Lenard, Alishia and the Kitten

Alishia crouched between the chair and the bookshelf, trying to hold her breath or atleast not lead him directly to her by panting like a dog.

Where was he?

Her heart pounded and she knew he could hear it. Vampire hearing is flawless. Had he entered the house yet? Alishia tried to quiet her heart by taking deep breaths but still trying to keep as silent as possible.

She wouldn't hear him but she pricked her ears up at every noise. She chastised herself for sweating but dared not to wipe away the hair that now stuck to her forehead. He would smell that sweat and would hear her move. Peaking around the chair she was behind might be helpful unless he was in the room and was just playing with her emotions. It wouldn't do much good anyway since it was pitch black outside and inside.

She counted to thirty. He had to be in the house by now. She looked up to make sure he wasn't staring at her. He wasn't there. She started to look around the side of the overstuffed recliner but she heard something. The clicking of fingernails? He taunted her. Her anger spiked. She planted her feet, preparing to sprint through the kitchen.

"I smell you young one." Lenard cooed. "I see you have ran around the house to try to confuse me. Silly girl."

Alishia jumped up, throwing a snow globe from the bookshelf at his face. He caught it easily, of course, but it was enough to distract him for a second which was all she needed to get a head start through the kitchen and into the hall. She counted her steps like she had done before. She couldn't see a sigle thing.

"You could have broke that!" he yelled. She didn't waste energy by responding; instead slid into the master bedroom on her knees, jolting on the doorframe but leaping up quickly to bound across the bed and landing on her feet.

"Arg!" Lenard had ran right into her trap. "What the hell is this?" he pulled the Seran Wrap, which she had covered in vaseline, from his face. Alishia doubled over in a fit of laughter, pointing at the mirror on the closet door. Her husbands eyebrows were vaselined in every direction. He started laughing too.

"That was an improvement," he waded up the clingy plastic, threw it through the bathroom door and into the garbage, "but you won't always have time to prepare."

"I felt like I was faster but I'm still sweating like a whore in church." She peeled off her tank top and leggings.

"I don't think there is anything you can do about that." He too stripped down and they both got into the glass shower.

......................................................................................................................

"It's pretty quiet upstairs," Alishia observed.

"I'll go check." Lenard headed up the stairs at a leisurely, almost human, pace. He pushed the pink door with butterflies open just enough to sneak in. She wasn't in her bed. "Candy?" He called softly. No answer. "Candace." A little louder. There was a movement under the cover on the bed. He moved the cover aside to reveal an orange kitten stretching but refusing to open her eyes. She shrank back into a ball and tried to go back to sleep. Lenard smiled. He sat on the bed without moving it and slid his hands under the ball of orange fur. She began purring.

Downstairs, Alishia had turned on some lights, made lunch and gotten out a high chair. Lenard sat the kitten in the high chair. Alishia continued to cut up fruit and chicken for their meal. The kitten curled back into a ball on the cushion of the seat.

"Wake up, Candy, you need to eat." Lenard grabbed a bag of blood out of the refridgerator and poured it in a cup. "Mommy, Candy doesn't want to wake up." He cooed, putting the cup in the oven to heat the blood up. The microwave always made hot spots.

Alishia placed a bowl of fruit, plate of chicken and a sippy cup of milk on the tray in front of the kitten then scratched between its ears. She squatted to look through the opening between the seat and tray.

"It is time to eat, Candace." This time Alishia's voice was firm. The kitten rolled around to look at her and yawned. "Mommy, needs you to eat," a little more gently and the tuft of fur stretched, Alishia turned to grab a spoon; when she turned back around an adorable strawberry blonde three year old was smiling a blinding smile where the kitten once was.

"Thank you, Candy!" Alishia smiled