((Hello everyone! Here it is, the sequel you've all been waiting for! Thank you for your patience, my friends. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Now that I've banged this one out, the others should follow more regularly. Let me know what you think in the comments! They feed my decrepit soul. As always, check me out at unchainmesister on tumblr, and thanks for reading!))

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Santa Carla

Modern Day

Sunday nights at Pandemonium were never slow, but this was insane. Lukas was literally juggling three drinks at a time just to keep up with demand. It didn't help that he'd recently dyed his hair an electric blue, which only made him stand out more against the dark wood that made up most of the bar. The dance floor was packed with people in various stages on inebriation, a mighty feat considering that all of them were vampires. Lukas wasn't sure how they did it, but on a night like this, he could easily clean out his entire supply of alcohol if he didn't cut people off early enough. Thankfully, a few groups had left already, probably to get a bite to eat before settling down for the night. The advantage of building Pandemonium in the middle of the mostly abandoned industrial district meant that most of the overnight lodgings were nearby, so he didn't have to worry about his clients causing too many problems after they walked out his door.

Well, technically they weren't his problem at all, but that was beside the point.

Lukas had come to Santa Carla about a decade ago, freshly 30 and looking for a new start. The fact that he'd been 30 for well over 20 years was beside the point. He liked the idea of settling down for a few years, setting up shop, and staking his claim to part of the local nightlife, so to speak. Being the intelligent and enterprising young man that he was, he first went to the local coven for permission. It was easily granted, probably because the bar they used to visit was shutting down because of the recession. His little establishment had felt a bit like a speakeasy at first, not that he'd been alive back then, but he'd read a lot of books about bootlegging as a kid, so he figured he was something of an expert. Vampires came in and out like the wind, furtively asking for certain types of blood, which he always had in good supply. Lukas was nothing if not considerate, often going out of his way to procure rarities for his regulars. With the blessing of the heads of Santa Carla, his bar became the number one place to be if you wanted to see and be seen. What was supposed to be a stay of just a few years drew out into well over a decade, and Lukas was surprised to find himself content to remain indefinitely.

After handing off a round of tequila shots laced with O+ to a vampire who couldn't have been more than sixteen when he was changed, Lukas took a quick look around, appreciating the slight ebb in eager customers. The building he'd set up shop in must have gone through several conversions over the year, but luckily for him, the last renovation had been to make it a somewhat passable dive bar. He'd taken a loan out from an old friend and fine-tuned the place to his exacting specifications, making it an elegant yet distinctly working-class place. The floors were made of sturdy wood, strong enough to withstand any fights that might break out, and there had been a few. Sadly, the bloodstains never came out, so he'd had to replace them periodically anyway. The walls were decorated with a slightly Victorian flair, because if he was going to be a vampire for the rest of time, he was going to go in for the full aesthetic, goddamn it! It wasn't overwhelming, but it was definitely there. Booths lined the walls, save for the furthest end from the door, where the dance floor and small stage took up all the space. Sometimes bands played, but there was usually a DJ these days. The music was eclectic, but with a distinctly rock and roll leaning. Top 40 rarely made it into his establishment, and if it did, it better be fucking good. With the exception of a few themed nights he held regularly, the DJ kept the vibe energetic but tasteful.

A man came up to the bar, a stranger Lukas had never seen before. Of course, this wasn't an unusual occurrence, so Lukas treated him no differently than he would treat anyone else. At least half of his clientele came by once every few years, if that; a quick drink of the good stuff, a good night's sleep, and good-fucking-bye. Lukas looked the guy over as the man studied the menu behind the bartender: middle-aged at the time of his turning, upper class, definitely European. Shit. Those guys were a crapshoot at best, but most of them were complete assholes to anyone who wasn't Dracula's fucking firstborn. At least he wasn't bad looking. Dark-skinned, hair graying at the temples, eyes a bright green. Kind of silver fox-y, actually. If he didn't turn out to be a complete bastard, Lukas might just give him the time of day. The man finally met Lukas' inquiring gaze, offering a genteel smile as he finally placed his order.

"A bourbon on the rocks, please." His voice was heavily accented, sounding vaguely Spanish or Portuguese.

"Of course. Coming right up." Lukas smiled, grabbing the proper bottle. Thank the heavens above, this man had actual manners! "So what brings you to our little corner of the golden state?"

"Business, I'm afraid." The man replied, accepting his drink with another winning smile. He slipped a $20 across the counter, then waited patiently while Lukas got his change.

"What kind of business?" The rush was over for now, so Lukas wanted some entertainment that wasn't quietly cringing at the blatant acts of clothed sex happening in the darker corners of the dance floor. He began wiping down the counter just for something to do.

"Securing lodging for my sire and coven. We'll be visiting for about a week. Can you recommend anywhere, actually? You might save me a trip. I need something a little more…luxurious than the cots in the warehouses." The stranger laughed a little self-deprecatingly. "My sire is rather picky about accommodations."

Lukas laughed as well, waving off the man's concerns. "Nah, man, I get it. The older they are, the more stuffy. There's a new hotel down by the pier that just opened up. It's not perfect, but a few of the key employees are paid quite handsomely to ignore some of the more unusual guests. That any help, Mr…?"

"Ramiro. And you are?"

"Lukas. I own this place." Lukas grinned, seeing the spark of interest in Ramiro's eyes. "Yeah, I'm in good with the locals. I know most everything that goes on." He couldn't help bragging just a little bit. Maybe he'd get laid tonight.

"That's quite a feat, considering how many people pass through this place. Isn't Santa Carla one of the busiest Way Stations in the United States?" Ramiro teased.

"Yeah. I'd say one of the busiest in the world, but maybe that's just cause everyone who visits comes through here at one point or another. Gotta fill up on blood somehow, especially when the feeding limits are up." Lukas shrugged.

"Speaking of, I was wondering…" Ramiro trailed off when the bar suddenly grew quiet, except for the barely-perceptible whispering of some of the dancers. "What's happening?" He turned to Lukas, who was looking at the front door.

"Looks like the bosses just rolled in. Well, one of them, at least. Maybe more." Lukas set the glass he'd been polishing down, glancing at the bouncers stationed around the room. They usually weren't needed, but sometimes shit happened.

"The bosses?" Ramiro tilted his head, looking back at the door, which was slowly opening to make sure that none of the patrons milling about got hit.

"The King and his coven." Lukas winked at Ramiro before turning his attention back to the door. "The five rulers of Santa Carla."


Even the whispering stopped when the figure at the door stepped inside. High-heeled boots clacked against the wooden floors as the crowd parted, making way for the new arrival. She was pale-skinned, her brown hair dripping into a purple ombre on her shoulders, which were covered in a long military-style jacket. The gold braid complemented the rich black fabric, which matched the dark skintight jeans tucked into her Victorian-style boots. A laughing skull with a thorny rose in its mouth was embroidered on the back of her jacket; it was the symbol of her coven, a sign that she was one of the chosen few. Her lips were painted the color of dark wine, and dagger-shaped earrings hung from her ears. She looked beautiful and deadly, enticing and cruel. Lukas barely held back a laugh, recognizing the outfit for what it was.

Mae Clayton, sister of the king, was dressed for war.

She took her time crossing the room, seeing and being seen, before taking a seat at the only booth against the same wall as the bar. It was on a dais, raised a few steps above the crowd, giving it the appearance of both a throne and a private lounge. As soon as Mae took her seat on the left side, the music returned to its normal volume, and the patrons began dancing and drinking again. Ramiro noted that there was a slight tension in the air, a heady mix of anticipation and fear. Some looked eagerly at the booth and its occupant, while most just ignored them. A few were glancing warily at the door, as if expecting more people to come marching through. He turned back to Lukas, who was watching his reactions with interest.

"Who is she?"

"That, my friend, is Mae. She's the youngest of the group, technically, but don't let that fool you. She knows more about the vampire world and the people in it than anyone else I've ever met, and I've met a lot of people." Lukas grinned, serving a tequila shot to a customer before turning back to Ramiro. "Folks around here call her 'The Ripper'."

"And why is that?" Ramiro asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

"Because right after she was turned, she ripped the heart out of Old Widow Johnson, or Rosamund, as you Europeans might know her. She killed one of Dracula's oldest daughters with her bare hands." Lukas' grin turned feral, taking pride in how his boss's accomplishment made Ramiro shiver in quiet fear.

"She's the one that killed Rosamund? Damn…we heard about that back when it happened. We thought it was an exaggeration, the way she killed the old lady." Ramiro finished off his drink, letting Lukas refill it. "What about the others?"

"If they didn't come in with Mae, they're probably not gonna show up tonight, although sometimes Dwayne will stop by before closing to ride home with her. He's the lieutenant, second only to the king himself. You don't wanna mess with him. They call him 'The Wolf', and for good reason." Lukas laughed as Ramiro rubbed his forehead.

"Okay, so now that you've had your fun trying to frighten me into an early grave. If I'm to speak to the leaders of this city about allowing my coven inside, I should start with her?" Ramiro huffed. Lukas decided to give the poor man a break and nodded.

"Exactly. It's a good thing she's here, actually. She's the nicest out of the bunch, and she's got the authority to grant your boss permission to enter. You're here for the wedding, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. I came early since my sire likes to bring a rather large retinue with him when he travels." Ramiro finished off his second drink before straightening his suit coat.

"Thank you for your assistance, Lukas. I'll be remaining in the city until after the festivities, so perhaps I'll see you again?" The words weren't really a question. Lukas knew he'd scored.

"Of course. Have fun, Ramiro. Oh, and relax. Mae doesn't bite. Much." Lukas laughed at his terrible joke, waving Ramiro off to conduct his business.


Mae hadn't intended on making quite the scene when she came to the bar tonight, but she'd gotten word that several new vampires had been spotted in town, many of them reeking of money and power, so she'd decided that drama was the order of the day. If vampires like that were making the rounds around the city, it could only mean that the emissaries of the powerful covens were scouting out Santa Carla for their masters. Politically speaking, it would be wisest to appeal to their European sensibilities, since that was where most of their guests were coming from.

That meant dressing to the nines, and after a few decades of practice, Mae was nothing if not a master of vampire fashion. The military jacket was deliberate, for example: it was an outward statement of her coven's martial prowess, hers in particular, since she was the one who killed one of Dracula's own children with her bare hands. David had thought that the carefully coordinated outfit was overkill, but Marko had agreed that if you wanted to win a game, you had to play it by the rules…as long as it benefited you, at least.

A waitress dropped off a glass of Gentleman Jack on the rocks, and Mae threw her a wink in thanks. She was a new hire, but she'd seen the girl lingering around the bar for the last few weeks. Must be a new fledgling. She'd have to get her name to add to Marko's lists. If Lukas had hired her, then she should be trustworthy. Ugh. Security wasn't her forte, which is why she left it to Marko and Dwayne. She had a feeling Dwayne would show up within the next hour or so, since she'd texted him that she was heading over to Pandemonium to make a scene. He was a worrywart, that one, but she thought it was cute. Hopefully, she wouldn't need his help. The man approaching her booth looked harmless enough, so maybe tonight would go well.

"Welcome to Santa Carla, Mr…?" Mae smiled, offering the man a seat across from her in the booth.

"Ramiro. I represent Callistus, Leader of the Iberian Covens." Ramiro sketched a bow before taking his place. "Lukas, the gentleman at the bar, said that you would be the one to see about securing permission to enter the city."

"That's correct, Mr. Ramiro." Mae replied, taking a sip of her drink. "Can I offer you a beverage?"

"Thank you, but I had a few earlier." Ramiro answered politely.

"Then we'll get down to business. As my king's duly appointed representative, I hereby grant you and your coven permission to enter the city." Mae produced a small card from her insider her jacket, offering it to Ramiro. The small piece of cardstock had the skull and rose of her coven stamped on it, with Mae's signature along the bottom.

"Show that to anyone who questions you and your kin, and you'll be recognized as official guests of my coven. If you see someone wearing the laughing skull, they work for us. Should you need help, simply show the card to them, and they'll put you in contact with one of us. Otherwise, come to Pandemonium, and Lukas can help you with whatever you may need, although I'm sure you'll be coming here again for more than just business, Mr. Ramiro." The man in question laughed.

"Ah, so you saw that? Is Lukas emblematic of all Americans, Ms. Mae? He's one of the most straightforward creatures I have ever met."

"He is. That's why I hired him." Mae chuckled as she took another drink. "The rules that govern Europe are considered rather antiquated here."

"And yet you play the game so well, Ms. Mae." Ramiro grinned.

"My brother taught me. Túlio is quite adept at the politics of the vampire world, although he has as much use for them as I do."

"While I do enjoy the games of the European courts, I must agree that sometimes they can be quite…vexing." Ramiro sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Then I'm sure you'll find your stay in California rather refreshing. If your master seeks luxury accommodation, I suggest the Hotel del Mar a few miles from the boardwalk. It has a few private cabanas that should be able to house your party. You're extremely lucky, Mr. Ramiro; none of the other old lords have arrived yet, and their emissaries haven't booked any rooms yet. You can get as many as you need before they have any idea that they're gone." Mae's little laugh showed just how funny she thought the whole thing would be.

"Well, my sire does like outwitting the other coven lords, especially the Romanian coven." Ramiro joined her laughter with a few chuckles of his own.

"Between you and me, if this were my wedding, I'd invite the locals and be done with it. But alas, Túlio is something of a drama queen. I wouldn't be surprised if he found a way to raise Miguel from the dead just to wave his triumph in front of his face: all the world's most important covens, here in little old Santa Carla for Túlio's wedding. Miguel would burst into flames from the idea alone."

"That would be something to see." Ramiro agreed, well aware of the shame Miguel had brought upon himself by backing down on his word. Túlio had proven himself to be a capable and well-respected leader, which was why so many covens were coming to his nuptials.

Mae nodded, finishing off her drink. Her hand froze halfway back down to the table, but only for a fraction of a second. If Ramiro hadn't been looking right at her, he would have missed it. As it was, Mae was pretending that nothing had happened, so he went along with it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lukas signal to the bouncers at the door, who quietly locked the entrance. Hm. Interesting. Instead of throwing someone out, they were locking someone in…but why? He had his answer a moment later, when a large Polynesian man, dressed in black and wearing a laughing skull pin on his lapel, dragged a skeletal-looking man before the dais. Mae turned in her seat, crossing her legs as she stared down at the bedraggled prisoner.

"Oh, Niall. Back again, are we?" Mae sighed, leaning her head on her hand. "You know you're not supposed to be here, my friend."

"I was out…out of blood…couldn't…get any…" Niall's voice shook just as badly as his body, his face covered in dirt and dried blood. "I just need…just needed…something…to last the night…"

"…Mr. Nash, where did you find him?" Mae directed her attention at the bouncer.

"Behind the dumpster, sniffing at the old bags." Nash replied, his face impassive. "To his credit, he hasn't been seen in town until today, and there haven't been any murders reported."

"Did you search him?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you find anything?"

"Nothing, ma'am." Nash shifted to keep Niall from falling forward. The skinnier man was barely standing. "No drugs, no alcohol, not even pain medicine. He smells clean, too."

Mae was silent for a moment, her eyes boring into Niall's as the man struggled to stay on his feet. When she finally spoke, her eyes were sympathetic, even though her voice conveyed no emotion either way.

"Niall, my brother banished you from Santa Carla for a year. It's only been eight months."

"I know." Niall's eyes dropped to the floor.

"You were banished for killing well beyond the limits, and you did it poorly as well. We nearly had to kill a policeman, and you know how much trouble that is."

"…I know."

"My brother was well within his rights to kill you, Niall. You could have exposed us all." Mae leaned forward, waiting until Niall looked her in the eyes.

"Do you know why he didn't kill you, my friend?"

"No…"

"He didn't kill you because I intervened on your behalf. You were just a newborn, and no one had told you about the rules of our world. And you were an addict when you were changed, weren't you?" When Niall nodded, Mae continued. "I asked my brother to be lenient. You're a local boy, so of course you'd feel safest here. I knew you'd stuck around just beyond our borders, and I even had the guards send meals your way. What changed?"

"Travelers…kept getting…my food…before I did…" Niall coughed, dripping old, rotten blood from between his teeth. "Thought they were just…luck…the meals…"

"I might look like Lady Luck, but I'm not her. I have a vested interest in you, Niall. I want to keep you alive, but you're not making it easy for me." Mae sighed, scratching at her chin. "You've returned before your banishment ended, but you did so because you were hungry. Since Mr. Nash has confirmed that you're both sober and refraining from killing inside the city, I'm going to offer you a deal."

"A…deal?" Niall asked, confused.

"Yes, a deal. Lukas has been in need of a cleaner for some time, but he has yet to hire one. He keeps hiring waitresses instead." Mae shot Lukas an exasperated, if indulgent, look.

"This is my deal: you will serve the rest of your banishment here, in Pandemonium. You can sleep down in the basement in one of the private cots, so you won't disturb the guests if you relapse. If after four months, Lukas can tell me in good faith that you've served him well and you've remained clean, your banishment will be finished, and this violation will be overlooked. Fail him, and I will let the king decide your fate." The whole room when cold at the mention of the ruler of the city. He was not a kind man.

"Do we have a deal, Niall?" Mae stood, offering the man a hand to shake.

It took Niall a moment, but with Nash's help, he managed to stand tall and accept Mae's hand.

"I agree."

The tension bled from the room. Nash helped Niall downstairs while Mae ignored Lukas' pointed grumbling from the bar, which was just loud enough for her to hear. She turned back to Ramiro, enjoying his look of confusion.

"You didn't kill him?"

"No."

"But why not? He broke your king's decree!" In Europe, Niall would have been killed on sight.

"So he did." Mae slid her finger around the rim of her empty glass. "But I am not without mercy, and Niall is just a kid. I know what it's like to be on your own. It was by pure luck that I didn't end up like him. He only wanted to live, Mr. Ramiro. We all want to live. It's why we don't walk into the sun the first chance we get. My king knows that as well. He wouldn't give me the authority to act in his stead if he doubted my abilities." She raised an eyebrow at her guest.

"Are you doubting me, Mr. Ramiro?" Her tone was razor-sharp.

"Of course not, my lady." Ramiro bowed his head, only raising it when Mae turned back to the dance floor.

"We learned long ago that simply killing your problems would not solve them, Mr. Ramiro. It is better to be loved than to be feared, in my opinion. A good ruler may rest his hand on the pommel of his sword, but rarely does he draw it from its scabbard." Mae stood, watching as Ramiro stood as well, ever the gentleman. "I'm surprised that the lords of Europe haven't learned that lesson yet."

"Perhaps they will someday, Ms. Mae." Ramiro offered, but they both knew that the older the vampire, the more set in their ways they became.

"One can only hope. Please enjoy your stay here, Mr. Ramiro. Relay my king's offer of welcome to your sire, and let us know when they arrive. Lukas will be more than happy to fill you in on the rules of Santa Carla. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for me to head home." Mae offered her hand to her guest, who shook it firmly.

"Until next time, my lady." Ramiro smiled, his eyes tired after his rather confusing night.

"Until next time." Mae replied before sweeping out of the bar.

Behind her, the doors closed on the pounding music and writhing bodies, few of which even noticed her departure. It was as if she'd never been there at all.


"I swear to fucking god, the next time Túlio wants to get married, he can go to fucking Canada like everyone else!"

Mae's entrance was, like the one she'd made not an hour beforehand, full of drama. This time, however, there was no elegance to her performance, just exhaustion and the potential for a torrential outpouring of cursing. Her shoes were kicked haphazardly towards the rest of her brothers' shoes, bouncing against the little rack that was supposed to house them when they weren't being worn, but rarely saw any actual use. She unbuttoned her jacket and tossed it over the back of a vacant chair before falling dramatically over the back of the couch, tumbling head over heels onto Dwayne, who had been trying to take a nap. Her shoulder dug into his chest, effectively preventing him from going back to sleep. With a growl, he nearly shoved her off onto the floor, but thought better of it when he imagined the epic bitchfest that would follow such an action. Instead, he poked and prodded her until she wasn't jamming her various sharp edges into his skin.

"Mae, it's only a week away. You'll live." He grumbled, pulling her closer until they were practically spooning. It was the only way they'd both fit on the tiny couch.

"If I have to keep talking like a goddamn Victorian noble for the next week, I'll blast my own head off just to escape the pain." She growled, her voice muffled by Dwayne's arm as she buried her face in it.

Paul, who was in the kitchen rummaging around for something to cure his raging case of the munchies, finally found a bag of chips and sauntered back into the living room. He sat on a chair and popped the bag open, crunching loudly on the salty snacks.

"Aw, c'mon! You don't wanna do that, kid. It'll sting like a motherfucker."

Mae could just imagine the crumbs he was spraying everywhere, so she chose to ignore him completely. Instead, she cast her mind out towards the rest of her house, searching for her boyfriend. Marko seemed to be lingering in the attic, probably updating his files on the various movements of the local covens. For some reason, he actually liked the paperwork involved in running David's kingdom, but that was probably just because he had an excuse to spy on everyone. She nudged at his consciousness, grinning when she got his attention.

'Am I not enough to drive you away from your little black books, baby?"

'Of course you are, but I gotta finish this up if you want me all to yourself tonight, кохана.'

'Ugh. Fine, but don't take too long, okay?'

'Okay, baby.' The smile must have been evident on her face, because the next thing she heard was David's laughter ringing out from across the room. She opened her eyes to see him leaning against the door, smelling of smoke and ash from his recent cigarette.

"Aaaaw, did I interrupt something?" He teased, ignoring Mae's pointed glare. He laughed again when Mae just huffed and snuggled further back into Dwayne, who was barely holding back his own chuckles.

"How was the meeting with the Iberian?" David took a seat on the coffee table, wanting to get the update over with. Although Mae was more than capable of handling what he considered to be the most boring of all the pre-wedding tasks, David still wanted to know what was going on. He was nice like that.

"It went well. He's a nice guy, so I think we'll get along. If he and Lukas aren't banging by the end of the week, I'll eat my hat." Mae snorted, groaning as she stretched before sitting up, ignoring Dwayne's rumble of discontent at the loss of his personal blanket.

"His coven's probably gonna set up shop at the Hotel del Mar in the cabanas. His sire sounds like the type to want only the best shit for himself and his crew, so I'd alert our eyes over there to keep an ear out for him. Casper heard a rumor that the Iberians are feuding with the Swedes, so we should keep them separated when they come in. I'll let you know when they show up." Mae rubbed her forehead in anticipation of the shitshow that dealing with warring clans could be.

"Also, Niall showed up again."

"Oh? Why was he here?" David's tone was light, but she could sense the anger boiling up beneath it. David hated being defied.

"He was starving. Traveling vampires kept eating the meals I sent his way, so he was dried up. Nash found him sniffing around Pandemonium's dumpsters." Mae frowned, remembering how gaunt Niall looked. He reminded her of Casper a little bit.

"So what did you do with him?" David scratched his chin.

"Nash didn't find any drugs on him, and Niall's been keeping his nose clean in more ways than one, so I went easy on him. I told him that since he's been keeping his head down, he could serve the rest of his sentence inside Pandemonium as their resident janitor, basically. If Lukas felt that Niall had served him well by the end of it, then Niall would be free. I think he'll make it. He'd only have shown his face in Santa Carla if he was desperate." Mae said with conviction.

David knew that Mae had a soft spot for lost causes, since she'd been one once upon a time. Niall had been a coke addict before his turning by a rogue, who'd fucked off long before David and his family could find them. Mae had wanted to take Niall under her wing, but the newborn had caused too much damage before she could get her chance. David had offered mercy because Mae had asked him to. To see his generosity snubbed was a blow to his ego, but he could understand the need to survive outweighing all other consequences. Yeah, he'd let it slide, but not without a price.

"If he doesn't fuck up, he's your responsibility, Mae." David raised an eyebrow, his tone brooking no argument. "If he steps an inch out of line, he's dead. Got it?"

"Got it." Mae nodded. David admired the determination in her eyes, but he worried that her efforts would be for naught. Maybe it was because he just had no faith in people outside his circle, and Mae hadn't lived long enough to lose that little bit of humanity left in her. He didn't want to think that the possibility of Mae being disappointed bothered him so much was because he was gaining some humanity. Nah. Couldn't be.

Marko's footsteps on the stairway brought them all out of their somber thoughts, and the cares of leadership were thrown out of the window for the rest of the night. With the doors closed and locked between them and the world, they could all relax and be what they were truly meant to be: family.


Later that night, when the house was quiet and the sky was just starting to lighten with the haze of morning, Mae traced her fingers up and down Marko's collarbone, her lips drawn into a tight line as something pushed at the edge of her mind. A strange sense of foreboding was washing over her, although she had no idea why. The last few decades had been relatively quiet, with nothing truly dangerous threatening her beloved and her brothers. She hoped that it was just paranoia, or exhaustion from handling the political affairs of the city, but something told her that she wasn't just overthinking things. It wasn't until Marko caught her hand in his own that she was drawn from her musings, the sensation of his lips on her fingertips chasing away the shadows forming in her head.

"What's got you thinking so hard, кохана?" Marko murmured, half-asleep. He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, smiling when their gazes met. Over thirty years of being together had peeled back enough of his walls that he no longer feared showing such open affection to his beloved. Mae's answering smile was always worth the effort.

"…Just…" Mae huffed, biting her lip. "…I feel like something terrible is gonna happen. Like something's lurking just outside the house, watching us, waiting to strike. I don't mean like I feel a real person sitting outside, more like the world is going to shift beneath us, and there's nothing to hold on to…"

Marko frowned, studying the worry in Mae's expression. Neither of them was prone to premonitions or any other semi-mystical powers that sometimes popped up among their kind. Casper's innate ability to find people could be called otherworldly, but he was the only one Marko knew of personally who could be considered such an anomaly. Maybe this was something latent, but more likely than not, Mae was just overworked. Handling the incoming covens was already stressing her to her breaking point, and the true frenzy hadn't even begun yet. Still, he didn't want to dismiss her feelings entirely. That wouldn't be fair.

"…I want to say it's just your imagination, кохана, but if you really think it's something serious, you should let David know. We can keep an eye on things, alert the guards around town, maybe give Casper a call and see if he's heard anything strange." Marko pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling his girlfriend relax in his arms.

"Thank you, for not just saying I'm being stupid." Mae sighed, burrowing her face into his neck.

"You know I wouldn't, Mae." He pulled her as close as possible, feeling the sun begin to rise over the horizon. Sleep would beckon them in a few minutes, a call too strong to resist.

"I know, darling, but I still wanted to say it." She kissed his neck, smiling softly, knowing he would feel the movement of her lips. "I love you."

"I love you too, кохана." Marko whispered as the sun finally rose fully into the sky, the sleep of the undead pulling the two of them under into a quiet sleep.


Somewhere, halfway across the world, the trouble that plagued Mae's mind stepped onto a plane bound for California.