My Guardian Vampire

"I think I know what you want to ask... About reading my mind, or the fact you can't?" Mike nodded, but Billie Joe folded his arms and tilted his head slightly.

"I can read it some of the time at least."

'Well isn't someone a bit prideful?'

"Hey! I read it once too..." Mike said, and I sat silent for a moment, watching as they argued over who read my mind more. I stopped them, getting offended that they were talking about reading my freaking mind.

"Wait... Why can Billie Joe read it more than you?" I asked, and they stopped.

"You don't know?" They asked, and I laughed.

"I don't even know why you sometimes can't read it at all... Do you know?" I asked hopefully.

"Not a clue," Billie Joe said, shaking his beautiful head of black hair. "C'mon Green, let’s have a drink. Or you could always have a little blood..." he said smiling tauntingly. I cringed slightly, wondering how they got their blood... I don't think I even wanted to go there. Instead, I asked another nagging question.

"Why's my name Green?" I asked. Billie Joe shrugged, turning from me to the kitchen counter where he turned his attention to what must have been a damn interesting bottle. Mike seemed to simply shrug into the background, watching us silently.

"I don't know, it suits you," he said, examining the label. I shuffled closer to him.

"Why?" I asked, peering over his shoulder and trying to get a look at his face.

"Lots of reasons," he said, putting the bottle down and walking over to the couch, spreading out on it lazily and turning the TV on. I tailed after him, wondering why he was avoiding it.

"Like what?" I asked, standing over the back of the couch and leaning over so I was directly above him. He sighed, not looking at me still.

"I don't know, your eyes?" he said, though it was more of a question than an answer. Tré then pranced in, stopping at the base of the couch where Billie's feet were and raising his hand.

"I know! I know!" he yelled. I turned to Tré.

I caught the warning look Billie Joe gave Tré, but ignored it.

"Hmm... Ok, I pick Tré!" I said, grinning at him. He laughed, still not putting down his arm.

"It's cause when you passed out Billie read-" Tré quickly began, but then crumbled to the ground, swearing and clutching himself where Billie had kicked him.

"Billie read what?" I asked, leaning on the couch again and looking at Billie questioningly.

"What "Billie" reads is none of your fucking business," Billie Joe said, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Hostile much Billie?" Mike said, appearing behind me and scaring me. I had honestly forgotten he was here at all. "If you can't play nice, don't play at all..."

Billie just rolled his eyes.

"Playtime's over then," he said, standing up and walking out of the room, taking a beer with him.

I sighed, dropping my head slightly.

"I'd be careful Ali," Mike said in low tones, looking towards Billie's room. "I think you're beginning to forget where you are and who you're with..."

I sat on a chair, slightly scared at this warning.

"I don't know where I am or who I'm with," I said, realizing I probably should have taken the exit. I looked at the door to outside, and Mike shook his head.

"I guess you can leave; Billie Joe wouldn't be too happy, but I don't think he would stop you..."

"Stop me?" I asked. "Why would he even bother keeping me here?"

'Why had he bothered to keep me here?'

I heard a bottle smash in the room Billie had walked into, and him growl loudly and curse.

"Uh... Maybe that's none of my business either..." I said, and Mike faintly smiled. Another different loud growling was heard, and I looked down.

"Sorry about that," Mike and I said at the same time. I looked up, Mike doing the same. We both laughed when we realized our stomachs had growled in sync.

"When was the last time you ate?" Mike asked, and I shrugged.

"I don't know, I had something a few hours before I came to New York. Why, how long have I been here?" Mike looked at me.

"I'm surprised you're not dehydrated. Tré, you wanna take Ali out while I feed?"

'Feed?'

Tré shook his head.

"No way I'm hungry nooow," he whined, his teeth protruding slightly now, a couple of hidden knives starting to show in anxiousness.

"Don't you guys have blood bags?" I asked, and Mike and Tré laughed.

"Blood bags? This is New York kid, ain't enough blood to go around," Tré said, and Mike chuckled again. I looked at them horrified, Tré smiling at my expression.

"C'mon chicka, this isn't some horror movie from the 50's; Mike's the only one who goes after girls in their nighties."

Mike rolled his eyes and stood on Tré's foot, and continued explaining as if it was nothing.

"We go out for druggies, criminals, that kind of thing. Not everyone is lucky as some vampires—I'm guessing like the ones you knew?" he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. I nodded my head, feeling the numbness set in stronger to protect me from memories of them.

"Not everyone is as... choosy as us though. That's why you're lucky Billie found you, I guess..."

'Guess?
I caught that, Mike.'