Night Bloom

By R. G. Hunsaker

All Sophie Bloom has ever known is a quiet, sheltered life with her abysmally normal parents, who just left for an anniversary trip. Having just moved to the beach cities of California, her biggest worry is whether the embarrassment that is her mother’s ancient, sputtering car might affect her ability to make friends in her upcoming junior

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Hunsaker
• Release date: Apr 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781947117013

R. G. Hunsaker

R.G. Hunsaker has lived in the evocative beach cities of Southern California for over 20 years, providing the rich backdrop for Sophie's adventures. When she's not crafting tales, you can find her designing patterns, reading books, channeling her creativity onto canvas, or whipping up delicious treats for her loved ones. With degrees in both Fashion Design and Production, as well as Business Management, Rachel now calls Nevada home, where she resides with her husband and children. "Night Bloom" stands as her debut novel in the realm of young adult and middle-grade fiction. You can find her at www.rghunsaker.com.

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NIGHT BLOOM

BOOK ONE OF THE NIGHT BLOOM SAGA

R.G. HUNSAKER

CARSON CITY

Copyright © 2017 by R.G. Hunsaker.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

Contact:

mailto:[e-mail]

Carson City, NV 89701

http://www.rghunsaker.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Book and Cover Design ©2017 Rachel Hunsaker

Edition 2- Art & Cover Design ©2023 Rachel Hunsaker

Ordering Information:

Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the Special Sales Department at the address above.

Night Bloom/ R.G. Hunsaker. – 2nd ed.

ISBN 978-1-947117-00-6 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-947117-02-0 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-947117-01-3 (e-book)

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For Adam and our kids

PROLOGUE

I’m so proud of you, he whispered. The tiny infant in his arms stirred slightly.

She’s asleep, she can’t hear you, Avabelle said as she watched her dad cradle her daughter. Feelings of pride and sadness mixed inside her. She wished she could stay here, in this moment, forever.

She took one last look around her room, trying to commit it all to memory. The vaulted ceilings stretched high above into the night sky as the candlelight flickered off the gold accents around the room. The marble floor was polished to a high gloss and reflected the light all around them. She leaned against the oversized pillows propped up behind her. The sheer drapes on her four poster bed were tied back with thick luxurious ropes and dripping with tassels the size of a melon. Her armor was polished and waiting for her on a table by the end of her bed. This room had been a refuge and welcomed her when she came back from wars. She never dreamed it would house her daughter someday.

Are you ready for the life you’ve chosen? the old man looked up from his granddaughter and the look of concern grew across his face. The world is a dangerous place, and I won’t be there to help you.

I know, Avabelle quietly replied. She brushed the hair away from the tiny babe’s eyes. The little girl let out a sigh and smiled in her sleep. But it’s what we both want. She turned towards her husband’s direction on the other side of the great room. He was snoring slightly in one of the overstuffed velvet arm chairs in the corner.

But what do YOU want?

Avabelle didn’t dare speak what her heart yearned for. A life here. Surrounded by those she loved and safe from all the dangers of the world, with complete safety for her only child.

I want her to live an ordinary life, said Avabelle.

Ordinary is overrated, snuffed the grandfather. She was born for greatness. She was born to rule.

That may be, but I don’t want it forced on her, Avabelle replied. Her father beamed as he snuggled the baby close to him. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him so happy and content. I promise there will be a day when she learns the truth about everything. And when that day comes, I want to be the one to tell her.

The baby’s grandfather reluctantly handed her back to her mother and sat on the bed next to them. Avabelle cradled Sophie’s little head in the crook of her arm.

But why on Earth does she have to?

It’s good to struggle, Avabelle said. It builds character.

The man nodded his head in agreement. Just then, a raven flew into the room and sat on a wooden perch by the window. The king walked over, his long coat and robes dragging on the floor behind him. He snatched the paper from the bird’s leg and a look of concern grew over his face as he read the contents.

News of Sophie’s birth has spread, he looked at Avabelle and the baby resting in her arms. It won’t be long before your sisters find out. Protect her from them. He walked to his son-in-law sleeping in the corner and shook his shoulder. You all need to leave. NOW.

1 No More Running

I walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down. It was a long drop into the ocean. How big of a splash would Mom’s car make? Maybe the longer the station wagon, the taller the splash? I would be doing her a favor; her car was a piece of junk. But then again, I doubt she would even let me touch the keys of her new car, though—let alone drive it.

Man, I really need to get my own car. It’s so embarrassing driving around in this thing. It still has the I’m proud of my honor student sticker from my elementary school—not to mention a presidential campaign sticker of the losing party. Yes, let’s please remind everyone what losers we are. My parents weren’t hurting for money; I don’t know why they had to live like they were. I could die of humiliation in this car.

No one look at me, I thought to myself.

I put on Mom’s sunglasses and slumped lower in the driver’s seat as I drove away from the cliff. Then I turned the music off and rolled down the window. The Californian sun warmed my left arm as a warm breeze blew straight into my face. I always thought that the salt of the ocean breeze was nature’s own spice of life. My thoughts quieted with the sound of the wind rushing past me. This was a welcome change: the ability to look out a window and see the endless ocean, observe the cobalt water melting into a robin's egg blue sky as it kissed the horizon. I could get used to that. Maybe moving wasn’t the worst thing to happen this year.

The gravel driveway crunched under my pink fuzzy slippers as I walked to the front door. I fumbled with every key on Mom’s key ring until a shiny new silver one finally let me in. The welcoming blast of air cooled me off as I walked across the cherry mahogany floors. I took the stairs two at a time to get to my room, the smell of lavender greeting me as I opened the door. Mom had secretly done my laundry before she left on their trip. Love her.

I kicked off my slippers and threw my pajamas in a pile on the floor. Then I rummaged through my moving boxes until I found a running outfit, and shoved my feet into my cross trainers. I decided against makeup—the only people I would see now were runners, and it's not like I was trying to impress them. They would be just as soaked in sweat and red in the face as I was bound to be, so there wasn’t any point wearing makeup if I was just going to sweat off in stripes. I quickly ran a flat brush through my burgundy hair, no need to look like a total slob.

I made my way down the stairs, pausing to glance at the pictures mom had hung up. She managed to include every one of my school photos, even the embarrassing ones with the ugly Christmas sweaters. Who wears Christmas sweaters in a school picture taken in September? It’s like…you would have to plan ahead to have an ugly sweater that even fits that year. And why would you do it again the following year? I’ll forgive her for that though, especially since she did put up the photo from my last track meet—the one with a random cute guy in the background.

On my way out the door, I grabbed a few granola bars from the bowl Mom had left out. Still worried I'll forget to eat and slip into a hypoglycemic coma. Even though I’m not hypoglycemic. That’s just what happens when your mom is overprotective.

I sat in the car, no idea what to do next. I felt emotionally exhausted after sending my parents on a plane to their second secret honeymoon destination, it was Alaska. So I wasn’t really in the mood for witty banter or to put up with any creeps. Guess I’m avoiding the running trails on the beach today. In the end, I didn’t have to think. It was as if the ignition key turned itself and the car knew where to take me.  I yearned for the solitude of nature, remembering the new trail I had scouted out last week.

As I pulled up and climbed out of the car, the path was exactly as I remembered. Lush with foliage and big oak trees that blocked the sunlight, only streaks of light filtered through onto the path. Beautiful, peaceful, and quiet. It was perfect.

I started to run in place as I put my headphones on, excited to try out the new mix of songs I had put together. They were a perfect blend of teenage angst, a dash of self-loathing, and a hint of first love. I was ready to jog away all my tension and nervous energy. The dirt path sank with every one of my footsteps. Leaves rustled, revealing pinpricks of light as they fluttered in the light breeze. A nervous little squirrel hurried across the path, pausing a moment to look at me. I smiled at the mangy thing.

A warm sensation on my neck suddenly made me shudder.

I looked behind me.  I was deep into the wood now; there was no sign of my car anywhere. No sign of anything—just nature and I. I glanced up at the trees; the sun was barely peeking through the oak leaves.

Odd. I must be imagining things.

I felt uneasy as I continued running as if there were eyes on me. The hair stood up on my arms. It was unsettling, this feeling. Come on. Stop creeping yourself out. I ran a little faster, and with purpose. My eyes scanned the bushes on either side. Nothing but green leaves and some dark purple berries. The songs continued to play in my ears.

Calm down Sophie. The world’s not out to get you. Relax. I tried to convince myself I was making the whole thing up. My mind, after all, had played tricks on me before. But the feeling was insistent: Turn around and go back home. NOW, NOW, NOW it seemed to say.  I really wish you would hush. I turned the music louder, no longer hearing the wind rushing past me. I wiped the sweat off of my forehead and glanced at my watch. Had it already been thirty minutes? I jogged in place as the wind cooled me down. My warm, flushed skin was pulsing to the music. With no idea where I was nor where I would end up, I continued running forward. I felt giddy and excited as I continued down this unknown path. The recklessness of it pumped up my adrenaline with every step.

The path curved around sickly dead trees. Suddenly, my lovely oaks were nowhere to be seen. The path was lost now. The air began to get thick and foggy and I couldn’t see more than ten feet in front of me. Clouds had rolled overhead and were covering the last remnants of sunlight. I’ll have to head back. I bent down to tie my shoelace.

That's when I saw him behind me.

He wore a white tank top and dark jeans. They looked very clean even though we were surrounded by dirt trails and trees. His face was angular and his prominent cheekbones looked like they could cut through steel. But it was his eyes that caught my attention.

His eyes were red.

They pierced through me as if he could see into my soul and instantly knew all of my insecurities and dark secrets. I began to shake. He had a squirrel in one hand and blood dripping down the side of his mouth. He tossed the squirrel aside into the bushes, then smiled at me.

A snack, he said. His lips curled up in anticipation.

I stood up so I could run. He was faster.

His hand brushed down my neck. His warm breath sent chills running through my body. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as he sniffed me. Where do you think you are going? he smirked. We're going to have some fun. Red drops of blood fell from his fangs onto the dirt path. Fangs? I briefly thought about how the drops matched his eyes.

Get out of here! Run! Run! My mind was racing as I tried to make my body move, but I was frozen. I could not move. I don’t know how but he had frozen me in this moment, so he could torture me before he killed me or…I was afraid to think of any other reasons for it.

You don't scare me, I lied, hoping he wouldn't notice my voice cracking.

His fangs make a whooshing sound as they pushed out further.

I closed my eyes.

You know you want this, he whispered on my neck.

My hands gripped my keys. I could feel him breathing on my neck, his hand brushing my hair back. I felt two sharp points on my neck, like hornets landing. I guess this is it. Now or never. With nothing left to lose, I fought his hold over me.  Raising my hand with the sharpest key clutched in my grip, I jabbed in his direction. But I missed. I jabbed only at air.

I opened my eyes and looked around. Sprawled several feet away was my attacker’s limp body. Someone was crouching over him.

Are you okay? the new man asked me. I just stared at him.

Who are you? What do you want? I thought to myself. My hands clutched my keys tighter.

You're safe now, he said. I won't hurt you. He put his hands up as if a sign of peace.

I relaxed a little.

Did he hurt you?

Without thinking, I grabbed my neck. I tried to feel the puncture wounds but found nothing.

Let me, he said. Slowly and cautiously he walked towards me, hands still up. I don't know why I was trusting him. I have no reason to. For all I know, he killed the other guy. He could be lying and kill me, too. But there was something about his bright blue eyes that calmed me. Something about the smile and the genuine concern on his face. For a second, I thought I recognized him from somewhere, but my mind couldn’t focus. I felt safe near him. I turned my head and let him look at my neck. His fingers stroked the site—no entry wounds.

You're okay, but we need to get you out of here, he said. He saw the look of bewilderment on my face. Trust me, he said, as he scooped me up in his arms. Fast as a specter, he sped through the trail, so fast I could swear we were flying. The wind ripped across my face. Oh, you smell so good. The trees blurred past us as fast as car headlights on the freeway. A branch whipped past my shoulder, I wrapped my arms tighter around him. Please don’t let me fall. I closed my eyes; I felt dizzy and faint as my stomach turned with uneasiness. With my keys, he opened the driver's side of my car and sat me down on the seat. I sat with my legs out of the car, trying to take in deep breaths.

Relax, he said. Eat something. You'll feel better. I pulled the granola bar out and opened it. The chewy oats and chocolate chips were sweet in my mouth. Feel better? he asked. I nodded my head. Good, he said. I need to finish that matter. I'll be right back.

I tried to choke down the granola in my mouth as fast as I could. What’s your name? Who are you? Thank you for saving me! But it was too late. He was gone before I could ask a single question. I sat in my car, hoping for him to return.

Vampires in California.

I searched the internet for answers. Depending on the website I came across, they gave varying reasons on why vampires would flock to California. Surfers are high in Vitamin D, there’s a dense