Take This to Your Grave and I'll Take It to Mine

I sat there in my thoughts undisrupted for about five minutes.

"Erin." Cleo interrupted my thoughts in a gentle voice. "Pete just wants to talk to you. That's it. He swears."

I pulled my knees closer to my chest.

"Tell him to pick the lock."

I buried my face between my knees.

The lock wasn't hard to pick, just grab a coin or something and turn.

It probably looks like I'm crying.

The door opened.

"Erin." This voice was even more gentle. "I called the guys and asked them to bring it." His voice sounded like he was searching for me.

Of course I'm on the other side of the sink.

He walked farther in until he saw me.

"Erin." He dropped to his knees and took me in his arms, holding me close. "What's wrong?"

What am I supposed to say?

'I'm not crying don't fucking touch me.'

"Nothing's wrong." My voice was slow and cold. "Just please let me go."

He did just that and looked at me.

I looked back; eyes dry as they’ll ever be.

"Well look I'm sorry for what happened out there. You know how bloodlust is." He said apologetically.

"Peter that wasn't bloodlust. That was about the coffin thing. You felt something and I never will." I said as cold as possible.

"Never say never." There was hope in his eyes.

"I'm never wrong." I got up and walked out the door.

Joe and Patrick were pounding on the door like cops.

"It's open." I said as calm as ever.

Pete came out of the bathroom as they rushed in.

"Is Pete ok?" Joe asked hurriedly.

"How bad does he need this?" Patrick asked with a pitcher in one hand and a notebook in the other.

Pete walked by and grabbed the pitcher from Patrick's hand. He stood in the kitchen and chugged the pitcher.

"Hey can one of you guys grab the other end. I'll be carrying most of the weight I just need someone on the other end to keep it balanced." I said grabbing one end of the coffin.

"Well then you don't want Pete to help you he doesn't have any balance." Joe joked.

Patrick (who happened to be the smallest guy there) walked up. "Well that leaves me. Joe doesn't have any balance either."

We picked up the coffin.

"This is light." Patrick said.

"Only on your end." I smiled at him.

Joe walked out in front of us to open doors.

After we got all the way down the stairs and got the thing in the car I realized there were only two seats in the car.

"So am I flying Cleo or do you want to ride with her?"

Patrick's face dropped with fear.

Joe chimed in. "We can all ride over. Just push the coffin all the way to the way to one side and you, Pete, and Cleo can sit on the other side."

I pushed the coffin all the way to one side and there was enough room for people to sit.

Thank God, I didn't want to fly Cleo. She digs her claws in because she's afraid of heights.

So we went back to get Ms. Flapping-jaw and Pete.

I realized I only heard one strong heartbeat next to me as we were walking up the stairs. I looked over to Joe and Patrick; the heartbeat was Patrick's. Joe had one but it was faint.

"Joe do you have a bad heart?" I don't know what would cause a human's heart to beat like that.

"No. Why?" He looked confused.

"Your heartbeat is too faint to be human." I now stopped because I didn't understand or bring myself to move any farther with him.

"Oh I think I know why." Patrick interjected. "He was what I have come to call, 'blooded' by Pete. Pete got a cut and some of his blood spilled into Joe's drink. Since it was all of Joe's blood with only a little of Pete's it didn't give him the full change just a little extra strength."

This is becoming ridiculous! Any old one would have killed any abomination like Joe that got a hold of their blood.

Act like it doesn't matter now, you’re going to kill him later.

We continued moving and got to my apartment door and entered my apartment for the last time.

I looked around.

I'm leaving lots of crap here.

I've got all my important crap that's all that matters.

"Cleo, Pete it's time to go." I said as I turned to walk right back out after I grabbed the envelope that had the letter I had written the manager of the apartment and all the money for everything I used. I slid my keys in there and sealed the envelope.

Once we got to the bottom floor I walked up to his office and slid the envelope through the little gold mail slot. Then said goodbye, to everything and nothing.

Erin takes another step in her long life that is never destined to end, and will never stop moving forward.

How could it?

Patrick got into the driver's seat and Joe got in the other seat. Pete climbed in the back and moved all the way up by Patrick's seat.

I set Cleo down inside and got in after her and pulled the door closed. I sat by the door because I wanted my space to think.

"So Erin, how does it feel knowing that your going to be living with a bunch of guys that can't get girls?" Patrick asked me as he looked to me through the rear-view mirror.

So much for thinking space.

"I'm afraid I won’t have any socks by the end of the week." I said with a sarcastic smile.

"We probably can't fit into your socks." Joe said.

"No I have huge feet." I replied honestly.

"Well then you might have to lock your doors." Patrick said in a cautionary manner.

"That never works for me." Pete sulked.

"You don't have a door. You sleep in the basement." Joe responded.

"That's why I have no socks." Pete said in a frustrated growl.

"It's ok someday people won’t steal you socks." I sarcastically comforted him

"I'm glad I don't have socks." Cleo always has to get in on the conversation.

"If you did your socks would be too small too." I said matter-of-factually.

"So the cat really talks?" Joe was genuinely surprised even though we did tell him.

"Are you saying she was quiet the whole time you guys were there?" Now was my turn to be shocked. "I knew there was a eerie silence while you were there."

"So why does the cat talk?" He was taking it better then Pete or Patrick did of course he was warned.

"I don't know, she came that way." I said it in a way that made it seem like I bought her. "I'm surprised your taking it so well. Patrick didn't." I poked fun at Patrick.

"Yeah are you still afraid of me Patrick?" Cleo was walking on my coffin really close to Patrick and he didn't look comfortable. "We are going to be living together so you might want to get over your fear of me." Cleo purred.

"Yeah or she sleeps in your room." That was my big threat.

"Wait does that mean you are trying to get rid of me?" She sounded really offended.

"I've been trying." I scoffed.

"Hey, if I act afraid of you do I get to sleep in your room?" Pete asked with a non-stop smile.

"Sure." His smile got even bigger. "You stay in your locker and I stay in my coffin, strictly no touching."

"Why can't we share the coffin? We have before." He smirked.

"Because that was a emergency." I defended.

"Was there emergency situation sex?" Joe asked.

Patrick quickly cut in. "If there was I want to get involved with more emergency situations." He finished for Joe.

"Patrick! I expect more from you! Plus in the last situation you almost died. I don't think anyone wants that to happen again." I acted like I really cared. But I do expect more from him.

"Why do you expect more from Patrick?" Joe seemed offended.

“Because he’s so sweet-Never mind. He's a guy. You can't expect anything from them." I had the realization right in the middle of my first sentence.

"Hey. I'm a guy." Pete put his head on my shoulder and batted his long eyelashes. "You can expect a lot from me."

"No. You're a man there's nothing to expect from you." I said in my usual bored tone.

"You realize that your going to be living with four guys and it's best that you don't hate us." Joe made the completely obvious statement.

"We hate each other." Cleo and me said it at the same time, which made it even more priceless.

"And we're all each other had." Cleo said.

"So we'll be fine." I said honestly.

Let me skip a little for you.

We got back, got my stuff inside, unpacked it (I just left my weapons in the corner of my room), and they decided to show me around the house.

I had a bathroom attached to my room because no one wanted to share a bathroom with Dirty.

They took me down to the basement where they did almost everything.

They had extended it so it looked like a warehouse. They had a punching bag, stakes, targets, Pete's locker, it looked pretty efficient, but there was something I didn't expect, instruments.

"So this is where I should put my weapons." I smiled.

There was this freaky gun sitting on a desk with all sorts of papers and manila folders all over the place. Like a mad scientist's desk.

"What is this?" I picked up the gun.

"It's a net gun I developed especially for vampires." Patrick answered proudly.

"You seemed like the type to fight from a distance. How far away can you be when you shot this?" I was looking at it from every angle, examining every inch, then aiming it at the wall.

"Not too far, but far enough, I guess." He sounded like he was uncomfortable with how close he had to be.

"I'll teach you how to use a bow." I suggested.

"Will that work on a vampire?" He's so smart, yet so stupid.

"It's just like a stake, only better, come on." I dragged him back to my room to grab the bow.

"Here." I handed him the bow. "You can just sling it over your shoulder."

"I'm liking this already." He laughed at how light the bow was.

"It is a bit lighter than that net gun." I said sarcastically.

We walked back downstairs and headed to the training area (which was just about all of it).

"Now hand me the bow." I put my hand out

He put the bow in my hand and I set the arrows down.

"Ok you grab an arrow," I grabbed an arrow. "Put it on the bow, and pull back as far as you can. The closer to the body the better the aim. That's why Amazonians cut off their left breast." I got my arm positioned right. "Then aim straight for the heart." I let go and nailed the target right in the chest where the heart would be.

"Nail it." I passed him the bow.

"Ok." He looked really awkward and nervous.

"Don't be nervous. If you’re nervous you'll fuck up your shot."

He picked up an arrow and pulled back.

"Aim." I instructed gently.

He was aiming as best he as could.

"Fire." I was as calm as possible. If my voice wasn't calm he wouldn't be either.

He hit the board two inches to the right of the paper.

"That was a waste of an arrow." Ok, I'm a bad teacher.

I know it was good for a first shot but I'm just overly critical.

He looked disappointed in himself.

"I'm sorry I'm overly critical. I wasn't meant to be a teacher." I felt bad that I was so mean.

Ok, no I didn't, he just looked pathetic.

"It's ok." He still didn't look happy.

"Try again. Just this time don't let your nerves get to you." I'll try to be nice, I did offer to teach him.

He picked up another arrow.

"Wait. I'll go pull the other two arrows out." I walked over to the wooden board that was in front of the wall.

I pulled my arrow out with ease, but Patrick's arrow was giving me trouble.

I was pulling it and I heard the familiar whistle that signaled an arrow in flight.

Then it hit me.

Literally.

The arrow hit me.

I let out one loud shriek and fell to my knees.