Barb Hendee - Blood Memories

"It's all right," I whispered. "As long we all keep trying to move forward, we'll be okay."

Philip's panicked eyes clicked back and forth between us.

"Can you lend me some money to get started?" Wade whispered. "I don't think I have enough left in savings."

"Anything you want," I answered.

Maybe he really would be okay.

Philip kept his hands flattened on the floor. "I don't understand… Is he leaving?"

I turned my attention from Wade and looked at Philip. His red-brown hair hung forward over his shoulders.

"Yes, but not far," I said.

"What about us?" he asked, almost like a child. "What do we do?"

I didn't know how to answer.

Bringing Wade out of limbo might be difficult, but Philip was worse. I needed a future, a plan… and he'd spent an existence from one hunt to the next.

I knew I didn't want to go to France anymore, or Finland. Maybe he didn't either.

"If we stay here, Philip, we have to make this place ours. All of Maggie's things go into boxes and get stored in the attic."

He pulled back, poised on his knees, and I could see his mind rolling over my words as if they'd never occurred to him. "Would you want that?" he asked. "To make a home here… in this house?"

"It's a start."

I knew he was terrified of being alone again. After so many years in isolation, he didn't want to go back. After so many years of being wrapped up in William, I didn't want to live alone. We were weak, perhaps, but this was the truth.

"We'll get boxes tomorrow night," he said, nodding. "And then go shopping for furniture at IKEA."

Relief flooded through me. This was a small step for both of us, but it was something. Then I remembered the reason I'd come running home to get him. Another element of our world had shifted tonight. We didn't have to kill anymore… and I needed to show him how.

"We have to go out," I said.

"Now? You just got back."

"Yes." I turned to Wade. "Can you order a pizza and hang here for a while?"

He frowned, probably thinking we were going hunting-which was half true. But what could he say? He knew what we were. I'd tell him everything I'd discovered tonight later.

"All right," he answered.

So Wade stayed behind while Philip and I ran down the front steps and headed two miles away from the house.

"Steal us a car," I said.

"You want me to?"

"Yeah, some old, heavy thing with great big tires and a cassette player."

My mood infectious, he glanced around and spotted a 71 Ranchero sporting a chipped paint job. "That one."

Moments later, as we roared down the street, I plugged in a Blue Oyster Cult tape and watched him smile.

"How come we need to go hunting right now?" he asked.

"Because there's something… I want to show you."

Maybe we'd all be okay.