You spent the next 4 days dreaming of Eric, some of those dreams included sex, and some didn't. But in all of them, he drank your blood and in return, you drank his. Usually at the same time. You didn't know what that meant, but it was probably normal for vampires. You wouldn't ask about it, and if you did, you'd ask Henry. He never judged you or made you feel embarrassed for asking questions. Pam could do it with just her facial expressions, she's very expressive. You rarely remembered your dreams, but after a grueling 4 days, you could recall every last detail.
You hadn't been to Eric's place in a few days, Sarah told you they were busy working on turning it into a bar. So you wouldn't have a job for a while. But the paycheck you got from Pam and Eric was enough for you to pay rent. A few months' worth of rent. Even if you only worked a few days, non-sequentially. You cashed it in the day after Pam gave it to you. That was one of the benefits of having a vampire boss, money. The wealth they accumulate over the years must be gargantuan. You were anxious to get back to work and make more, and maybe try to be less greedy. Maybe you would last an entire week without going home and processing things for a while. That would be a nice change.
Sarah asked Eric to pay for a cleaning service to clean her house, and then she asked him to take her furniture shopping. She had to buy a new front door, too. Shopping would probably come in a few days since the cleaners got done yesterday. Pam complained that Henry should've been paying for it, he's the one that let himself be detained. And you agreed. Eric explained that a vampire as old as Henry would need a lot of silver to be restrained, he said it like he was accusing him. But you weren't suspicious of him. You knew Eric could feel your emotions, so you tried to keep yourself calm whenever you were near him. It wasn't hard, and it probably didn't matter anyway. He could probably feel them anywhere at any time. Maybe you didn't want to drink vampire blood ever again. You'd settle for going to the hospital next time.
It was Friday, Sarah had a class in the afternoon but she was free all weekend. You didn't know if you would have to work, but the bar would probably be done soon. If they used glamour, they could have it done in no time. So you'd be working again shortly. Or you hoped you would be. Your life was a lot more boring without Eric and Pam around. Sarah was fun, she could protect you, and she had interesting things to say. But after drinking Eric's blood, you missed him a lot more than you should've. And by extension, you missed Pam a little bit too. Realizing you missed them disgusted you a little bit, it made you more wary of their power. What they could do to you with just their blood scared you, what else could they do?
It was about 6, you were watching some TV and drinking a glass of wine. You grab the remote off the bedside table and turn it off, gulping down the rest of your wine. The hotel room wasn't very clean, so you felt the need to clean it to keep yourself busy. And you would go back to Sarah's house and grab your clothes. Washing two outfits every day was getting tiring, and you didn't like wearing the same thing every day. Even if you rarely left the hotel room. You figured Sarah would be eager to get clothes from her house. She was in the same boat as you. And she still had to go to class. You stand up from the bed, feeling slightly dizzy from the amount of wine you drank, about 4 glasses.
You gather your dirty clothes off the floor, the black outfit you wore the night you... killed 3 men. There wasn't anything about them on the news, the vampires probably took care of that. You didn't know what they did to cover everything up, but the men must be considered missing. You drop the cargo pants and shirt onto the bed, trying not to stew in your guilt a moment longer. Torturing yourself about it wouldn't change anything, those men would still be dead. And it wouldn't make you feel any better. If you kept thinking about it, you wouldn't be able to move on. You weren't particularly religious, but you wished they had a proper burial at least. You doubted that could've happened, Henry didn't seem too fond of them or Deb.
Opening the door to your room, you head out into the kitchenette. You're getting ready to wash the wine glasses and small plates accumulated over your stay at the hotel. There weren't many of them, you and Sarah ordered pizza or Chinese food during the time you spent at the hotel. The wine glass was still sitting on your bedside table, and you didn't want to waste any more time. After retrieving it, and a glass on the coffee table, you start washing the dishes. You liked to do it, it was mindless work. You're almost done when Sarah walks into the hotel room, takes off her shoes, and collapses onto the couch. She's exhausted after a few hours of classes. You feel bad, but she'd probably be putting her shoes back on soon. She would want to get some of her clothes as well.
"Hey Sarah," You call, scrubbing one of the glasses with a blue sponge left under the sink. There were other cleaning products too, and rubber gloves. But you didn't wear them while you did the dishes, that's extra. She peeks up at you over the edge of the couch, eyes lined with dark circles. She seems tired, from school or the break-in, you didn't know. Sarah gets off of the couch, sauntering over to you languidly. She leans on the counter, obviously too tired to stand.
"Hey." Is all she says, closing her eyes for a second too long. While she's busy trying to keep herself awake, you're finishing up with the dishes, placing a plate on a paper towel you laid out. They didn't have a dish rack but they had sponges and dish soap. As you dry off your hands, you open and close the fridge, catching Sarah's attention. You drop the bottle of wine on the counter, grabbing a dry glass from a cabinet. While you pour the wine, Sarah gets a glass for herself and takes the bottle from your outstretched hand.
Taking a sip, you look over at your friend, "Hey," You repeat after swallowing a mouthful of wine, "I was thinking we could go to your place and grab our clothes." It's just a suggestion, but you mean it as a demand. You didn't want to continue wearing the same clothes every day, and you wanted something to do. Watching MTV and drinking wine or champagne every day isn't healthy. And the diet was even worse, fast food started to suck after 3 days of eating it every day. Sarah nods, taking a sip from her glass of wine. She looks less tired now, at the idea of leaving the hotel room and getting her clothes.
"Yeah definitely," She gulps down her wine, putting the glass in the sink. She heads over to her shoes, "Let me just put these on." She says, grabbing both of them. The shoes are Converse, yellow. But she had a lot of those, in many different colors. You do the same with your wine and the glass, grabbing your keys off the coffee table. It seemed you would be using your car with Sarah often, considering she didn't have air conditioning in her car. But it wasn't her fault, she was saving up for one. And you could help with that, she admitted she was jealous when you showed her the paycheck, "Wish I would've started working there," she said a few nights ago, shaking her head. You honestly wished you never did start working there. The money made it less terrifying for sure, but you'd still be worrying about death every day. Maybe you would go check out the bar later on, and possibly dress in all black in case you have to work.
When Sarah has her bright yellow shoes on, the two of you leave the hotel room and you lock the door behind you. As you walk through the lobby, you get more excited to change your clothes. You're hoping Sarah is as enthusiastic about this as you are, but she doesn't seem that way. The sun is setting when you step outside and look up at the sky for a moment, "How old is Eric?" You asked Sarah, finally entering the driver's seat of your car. The question was important to you, you thought about it a few times, and you assumed he was quite old. And Pam was probably younger than him, that would make sense. But you didn't know how much younger she was in comparison.
Sarah sighs, looking up at the roof of the car in thought, "I think like 1000 years old or something, he used to be a Viking," She explains, recalling the details of his former life, "He's Swedish," Another fun fact about Eric, Sarah shrugs. She doesn't seem to know much about him, only nondetailed vague things. Maybe that's why his blood tasted different compared to Pam's, some say aged wine tastes better.
"What about Pam?" You ask, tapping your hand against the steering wheel. You hoped she knew something about Pam, you wanted to know how old she was too, Sarah thinks for a moment again, glancing out the window at the trees as you pass them. You do the same, in front of you though, so you don't crash the car and kill yourself and your friend. Louisiana is a beautiful state, full of greenery and old buildings. But you didn't want to live there forever. You spent your entire life in this state, a new place would probably do some good.
Finally, she answers you, "She's like... 100 I think? She used to own a brothel. That's all I know about her." She offers, shrugging again. That was more than enough for you. Any amount of information would've been. As long as you knew how old your employers were. Everything made more sense now that you knew their ages. Eric seemed so indifferent about everything, Pam seemed nihilistic, and Henry looked constantly bored. You appreciated Pam's nihilism, it reminded you that you weren't the most pessimistic person in the room. It was sort of refreshing, being around her. And she was nice to look at, that always helps.
"Eric's a lot older than I thought," You comment, leaning back in your seat. You're about halfway to Sarah's house, the two of you would be arriving soon. The closer you got, the more excited you were, "His blood tastes different than Pam's." You remark, turn signal clicking idly. Sarah glances over at you, making a weird face.
She shrugs, "I don't know, I've never tried vampire blood before. It's not in my nature anyway, I can heal faster than normal humans, so I don't need it." Her explanation makes a lot of sense, of course, supernatural creatures were far superior to any human. You wondered what your life would be like if you could turn into any animal you wanted. Probably would've moved to Shreveport ages ago if that was the case. You were glad she's never had vampire blood, it can be addictive, and it's blood. It's not supposed to taste good, but it doesn't taste like normal blood either. It's like putting a penny in your mouth, but it's slightly sweeter than it would normally be.
At her explanation, you nod in understanding, "I get it," You say, holding a hand up, "Next time, I'd rather just go to the hospital." Sarah laughs, she seems like she's more awake now, and a little more positive, you're glad. Soon after, the two of you arrive at Sarah's house. The front door's window is still broken, and the glass that lay underneath it inside is no longer there. While you walk through the house, you realize you never actually saw the damage. Of course, everything previously broken was cleaned, and the surfaces were dusted, you notice a few pots aren't in their previous spots, where Sarah's plants resided. And a vase is gone, the TV is gone as well, someone punched a hole in it and it couldn't have been a human, that wouldn't make sense. But if they were on vampire blood they could've done it, when you consume it, it makes you stronger, and your reflexes are faster.
"Damn they did a number on this place, didn't they?" You say to yourself from inside your new room, rifling through your drawers for every black clothing item you have. Sarah strolls into the room, holding a black garbage bag in her hands, it's full.
She sighs sadly, "Here, most of my black clothes." She says, outstretching her arm and pretending to wipe a tear from her eye. You knew how important black clothes were to her, but she was changed her style since high school ended. You did too, but now you were going back to the same old black shit. It's not that you minded or anything, Sarah had good taste, and sharing clothes with her wasn't a new thing.
"Don't worry Sarah, I'll take good care of them," You promise, stopping your search to take the bag from her. Now you would only need your undergarments. Sarah was always so helpful, "Thanks, by the way." She waves you off, returning to her room to gather her clothes out of her closet and dresser. You open up the bag and take the top drawer of your dresser out and dump the contents into the black heavy-duty garbage bag, your underwear, bras, and socks.
You toss the bag over your shoulder, feeling like Santa Claus, and heave it out of Sarah's house and into the backseat of your car, where another garbage bag lay. When you return to the house, Henry's sitting on the couch, you stop in the living room doorway and look over at him. He must have heard the commotion and woke up. You didn't realize he would still be in Sarah's cubby or whatever it's called, a light-tight area, that's not fun to say.
Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand, he turns around and looks over at you with his dark brown eyes, "Hey Henry." You greet him, waving enthusiastically, he holds a hand up to greet you, with far less enthusiasm, and he looks back at what he's holding in his hands. It's one of Sarah's books.
"Are you gonna stay here until we get back?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. It's not that you didn't like him, well maybe you didn't. He was just weird and you didn't know why he had nowhere to go. He's a grown man— a vampire. He should have a place to sleep, like a giant mansion or something out of Dracula, a crypt.
He folds the corner of one of the pages, closing the book and standing up, "I actually just got here," He informs you, rounding the couch and tucking the book up under one of his arms, "I'm staying nearby and I heard your car arrive," Henry says, passing you. You hum thoughtfully and follow him outside onto the porch where Sarah is waiting, she's sitting in one of the chairs surrounding a small circular table.
Her fists are clenched, white from lack of blood flow and she's staring down at the wood of the porch, hair in her face, "I didn't notice before," She begins, looking up at both of you with a furious glare, "They took my necklace." You furrow your brows, confused. You didn't know about any important necklaces that Sarah owns.
You kneel so you're eye-to-eye with your roommate, "Sarah, what necklace?" You ask, taking one of her hands, trying to comfort her in any way you can.
"Jenna's ashes were inside." Is all she says, a tear falling from her eye. She pulls her hand away from you and wipes it away quickly, calming the sobs in her throat that begged to break free. You stand up, feeling the heat of anger flow through your body like the blood in your veins. Your battle with the drainers is far from over.
Henry sighs a tired sigh, "Let's go back to the warehouse then, eh?" He suggests, leaning against the broken door with his arms crossed. Sarah nods but doesn't say anything more, standing up from her spot at the table. Henry grabs her arm, disappearing from your view with your roommate in tow. You whirl around, looking for any sign of them, and when you find none, the phone begins ringing from inside the house.
Your head snaps up and you whirl around, opening the front door and jogging into the kitchen to answer the landline, twirling the beige cord around your fingers, "Hello?" You call into the phone, leaning against the countertop.
"It's Pam, the bar's open, come get to work." She says, hanging up the phone just as quickly as she says the words, always brief. You shake your head and put the phone back on the wall, leaving the house and digging in your pocket for your keys. You turn around and lock the front door, a silly thing for you to do, considering the broken window. But you do it anyway, bounding excitedly down the porch steps. You can't help it, being excited. It was like a whole new job, not like, it was a whole new job. You couldn't believe they were able to change and create a bar after just 4 days of renovations. Looks like you weren't working the day shift anymore, you'd be working the night shift. A bar couldn't be open in the morning. You didn't truly mind all that much, your sleep schedule didn't matter as long as you made money and kept your sanity intact.
You stick your car keys in the ignition and reverse down the driveway, turning out onto the road, a popular song plays quietly from the speakers, and you turn up the volume a little. Hopefully, the bar would be a nice change of pace, it didn't seem as bad as standing behind a counter all day.
