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York was first constructed; I know that was ages ago.” She smiled at me knowingly. Without missing a beat she went on so I wouldn’t dwell on her age.

“I don’t remember how I ended up so far away from the warehouse but I had stumbled across the water ways on the southern edge of Manhattan. It was nothing like it is now of course. But I walked my way through the small shipping yard and onto one of the storage barges.”

“I had no idea where I was but I didn’t care. I had no home, I wondered everyday trying to stay warm and alive, what was another cold damp corner?” I frowned at her but she went on.
“The weather took a turn for the worst and I walked into the ship. Deeper and deeper I went just stumbling along in the dim lighting. I don’t think I knew what I was walking into, just that it was dry and quiet. Walking I began to realize I wasn’t alone. Something, or someone, was with me.”

My eyes went wide and she back tracked for a second. “Not like following me but ahead, in the very heart of the ship something was waiting, and it was noisy.” She paused suddenly like she was self conscious. “Maybe I’ll leave some parts out.”

I frowned at her. Her eyes flicked to Gavin. I had forgotten he was there. I had forgotten where I even was. Props to Emma for being a good story teller. I was glad I had brought up her birth, creation? What ever it was called it got my mind off Dad. Turning my head I blinked at Gavin. He was utterly still, eyes trained on me. He wasn’t breathing again. What had him so edgy now?

“I guess not.” I turned back to Emma again. I was confused, did they just exchange some secret conversation? “Like I was saying there was a thing.” Her eyes went to Gavin when she said thing. Was that such a bad word? “I guess I was stupid as a hobo because I kept going, walking right for it.”

“As I closed in on it I realized that the sounds I was hearing wasn’t wet paint being stirred but.” She stopped again.

“Emma?” I asked, confused.

“I don’t know if I should continue, Gavin?” She was looking at him again.
Turning I looked, blue eyes still trained on me. What was going on? He frowned, brow furrowing like he was pained. Looking away from me he stood, shoving balled hands in his jeans pockets. Why was he mad? Should I not have asked Emma such a personal question? And why was it so personal to him? Standing with his back to us he nodded.

“Ok. Sky.” I glanced back at Emma. She was holding her coffee cup between both hands. “This part might be hard to hear. It involves Gavin, and what he use to be.” My eyes flicked back to Gavin’s broad back.

He was stiff. More fear of my reaction to him. My face softened and I slid out of the chair. Taking three steps I stood behind him, watching his shoulders tense. Gently I pressed my hand to his shoulder. He stilled again, damn he was good at that. Head dropping he started to pull away from me.

“I’m not afraid,” He stopped,” tell me Emma, what happened next?”

Turning his head one dark blue eye peeked out from under his hair. His face was shadowed and blank. I left my hand on his shoulder while we stared at each other. Emma’s voice carried over to us quietly.

“The sound was thick and slightly sickening. It was the sound of blood being sucked from a human.” I waited. “I came around a crate and saw him, this teenager. He was tall and muscular, hair almost glistening in the sunlight from the port holes. It was like he was in a spotlight and everything around him was dark, afraid of him.”

“I must have kicked something because he jerked, dropping what ever he had been eating. The thing I saw was inhuman, a monster. Eyes bright as suns and red as fire stared at me like I was his next meal. Blood covered his mouth and drenched the white shirt he wore.”
“The glistening hair I had first seen was actually covered in blood that had sprayed him when he tore open the chest of his victim. The victim that lay behind him in a pile of torn cloth, a massive pool of blood, and its own body parts that had been ripped open. At the time I didn’t know but later I learned his name.”

Gavin’s eye looked away from me but he didn’t try to flee. Instead he just tensed and waited for her to utter the words he dreaded.

“Gavin Roshechure De’ Lafayette.”

“I don’t care.” I whispered. His head lifted and he stared at me with both eyes. “What did you do when he saw you?”

I could hear the approving smile in her voice. “At first I fled, thought obviously that was useless. When he tackled me to the ground and broke my arm I tried to fight. I was foolish, I didn’t stand a chance, but I fought. I fought the monster chewing on my neck. In the end I lost. Or so I thought.”

“Yes he had drunk my blood but I fought to the very end, even when he was dragging me deeper into the ship where I would die, I fought. In some sick way it appealed to him. Before he finished me off, or even tore me to shreds, he offered me something, immortality in exchange for friendship.”

“Sounds crazy right? But I was crazy. I took the offer without a second thought, I just wanted to live. I didn’t care how just that I did. He didn’t argue or ask if I was sure he just did it. He turned me into what he was, a vampire.”

She fell silent knowing that Gavin would be struggling with his emotions over me knowing. His face was blank but a war was going on behind his eyes. He wanted to run but he also wanted acceptance, from me. I bowed my head, smiling to myself. I was right, he could do anything and I would never hate him because he was Gavin.

“I told you I don’t care.” He jerked slightly.

My hand slid down his shirt and I grabbed the hem, balling it in my hand so he would run away on me. Closing my eyes I lifted my head. I could almost see the scene Emma had described of him in the ship feeding on some lost soul.

“Yeah you slaughtered humans once upon a time. So what, you are a vampire they do that.” My eyes opened, the image leaving with it. He was staring at me, half broken.
“What ever you once were is in the passed, Emma said it. It’s who you once were not who you are.” I was starting to ramble but I needed to tell him something.

I pulled on the shirt. My chest was starting to tighten, my face burning with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I was going to say it again. But he needed to hear it. So he knew without a doubt I didn’t care about his vampirism.

“All you’ll ever be to me is Gavin. And that’s all I need. Just Gavin.” I said his name slowly, carefully.

He sucked in air, shoulders going slack. I let my hand drop from his back. He would be ok now, never again question if I would hate him or not. Emma cleared her throat bursting our touching moment. The second I realized she was still in the room I went beat red. Damn it, she would never let it go now.
Chapter 7 - The Rules of Honey Milk


We had returned to our seats much to Emma’s joy. I rubbed my face as she smiled at me. It was like she was trying to make me crack and blurt out my undying love for him. It wasn’t happening. I took a huge gulp of my honey milk finishing it off. There wasn’t much honey to it because I let it set too long.

The milk had cooled and the honey settled to the bottom. I frowned at it. Too try and lick it or not to try and lick it? I tipped the mug slightly waiting for the honey to creep down to licking distance. I could just hear Gavin trying not to laugh beside me. I shot him a glare. He knew what I was doing.

“Want a refill?” Emma questioned clearly wondering what the hell I was doing with it in the middle of the air.

“Please.”

No better solution for awkward tension then honey in the bottom of a cup. She started to stand but Gavin beat her to it. He snatched the mug from me stocking off into the kitchen. I glared at his shaking shoulders, apparently he was feeling better or just plain hiding his emotions. Either way he was having a ball with my honey addiction. Yes I was addicted to honey. Give it to me and I will eat every last drop.

Even make a fool of myself to do it. Like say, hold a mug upside down for twenty minutes while it runs into my mouth. Of course it was my little secret, honey milk, my mom called it. Then Gavin had to mysteriously pop up at my house and find me on the couch waiting for the honey to finish creeping into my mouth.

He never let it go. But then again he did now officially offer me honey milk every time I came over. So I guess it wasn’t so bad. He could stop laughing at me when I finished a mug though, that was embarrassing. He walked back in with my mug and a coffee pot, face smug. Dropping into his chair he sat the pot in the middle of the table.

I glared at him until he smiled, sliding my honey milk over on the table. I snatched it away from him possessively. The white mug was toasty warm but he had that look in his eyes, like he had tampered with it again.

“Just warm milk, you don’t have to kill me with your eyes.”

“Good boy.” I murmured taking a sip.

He laughed out loud. Emma looked at him like he was diseased. Clearly she didn’t get the memo not to mess with the honey milk. It was my addiction and my child. More importantly it was the only thing I had of my mother. The thing she made for me when I had a nightmare, or when the boy haunted my closet.

It was the only thing I could take anywhere

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