it was just another twist in Connection. Another “situation”.

Dena was beautiful in her own way. She was taller than most boys, and as thin as a sapling. Her skin was the color of chestnuts, and her eyes milky white. Golden veins rose up under her skin in the sun, and sparkled like a million tiny diamonds flowing through her bloodstream. If her bathing suit didn't cover her chest, Juliet knew she would be able to see Dena's heart beating visibly through a translucent ribcage, glowing obsidian. She didn't have fingernails, or toenails, and on good days you couldn't even tell she had an extra set of arms. Most of Connection called her Twiggy. Most of Connection High called her a Freak.

Her friends called her Dena Sophia Honeycutt, and she didn't care about the other names.

“Hon, try the water. It's great,” Dena patted the water. “You must be boiling up there.”

“I can't move, and if I did I'd make the water go red.”

“Ooh, heavy flow?”

“You have no idea.”

Emery snorted.

Juliet sighed. “Fine, you know. Can smell it from a mile away, huh?”

“Probably two miles today,” was his reply as he flipped to the next page.

“Stupid vampire,” Juliet grumbled, flushing red.

“Stupid transvestite.”

“HEY!” the menstruating young woman glared. “You know that's not true!”

He shrugged. “Close enough.”

In the pool, Dena sank down sullenly and began blowing bubbles morosely. Where's the first aid kit? was close to her thought process.

Juliet sat up on the brick wall. “Fag!” she spat.

“Closet queen,” Emery sat up straight in his lawn chair and narrowed his beautiful golden eyes. He watched Juliet hop down from the brick wall and fist her hands. He smirked.

“Homophile!”

“Cross-dresser.”

Closer Juliet came. “Queer bloodsucker!”

Emery stood. “Female impersonator!”

“Well at least I don't drink blood!”

“At least I don't menstruate!”

They stood, barely an inch apart. “Gay!”

“Butch!”

“GUYS!” And a wave of pool water pelted them both in the side. Juliet and Emery turned to face Dena, teeth bared. One with two-inch fangs. One with a male complex. Both as wet as dogs. Dena stood in the shallow end, hands on her translucent hips, milky eyes narrowed. She frowned. “Behave you two, got it?”

“Behave?” they growled in return.

“With him?” Juliet shot the vampire a glowering glare.

“With him?” Emery spat.

That was the last straw. The brunette jumped the vampire and wrangled him around the neck, and cut off his airway. Emery gagged and fastened his hands around her arms, and lost his balance. He fell backwards, knocking over his umbrella and lawn chair in the process. Juliet squeezed harder. Emery clawed at her to let go. They fell into a tangled heap on the grass.

Time seemed to slow. Dena cried and launched herself towards them. Juliet lay, frozen. Blinding sun shone above, hot and sweltering and strangely beautiful. Not a cloud littered the crystalline blue sky. A perfect day.

A perfectly horrible day to be a vampire.

Emery let out a horrific scream, as loud and frightening as a banshee cry, as the sunlight poured in.

~*~

Roe Castillo had just sat down to eat a bowl of ice cream on the patio when he saw the azaleas decorated with hotdog chunks. At first, he thought it was just dead blooms, but the closer he got the stronger the smell became. He gagged and pointed his spoon at it. “Hey, Ben, did you throw a party last night without inviting me?”

“No,” Ben managed in between a chomp of Rocky Road. “Why---” he came closer “---OHMYGOD. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” He rushed to his azaleas and threw down his dish of ice cream. It splattered on Roe's good converses. A low, lupine rumble shook his chest. “Juliet...” he growled.

Roe shook the ice cream off his foot. “How do you know she upchucked on your bushes?”

“I can smell her. Can't you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

The blonde hairs on Ben's arms grew dark brown. Furry. His nails lengthened. “First she steals a lily. Then a rose. Then she lets a mole loose in my yard ---”

“In all fairness,” Roe commented, “Cullen did that one.”

“She'll pay for this!”

“Dude, just let it go. She's got good aim to just hit one of 'em. Give her credit for that.”

Ben turned his yellowing eyes slowly towards his best friend, and bared razor sharp teeth. His best friend raised a off-white eyebrow. Anyone in their right mind wouldn't be within teen feet of Ben Chagney when his precious garden was involved. Most of the people who did left the house with scars and ended up shitting themselves stupid. Not Roe. He'd left with a scar crossing down his left eye, and damp underwear the first time he met Ben Chagney and plucked a rose from his garden, but after that nothing phased him. That's what happens when you face the Beast when your seven. Scarred for life.

“Ben. It's a shrub. Get over it.”

“Get over it?” his voice deepened.

“Yes, get over it. Or, wait, better yet,” he dug into his pockets and took out his cellphone, “I'll just dial your anger management counselor and we'll see what he has to say.”

All anger evaporated in a quick gasp. “No, wait.” Dashing Ben returned, blonde hair, manicured nails, and all. “I don't care. Just a shrub, right? Just a shrub!”

“Exactly.” And Roe put his phone back into his pocket. “So, about tonight.”

“Double dates with Egan and Kellis, yeah,” Ben said wearily. He smoothed back his blonde hair and wandered back to the patio, and darted his eyes back one more time to his poor azalea bush. When not a furry beast, Ben was quite an alluring young man. Baby blue eyes, thick lips, beautiful white smile, roman nose. Very Princely. He even walked Princely, and usually had royal manners unless someone messed with his garden. Hey, at least he wasn't possessive over a woman instead. “Hopefully I won't lose my temper.”

“Nah, 'course not. That's why you got me,” Roe slung his arm over his best friend's shoulder. “So I can keep you in line.”

“God, my birthday's in a week. How the hell can you keep me in check for a week?”

“Don't worry about that. We'll find someone for you. No worries.”

“Maybe,” was Ben's hopeless reply. He shrugged his friend off and slid open the glass door. “I'm going to get some more ice cr---”

A horrible scream pierced through the air. It stopped Ben cold in his tracks. It curled Roe's blood. Ben knew the scream. He could smell the blood, the smoke, the sunlight. He put two and two together. Without a word, both boys turned towards the brick wall, scaled it, and met the sight of a vampire baking in the sun.