Dionaea muscipula

[Abbadon]

It had been hard to find a place to buy the plants she required (needed, coveted, desired) that didn’t have a time restriction. A few internet searches later while stretched across her couch and balancing her laptop on her abdomen, she had found a website for both the types she would soon decorate her new home with.

One for the carnivores and one for the poison. As a vampire, obviously, tricking her enemies into eating the leaves of the poisonous ones wouldn’t prove even mildly irritating to the digestive system, but she could still use them for her extra-vampiric activities. Who said she had to give up her life’s work once she became unable to truly die? It would be a crime, truly, for her to cease her masterpieces.

Naturally now she would have to be more careful about whom she plucked from the sea of potential victims, as she had to break her cardinal rule: none from the backyard. Lacking the will to leave Harper Rock meant that she would have to sample humans from nearby. At least with enhanced abilities it would be much easier to hunt without being detected. Add that to her apartment not quite having the proper furnishings for such things (she would, she supposed, have to tarp her bathroom and use that), and she had more to worry about that making the trip out and about and coming home with a prize.

The plants would give her something to do. She had wanted to decorate her home for quite some time and now that she had moved away and had the means (she would need to thank Nishaa) she could achieve her dream. Naturally, she would also have to introduce her sire to each and every special one.

Abbadon had ordered the plants several days ago, and now her email pinged an alert while she was browsing Crownet that they were ready to be picked up at the nearby florist. It was so convenient, having the technology at her fingertips to be able to beg off from picking them up herself with an excuse of work and a lack of transport to allow her to pay extra and have the plants practically brought to her.

Putting her laptop aside, she stood and slipped her feet into some sandals, grasping her purse before taking her leave from the apartment and locking the door behind her. She smile kindly at the man in the elevator who held the door for her to make sure she wasn’t left behind, and made polite small talk with him as they both descended to the lobby. Unbidden, a thought of feeding from him come the next day popped into her mind and she shook it away as they said their farewells. Who knows if by some twist of fate he would remember and then she would have to kill him and most likely move house. Messy and a chore.

She followed the directions on her phone to the florist and found the delivery man loitering outside next to a rather large wooden box of various potted plants. Immediately, she cooed over them, reaching out to stroke a fingertip over one of the fly traps.

“Oh, they’re so lovely.” She murmured, giving the man a pleased smile, and reaching for her billfold kept inside the confines of her bag. “Thank you for driving so far, and after dark as well. I really appreciate it.”

The man blushed, his attention obviously not on her face (the prick of pleasure tickled the back of her head, knowing that she was being admired) until she had spoken. He flicked his gaze up guiltily. “It’s no trouble. You paid the fee.”

She wondered how old he was. If he would scream if she cut him, tied him up. What would he do if she bit him? Would he react like the other men before he was reduced to a haze induced by their natural defense as vampires? Unconsciously, she bit her lower lip as she looked him over from underneath her eyelashes. The man flushed, thinking, of course, that she was appraising him as a potential sexual partner. Poor, naïve thing. Regardless, he hadn’t captivated her as a target and she had no reason to feed, so he was safe.

Abbadon handed him the money, with tip, then carefully hoisted the box up into her arms. His gaze turned from lustful to surprise in an instant, blue eyes wide.

“I’m stronger than I look.” She winked conspiratorially, and then walked away, hips swaying with exaggerated motions as a parting gift. He would never know how lucky he was, so she might as well give him another cheap thrill.

Excitement began to flare higher and higher the closer she got to her apartment, and once in the elevator, she couldn’t help but speak to the plants quietly, introducing herself, telling them how much they would get along. Plants were a pleasure of hers, one of the few that didn’t involve blood. Once off the elevator, she of course had to set them down to unlock and open the door, then drag the box inside.

“The carnivores will have names, of course. They’ll come to me quickly as I find places for you.” The first she picked up was the Western Australian pitcher plant, or the Cephalotus follicularis. It looked almost as if it had little faces connected to the pitchers, and she lovingly placed it next to the couch, near the window. “Velveteen, both you and your namesake are lovely and displaced foreigners.”

She returned to the box, picking up one of the poisonous plants, a small pot of growing hyacinths. “Lovely to look at, not necessarily fatal.” That one was placed on her small kitchen table, in the middle. What a decoration, a plant whose bulbs caused nausea and vomiting.

“Elephant ears, near the window as well, I think. You and Velveteen can be space mates.” Abbadon hummed to herself as she decorated. The next was a small oleander bush, set on a decorative table below the mirror, then a rosary pea plant by the couch.

Her hands sat on her hips as she surveyed her work so far and a smile spread, showing teeth. How wonderful, so far, but her new leafy friends were next and she had to name them eventually. The next carnivore out of the box was the Venus fly trap, set on her kitchen counter near the sink. “Abigail, I think.”

She named the cobra lily by the television Eve, while the North American pitcher plant (Sarracenia) opposite Velveteen was named Micah. A matching pair.

Surveying her handiwork, she felt more at home already.