Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter 1 : New Kid - Jasper

I wake up, choking on my own breath, as I claw at beasts that aren’t there.

When I finally realize where I am, a part of me calms down. I’m in my bed, in my new house, safe. Well, as safe as I can be. There are still claw marks running across my chest and down my arms.

I did it to myself, I think, but even I cannot convince myself. These marks are too big to have been made by my hands. I lay back in my bed and close my eyes. I try to focus on breathing and trying to slow my racing heart. I don’t mind the dreams, but I hate the aftermath.

I think that the knowing she’s not real is the worst part. In the dreams, I’m not complete until she’s in my arms. I’m not truly alive until I’m with her. Then, when I wake, I always must convince myself that she’s not real. A simple figment of my imagination.

Despite the rational part of me knowing that she’s not real, there’s another part of me…a less rational part. A part of me, which is bigger than I’d like to admit, knows that she has to be out there somewhere. My simple imagination couldn’t conjure up such a creature. That part believes that somewhere in the world, she’s there. Right now, she’d be sitting in her room, which is purple, a fact I know from the dreams, sipping on her favorite tea (chai with extra sugar, cinnamon, and clove added) as she reads her dogeared copy of some book she’s read a hundred times before.

This part of me only gets stronger when I have the dreams because every time, the dream is more realistic. Every time, my senses are more aware. Every time, my death is more vivid. Now, it’s to the point where it’s hardly a dream anymore. The right word would be premonition.

I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to force the dream from my mind, but it’s not quite possible. Not when I can still feel the teeth of the wolves piercing into my skin. I don’t realize that I’m shaking until I grope for one of the half-filled bottles of water that litter my nightstand. I give up and rake my fingers through my curly hair. I’m unable to do anything else but sit on my bed, rocking back and forth slightly. My coping is interrupted by a quiet knock at my door.

“Jasper? Are you alright?” My mother asks. Her French accented voice is soothing to me, but I don’t want to worry her. Just as I clear my throat to answer her, she pushes open the door. I cannot imagine how I must look. My hair must be a mess and the claw marks haven’t faded yet.

Her eyes are wide with worry. She’s wearing a long silk nightgown that one my sisters got for her in Paris before we left.

“Did you have the dream again?” she asks, moving to sit down on my bed. I nod and rest my head on my knees. She sets a cool hand on my shoulder.

“They’re getting worse, aren’t they? I wish you would let me take you to Mama.” My mother is the only one I’ve told about the dreams. But she doesn’t know how bad they’ve gotten.

“She would know how to help. Most have dreams of their mates before they’ve met them. But yours are worse than I’ve ever seen.”

“She’s a wolf, Mama,” I murmur quietly, “So obviously, the dreams are a mistake. She’s not my mate, she’s not real.” Even over my heavy breathing, I hear her inhale sharply at the word wolf. She looks at the door for, I’m assuming, my dad.

“You cannot tell you father this. Okay? You can’t tell anyone. This, what you’re going through, it’s forbidden. The penalty for having suspicious interactions is a probation. Being mated to one would mean exile. If you do meet her, if she is real, you need to be very careful. Your father will be expected to exile you without a second thought. And you know what his position means to him.” She stands up and beckons me to follow her.

“Has this happened before?” I ask her in a voice that is hardly a whisper as we tiptoe down the halls of our new home. She nods before pushing open a heavy, dark wooden door. This is the only completely furnished room in the house. Dad always has his study finished first. Books line the room, from floor to ceiling. His desk is neat and tidy, and there’s a book laying open. He hates my sisters and me being in here, but he has no qualms with my mother roaming through. I wonder how he would feel about her allowing my being in here.

“It happened when my grandmother was a child. She was the psychic of the coven. She always told me stories of her visions. She knew I would have them when I was of age. One of them was of a girl, her friend, from her coven before she married your great grandfather.” She speaks quickly and quietly. I nod as she finds the book she’s looking for. She sets it on the wooden bookstand I made for my father last year. She flips through the pages, dust flying from them as she does until she lands on one.

“Her name was Agnes. She was German, a girl adopted by the coven. She was 18 when she started having the dreams. My grandmother told her to keep quiet about them, but the girl was scared. The dreams got worse. Any wounds she would sustain in the dreams would be there when she woke. The elders found out eventually when she found the boy from her dreams. He was a wolf. The coven found them together in an old shelter used during wars,” she tells me as she drags her finger alo the page, leaving a long mark in the dust

“They called them the forbidden ones. They killed the boy when they found him. And she’s never mentioned in the records again. Grandmother said she didn’t know what happened. I thought the records would at least mention it.”

“What am I supposed to do? If she is real?”

“Ignore it. Ignore her. Don’t take her as your mate. At least, not until you’re away from here.” There are heavy footsteps down the hall, loud enough to make us both jump. With movements too quick for a human eye to see, she puts the book away and retrieves a family album. When my father walks in, we’re flipping through pictures of this house when it belonged to his family roughly two centuries before.

“What are you two doing in here? It’s three in the morning.” My mother looks up innocently as if she hadn’t seen him.

“Oh, Louis, I didn’t know you were up. I couldn’t sleep, and I checked on the kids. Jasper was up.” My father arched a blonde eyebrow. I got most of my looks from him. We look just alike aside from the difference in our pigmentation. My mother, a French black, was the one my sisters and I took after more.

“And you two decided to just hang out in the study?” He is suspicious.

“Well, Jasper brought up the fact that he had no idea about the history of the house,” Mama lies effortlessly, and her eyes shine innocently at my father. He pushes his disheveled, blonde hair from his eyes. I smile and yawn, making sure that I do it almost dramatically.

“Well, Mama, thanks. I’m beat.” She nods and brings me close before pressing her lips to my temple. As she does, she whispers, “Good job,” so low that I know my father couldn’t have heard. I smile at my father before he gives me a firm clap on the shoulder.

When I wake up again, the sun is up and my throat is burning with thirst. I sit up in my bed as I look around my sadly plain room. Goosebumps spread across my body as a gust of cold air fills my room. It’s January. Today will be the first day back to school for students, but today will be my fifth first day since I started high school. I look glumly at my dresser and the mirror resting on it shows my reflection staring back at me. It’s only six in the morning, but I’m wide awake. I get out of bed and walk to my bathroom. At least I have my own this time. I strip quickly and get into the shower without waiting for it to heat up. The cold water is a shock to my system, and for a moment, all I can think about is the water. But even though the water’s unbearable, the nightmare still creeps back into my mind. I shake my head and try my hardest to push the dream away. Finally, when my body can’t take it anymore, I turn the water to warm. My muscles practically sigh in relief.

I get dressed slowly before trudging my way down the stairs. My parents are making breakfast as they do every ‘first day’. I frowned and slumped into my seat. Dad looks up from his laptop to my face. He frowns at me before lifting his coffee mug.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in French.

“We’re in the states now, Dad. You can speak English.” He rolls his eyes before asking again, still in French. I chuckle a little but keep my frown.

“It’s the fifth ‘first day’. I’m tired of all of this moving around.”

My father answers through a heavy sigh, “Well, it’s hard for an entire coven to move to a place without drawing suspicion. And the girls outed us last time when those hunters found them.” I look over to my sisters. They glare at me.

“Well, if he had been a better lookout­­ we wouldn’t ha–” Ellie says as she waves her fork at me. My dad rolls his eyes and interrupts her.

“Even so, you’re mature enough to understand why we do what we do. You will have to do the same thing when you have children. And then, they will do it, too. Because we have to keep our children safe. We aren’t like humans, we don’t get the luxury of anonymity. We’ll always stand out, and we’ll always have to run. Because, otherwise, they’ll destroy us.” I hate to admit it, but he’s right. And I know why we always have to move. I know what we are. All I have to do is look at the glass in front of me, filled with blood, to figure that out.

“I understand. And I’m not hungry.” I am, however, thirsty. I take a long chug of the glass. I wrinkle my nose and set it down.

“Pig’s blood?” My mother nods and sighs.

“It’s not great, but we couldn’t find anything else on such short notice. And we don’t want to let you guys start hunting yet…you don’t know the area well enough. So, it will have to do for now.” I nod and sigh before picking up my bag.

“Are you taking them?” I ask my mom. She nods before handing me a thermos. I twist off the lid and inhale. Blood.

“Lunch?” I ask. She smiles and nods.

“Thank you. I’m going to go ahead and get to school. I need to get my schedule and stuff.” My father nods and stands up. In a rare show of affection towards me, he pulls me into a tight hug.

“I know this isn’t easy, and I wish it were different. I just need you to keep it together.” I nod as we pull away. My father looks at me for a long second, and I think he’s going to say something affectionate, like an ‘I love you’, but the only person who’s ever gotten that sort of affection is my mother. Instead, I get a quiet, “You’re a good kid.”

I almost laugh but manage to swallow it down. I give him a nod and grab my set of keys before finding my bag in the room next to the kitchen. It’s unclear what that room will be yet. It’s just filled with boxes carelessly placed around the room.

The school is the biggest one I’ve been to. It’s colonial in style, with brick walls and large white pillars. Just looking at it intimidates me. One large school. 2,000 students. 1 more new kid. I find a spot in what I assume is a student parking lot and take a second to collect myself. As I take a long drag of a cigarette, the dream creeps back into my mind. I wish she were here with me. I wish she was holding my hand, bringing to her lips as she does in the dream. It’s weird. I miss her. I miss the way she smells. I miss tracing the ink that runs across her body in swirling and changing patterns. I rest my head on the cool steering wheel for a long minute. Finally, I drag myself from the car. I walk to the school and jog up the steps. Luckily, the front office is right by the door. I walk in and my nose is immediately assaulted by the scent of lavender. Overpowering lavender. Vampires have heightened senses, the sense of smell being pretty much the strongest. I wrinkle my nose and walk to the desk. The woman behind it looks as if she’s in her sixties. She’s on the telephone, laughing loudly, and looks up with me with green eyes as she speaks. She holds up a wrinkled finger at me before continuing her conversation. For another five minutes. Five minutes of me staring at the desk and the dust layering her computer.

“Sorry about that, darling. My niece, Jolene, was having trouble with her television. What do you need?”

“Um, I’m new. They told me to come to get my schedule and all that. My name is Jasper Caron.” She looks at me and then to her computer with a look of dread. She types slowly. Very slowly.

“Ah, here we go. Oh, you’re a smart one.” She hands me a piece of paper, my schedule, and watches as I look over it.

“Do you have a map?” I ask. She frowns at me.

“Well, no, but there are a few students who you’ll have all classes with. Except for study hall. We’ve asked one of them if she would show you around. The valedictorian, Artemis Fields.” The name is a slap in my face. Artemis. My Arty?

“She should be here any–” she’s interrupted by the door squeaking open. And there she is. Book and all. My heart starts racing and my mouth drops open. The recognition is in her eyes. She knows me. She knows me!

“Oh, have you two met?” the lady asks. Is it that obvious? It’s taking everything inside of me to not pull her into my arms.

“No, ma’am,” Arty says. A piece of me feels hurt. Maybe she doesn’t know me. Maybe it’s all a huge coincidence. She holds her hand out to me.

“Artemis. And you are?”

“Jasper. I’m Jasper.” There’s something in her eyes. Shock. And that’s when I know I’m right. Our hands touch, and heat spreads through me. She’s my Arty.

“Artemis, if you wouldn’t mind showing Jasper around and to his classes,” the lady says.

“No problem,” Arty says. She goes to open the door, but I hurry to open the door for her. As soon as it shuts, her calm demeanor fades.

Now a goddess of wrath, she shoves me, “What the hell do you think you’re doing here? Haven’t you been having the dreams? Why would you come here? They’ll kill you. You know that.” She’s angry, but under that, I can see how scared she is. Her cheeks flush and rakes her hands through her long hair.

I’m stunned, “The dreams?” I ask. She nods, giving me the look that you’d give a child asking obvious questions. She looks around us before pulling me with her.

“You’ve had the dreams. I know you have; I’ve felt it when I have them. And they’re not just dreams. If you don’t leave, you will die. And I can’t see that happen. Do you know what those visions have done to me? Seeing you die every night is torture. And then, it’s not real. If you don’t leave, it will be real. I can’t see you die. I can’t.” Her voice grows thick and tears cloud her luminescent yellow eyes.

“You’re real. You’re actually real.” She rolls her eyes and grabs my arm, pinching my flesh hard. I recoil.

“Yes, I am. Obviously. Now, please, leave.” I shake my head and cross my arms.

“You have been driving me insane for months. And I find out that you’re actually real, and now, you want me to leave? Not happening.” She grabs my hands in hers.

“Jasper, if you stay here, you will die. Don’t you understand that?” she asks, but all I can think about is how I want to wrap my arms around her and not let her go. I’ve finally found her. Even though meeting her is just a warning of my coming death, I don’t think I could walk out of the school. Or even open the door. All I can think about is her.

Finally, I collect my thoughts, “I can’t leave. My parents just put the rest of their savings into this. They had to buy my dad’s family house and then land for the coven. This is our last chance. I can’t ruin it for my sisters.”

Artemis lets out a long sigh, “Did you know you’d find me here?” I shake my head and meet her eyes. My hand moves out and strokes her cheek. She tilts her head to lean into my hand. She’s warmer than me, hotter than any human. It’s a nice change to feel that heat against my cool skin.

“So, what? You’re going to stay?” I shrug and nod. She closes her eyes.

“I can’t do anything else.” She pulls away from my hand and pulls back from me.

“Then we have to stay away from each other. Okay?” I shake my head and bit down on my bottom lip.

“How can I do that, Arty? How can you? You’ve been all I’ve thought about since the dreams began. Can you really say that you want me to stay away from you? We’re supposed to be together.” She frowns at me. Her wise eyes get angry.

“Of course, I don’t want that. But I don’t want you to die. I don’t know what I’d do,” she whispers. I shake my head, trying to convince myself as much as her when I say, “We know what’s in the dreams. So, we can avoid it. It can’t happen if we don’t allow it to.” She shakes her head. I don’t know if she realizes, but she’s holding my hand in hers.

“What if that doesn’t work? I think we should just stay away from each other. At least for a while.”

“You won’t even give it a chance?” I ask her. The moment I saw her in the office, my heart swelled. The girl I had been obsessed with for months was real. And now, she wants to just stay away?

Artemis closes her eyes tightly, “Jasper, I can’t see you die. That will destroy me. And being with me will get you killed.” I cup her face in my hands. My forehead rests on hers. She places her hands on my waist and tilts her head back so that our lips meet. The relief of kissing her fills me up, like an addict getting a fix. I turn so that her back is pressed against the lockers and my body is pressed against hers. My hands tangle in her hair, and her lips part more so that her tongue touches my bottom lip.

“Artemis,” I murmur against her lips. Heat sparks between us, and I finally understand the weird energy between mates in my coven. One of my hands frees from her hair and moves to hold her closer, to feel her flesh as if to assure me that she was here in this moment. I groan into her mouth and force myself to break away. She looks up at me with wide eyes, panting through swollen lips.

“Tell me you can stay away. Because feeling that, I don’t know how I’m supposed to,” I whisper.

She sighs, “I know. Okay, I don’t think I could either. We don’t have long before first bell. Come on.” I nod and follow her through the desolate halls. I’m still holding her hand. The fact makes me grin. She shows me to all my classes, which I happen to share with her. Even the culinary class. I realize, looking at her, that I have no chance of staying away. I don’t care what I have to do, I need Artemis in my life.