I jolted up to the noise of metallic locks being unbolted. Guardedly, I jumped to my feet. A soft thud followed by Vincent's groans and cursing told me that his head banged on the floor. I totally forgot that he was leaning on me.

Intently, I listened to the faint footfalls against the pavement of the entryway, pushing the curtains slightly so I could take a peek outside. At first I thought we were being attacked, but the minute I spotted a pair of golden canine eyes and a giant foxy tail wagging in the dark, I knew it was Byron Flynn. Hurriedly, I opened the door for them while Vincent flicked the lights on.

Amyr came in first with Vladimir fast asleep over his back. Gently, the familiar laid the boy in the empty recliner, wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead. All the other familiars looked as exhausted as him but no one seemed to have sustained serious injuries. Some scratches and small wounds here and there-nothing the immortal life-force couldn't heal. Bringing up the rear, Byron Flynn limped his way in. His left front foot seemed to be fractured with the lower leg bone threatening to stick out of the skin every time it dangled from the knee joint.

I made Byron Flynn lie down and stroked his silky reddish fur in an attempt to comfort him while Rosario prepared to heal him. His big amber eyes trained on me, a low guttural whine coming from his throat. The dog was in pain.

Despite the tired look on his face, Amyr sported a big smile as he flopped beside me. "How's it going, noob? Heard from Archie you brought home a Swarth."

Not wanting to tell the story, I just shrugged and focused on Byron Flynn. A Swarth. Somehow, I felled one but it wasn't like I was proud of it. Fighting wraiths wasn't just some sport and it was just then that I came to that understanding. Lives of people depended on it-both humans and immortals. Every single time a familiar went out to battle with these wicked creatures, they were putting their lives on the line.

Dying wasn't an option. Not something to have a good laugh about. For once, I understood why Vincent vehemently refused to let me live this life.

By all means, I was aware that Amyr was just trying hard to be lighthearted about the situation but I just couldn't afford to humor him. "Is it that bad in Centralia?" I asked instead.

Amyr rubbed and flexed his neck to and fro before nodding without much enthusiasm. "Wraiths were everywhere. No idea how it happened but something's hindering the flow of souls into the Gates. The Boss had to conjure several temporary Spirit Doors to let as much soul pass to Nirvana. We couldn't stop him until he was dead beat. He's so stubborn."

"I feel your pain," I replied managing a weak smile, inadvertently glancing at Vincent.

He yawned stretching his arms. "I could use some sleep. Bad enough that I didn't get some Swarth-kicking action. It's been like five years since I've encountered one."

"I've seen two in my days," I mumbled, breaking into a weak laugh. The line made me sound like a granny.

He looked perplexed. "Swarths? Twice in a row? Now that's something. Guess you attract all sorts of weird too much. Better watch your back from now on."

I stayed up until Rosario was done healing Byron Flynn. The dog kept thrashing and growling at her while she rearranged and reattached the muscles and bones of his broken legs. I sensed that the Spanish teacher was having difficulty using her healing ability considering how weary the mission had left her. All the while, we kept our silence. Arguing would only waste more energy.

"If you're willing to train me, I'll start tomorrow," I finally said once Byron Flynn got up and curled beside me, burying his big fluffy head on my lap.

Without looking at me, Rosario stood up and mumbled, "It's not like I have a choice."

I wasn't at all surprised when Mei announced that we would ditch school the next day. Vladimir had to recover first. Byron Flynn had a fracture to heal. That left Amyr, Vincent and Mei to do the routine surveillance in Centralia while Archie tried to figure out a new strategy to lessen the traffic of souls. Unable to get a decent sleep, I woke up early and made my prep to face my own little piece of hell on earth-the training with Rosario.

When I slipped through the brick-red set of double doors leading to the vast, cave-like expanse of the training room, Rosario was already testing a mace she dug up from the big wooden trunk in the corner of the room. She lashed the spiked wrecking ball attached to it expertly, seemingly unaffected by its weight. The wall to my left exploded into pebbles and shards as she hit it.

As the room repaired itself, Rosario rummaged in the trunk and drew a sickle about four feet or more in length, its crude blade dull with rust and filth. I would bet it wouldn't even be of much use as a paper shredder. Mindlessly, she hurled the sickle to me. I almost caught it but was too slow for the sharp throw. It bounced off my hands and clanged to the floor.

"So-so speed," she commented, crossing her arms on her chest while eyeing sternly at me. "Low strength. Poor reflex. Zero concentration."

She was right of course but she didn't have to rub it on my face.

"I'm all yours," I replied with the most pleasant smile I could plaster on my face as I picked up the sickle and stepped to her. "So where do we start, teacher."

Rosario's hazel eyes narrowed, her already furrowed brows arching. My smile widened as I savored the chagrin on her face. If being nice and diplomatic failed, then it was time to fight fire with fire. Two can play at this game, I thought. If she was planning to make me suffer, I would make sure she goes down with me. Or die trying.

"First," she began, stripping her face of all emotions. "You need to learn how to handle a scythe and use it in battle. Just to give a feel of it, why don't you try to defend while I try to test your skills? If any," she smirked and charged me, flailing the mace before I even had time to consider it.

The spiked mace clashed against the blunt blade of my weapon, the impact jarring me a bit. Luckily for me, Rosario was nowhere as tough as Amyr, nor as fast as Mei. I side-stepped and jabbed the blunt of my blade to her stomach twice. Wrong move. She dodged it easily and even if I did land a hit, it wouldn't do any damage.

It was a sickle after all. Not an elegant rapier like Archie's or a decent sword made for stabbing or piercing. Cursing, I distanced myself from her as fast as I could, the tip of her mace colliding against the ground with a violent crash.

As she was busy yanking it out the rubble, I swung at her, gripping the weapon with both hands, about to hack her head off. But it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. Miscalculating the swing, the blade veered off too high causing me to be thrown off balance, twirling like an idiot.

While she was about to swing the mace, I used the long wooden handle of my weapon to knock it from her grasp. Exasperatedly, she kicked me hard on the shins. I collapsed onto the floor wincing in pain.

Her lips pulled up into a malevolent sneer as she raised her spiked club above head to crush me. Before I was turned into a mass of Sloppy Joe, I swiped her feet off with the handgrip of my weapon and lunged at her when she fell down, slamming her hands against the cold rutted floor so that her spiked club slid off her grip and was flung a good ten yards away. She grabbed my hair and started to yank it from the roots, shrieking hatefully as I prevented her from clawing my face. I froze, feeling stupid. I had the feeling that it was turning out to be a catfight.

Never thought she would go that low.

Groaning in irritation, I smacked her hand off my hair, got up and started to walk away. Rosario seemed to be stunned by my sudden disinterest.

"What? You're running away? Weakling!" she yelled getting up to scowl at me.

The back of my ears burned when I heard the word weakling. I was earnest with my intention to train. All I wanted was to be able to serve as a worthy familiar to Vincent. A friend he can depend on. But clearly enough, Rosario had no intention whatsoever of helping me achieve that. I tried to breathe deeply to control my anger, clenching my teeth until I thought they were ready to fall off. Tightening my fingers around the sickle, I turned to face her.

With a mocking smirk, she patted the dirt from her sweater. "You know what? I can't imagine what Vincent saw in you. Since the first day you set foot in this house, you've been nothing but a burden! You can't even kill a Swarth on your own. You're noth-"

I hurled the sickle to her direction, the blade missing the tip of her nose by a hair's breadth before skewering the very tip of her shoe-somewhere near the gap after her big toe-to the ground. With a gasp, she shuffled backward and fell on her butt. It might've been a little funny if I wasn't just too wound up.

"I'm sick of this, Rosario! I'm sick of having to put up with you!" My voice raised an octave, my breathing ragged. "Our masters are working their butt off out there. Until they drop dead of exhaustion. I came here expecting to be trained so I could be of use! You think I enjoy being this... this useless? Every time one of you goes out there, it drives me nuts just thinking if you could make it back. Or could it have made any difference if I was there to help."

Revealing all my pent-up frustrations just made me want to cry but I cleared the swelling in my throat and headed back to wrench the sickle's nearly useless blade away from her sneakers. It still amazed me how I did it. I wasn't even sure if the hit was an accident. For a moment, I thought she was about to say something but seemed like she changed her mind all too quickly. Blankly, she looked away from me as if doing so would burn her eyes.

"I have no idea what I did wrong for you to treat me like this. But if you wouldn't train me, I guess I'm on my own," I sighed, offering a hand which she dismissed.

Heavily, I marched out of the room with no specific plan, swearing that I wouldn't lose to Rosario. As I slackened wearily on my bunk-chair in Vincent's room, I tried to clear my mind. No joy. I could not concentrate feeling all weighty and furious like this. All I wanted was to rip something apart. Like Vincent would. Perhaps, I made him mad too many times. So technically, it was my fault he killed all those furniture.

To some extent, I thought I understood him better now and that idea made me calm down a little. Without wanting to admit it, I secretly wished he would come home early so I could tell him off how his training plan was a huge failure. And in turn, he could retort that it was just because I was too stupid; that I was going to die again anyway. I wouldn't have minded.

All of a sudden, I felt a lot better. Standing up, I closed my eyes and tried to search for the Bind inside me, feeling its warmth surge through my veins.

How can I summon my scythe? I asked. It didn't answer so I repeated my question, tried rephrasing it and even said please too many times it made me sick. It was frustrating but I wasn't ready to give up yet. I remembered what Archie did last night when a rapier appeared in his hand.

"This better work," I muttered to myself closing my eyes.

I tried to clear my mind while I touched my right middle and index finger on the small number thirteen tattoo at the side of my neck. A cold piercing sensation pulsed from the tattoo, creeping throughout my whole body. The coldness then converged at the tips of my fingers, engulfing my right hand with frost. Excitement built up within me. I never expected it to be this easy.

I gaped at my right arm for several moments expecting for something amazing to happen. To my dismay, the frost just evaporated, leaving my hand fairly normal. After nearly two hours of repeating the process, I had no success. Frantically, I touched the markings on my neck again and again. Nothing happened. Maybe a magic word was needed to conjure a scythe.

"Uh... Abracadabra, scythe?" I mumbled in a low tone, raising my right hand. It sounded really weird and stupid but I just had to try.

"Not very original," a voice said from behind me. It was Rosario with an insulting smirk on her face as she folded her arms across her chest. "Follow me." She started to head to the hallway.

"Rosario, I don't want any trouble."

She paused to look over her shoulder with a look as though she was talking to a very stupid person. "Do you want to be trained or not?" she scoffed.

With an impassive shrug, I followed her. Abracadabra wasn't working anyway. After a couple of minutes, we arrived to the hall of portraits. Rosario stepped in, looking up at the hundreds of paintings hanging on the high walls. In the corner of the room, Adrianna's portrait was still propped on an easel.

"I thought we would be training," I noted nonchalantly, eyes shifting around the countless number of artwork.

Ignoring my comment, Rosario stood in front of Adrianna's portrait and looked at it for a while. "Do you know who she is?" she asked with a small voice.

"Adrianna," I answered.

"Yes. You're not as thick as I've thought," she muttered snidely.

"Thanks for the compliment," I countered.

For once, a bitter smile painted on her face. "Mei, Adrianna and I-we were the first three familiars of Master Vladimir's cabal. I'm a daughter of the head servant of Madame Sinclair's-the masters' mother. Madame Sinclair was afraid that someday, no one will be there to take care of her sons after being immortalized, so she asked me to be a familiar... as I was dying when I was run over by a raging bull."

I thought I heard Rosario chuckle silently as she shook her head. It was actually amusing imagining Rosario getting chased by a bull. Her death was just so ironic it was almost hilarious.

"When he was still a baby, I took care of Master Vincent. I watched him grow up, while I, as a familiar remained in this form." She sighed glancing back at me. "Like you, Adrianna did not really choose to be one of us. Her twin sister, a familiar of the first son of Pilgrim Reaper brought Adrianna to us and begged the master to resurrect her. Adrianna was dying back then and the rest of Master Pilgrim's sons wouldn't take her for she was a frail and a very scared girl. But my master took her in despite those qualities. He just knew that someday, she would serve a purpose and would prove herself worthy."

Quietly, I stepped closer to the painting. I had no idea why Rosario suddenly took the initiative to tell me all these and how it would relate to my training but my curiosity got the best of me.

Not removing her gaze from Adrianna's picture, Rosario continued. "As was expected, Adrianna had a hard time adjusting to this kind of lifestyle but she served as a good company for Master Vincent. Back then, he was sixteen and still a mortal. The young master was not in any way fascinated with immortality. He didn't wish to be a Reaper. He had always mentioned his dream of having a family of his own someday. That was why Master Vladimir accepted the responsibility of being a Reaper at a very young age-to see that his younger brother do not suffer the same fate."

"So that explains the age confusion. Vlad was immortalized way earlier than Vincent," I mumbled mostly to myself before Rosario threw me a shut up look.

She didn't quite seem to like it when I called her masters by their first names. Like I would really go on calling Vincent master. Ha!

"So as I was saying before you so ungraciously interrupted," she reproached with a peeved expression. "It was Adrianna's first Purge season and my master deemed her unfit to scout the fields. She was left in charge of this home with the sole task to look after Master Vincent. We didn't expect such large number of souls swarming to areas within our jurisdiction. While we were busy with the Purge, wraiths attacked this same mansion."

"But isn't there like a barrier? Wraiths can't actually go in, can they?" I asked hesitantly.

Rosario shook her head while fuming at my sheer stupidity (I was being sarcastic, duh). "No. How can you not know your own master's abilities?"

"I've been here for like five days, Rosario. And Vincent and I hadn't really been in the getting-to-know-you phase," I grumbled in annoyance.

Rolling her eyeballs, Rosario turned away from me and beckoned me to follow her to the corridors. As we moved along to the right wing, to the part of the mansion that led to the Archives-the largest library in the world-she started talking again.

"Master Vincent can create protective barriers. He can also cross the Spirit Gates for a very short period of time without having himself destroyed. It's his unique ability. If any other Reaper tries to do that, he would be annihilated in a fraction of a second. Master Vladimir, on the other hand, has perfect memory. He can remember anything and everything he reads, sees, feels... And they both acquired those abilities only after being immortalized."

Once we reached the entrance to the Archives, Rosario pressed a hand over the stone walls. The number twelve marking on her neck glowed with a faint reddish light before the wall parted before us, allowing us in.

"Back then, more than five hundred years ago, that is... Master Vincent was still unable to create the barriers since he was still a mortal. A small legion of wraiths attacked this house." With an unpromising look at me, she held a hand up and shouted, "The Third Tome of Immortals-The Origin of Death."

After she recited the book title, a golden cylinder shook from one of several hundreds of towering shelves, stirring the dust mites around it before hovering to us. Rosario had to leap and catch it in midair or else it would have crashed against the marble walls. She set the scroll on the long study table and sat in front of it.

"That night," Rosario croaked, looking at me straight in the eyes; a look that posed a challenge as though she was testing my determination in being a familiar. "...Adrianna died protecting Master Vincent. She was weak. Even weaker than you. But she sacrificed her life to keep the master safe. You know what that means?"

Breathing hard, I nodded. Adrianna and her soul perished into nothingness just to save Vincent. Rosario was indirectly questioning of I could do the same. The sinking feeling in my gut reminded me that I still somehow feared dying after all. I searched myself for answers. If ever I was turned into a full-pledged familiar, could I do what Adrianna did? Would I give my life for the sake of my master with no hesitation?

I felt ashamed for competing with her, for hating her even, when the truth was that the two of us were nowhere near comparable to each other. I was nothing.