Author's notes: Probably one of our simplest stories (next to my own personal 'Flat Root Beer' and Drabbles collection. All in two deliciously massive chapters.


Plenty of fun on the boardwalk tonight. Concerts always seemed to bring out the best food for miles, more drunken teenagers and unwitting couples ready to go to just about any and every party, open for any kind of invitation to the more isolated stretches of beach if there was even the slightest hint of more booze and fun. Star was out of their hair for now, off to finally make her first damn kill and stop dragging them down with her irritatingly constant moping. It wore thin the first week, hell, the first day. With the boys, especially David, they had held out for awhile, days, weeks even but they hadn't whined about it, hadn't gone about their lives listlessly, no, they'd fought back but in the end the inevitable won out and they fed. Paul was the exception to the rule, the little bastard had bit in day one. He'd been too high to fight it much, even now a joint always seemed to turn him into a pig.

"You think she'll feed the kid, too?" Dwayne's voice echoed in David's mind. Babysitting duties were always up to him when Star didn't have him tailing at her bangled skirt. God only knew why Max decided an ankle biter would be a smart idea.

"I still think we should just get rid of the kid." David replied, "I don't think she's even going to feed now, bet she's just trying to get away from us for awhile." He glared out at the boardwalk, honestly he was sick and tired of dealing with both of them. This weird new family theme Max was trying to force on them was getting real fucking old, real fast. Old bastard had finally cracked.

"Let's go bug 'daddy'," Marko suggested, biting the thumb of his glove and winking at a group of girls as they walked by, giggling at the bad boys on their bikes.

"Can only make the night better." David said with a shrug, dismounting his bike and heading toward the video store, hands shoved in his pockets. They passed by a skinny woman with a pixie cut split between trying to help a little boy find his mom and lecturing what could only be her son. Something about skipping a concert his brother was at because he'd lost his wallet, begging her for some change to play a carnival game…he might as well have been ten, as whiney as he sounded.

David hated kids. They were little brats who did nothing but complain and try to get whatever they wanted. Then they'd get their sticky fingers all over whatever shit that wasn't theirs. More than once he'd eaten one of 'em for touching his bike. Cotton candy was a bitch to get off leather.

Max was making moon eyes with his ten-pound glasses when they walked through the door, staring at the skinny house frau before his face immediately stormed over at the sight of them interrupting his view. The mutt was growling.

"What? Can't stop in and say 'hi, dad'?" David sneered, smirking at him as he went over to a rack of videos.

"I'm busy," Max snarled in their minds, schooling his expression when the skinny woman came in holding the little boy's hand and her whiney son followed.

"Mooooom, just a couple bucks! C'mon, I'm good for it, you know I'm good for it!" The teen insisted, his tacky coat trailing behind him and sweeping the floors at the same time.

"Enough, Sam!" She chided, bringing the little boy to the counter.

"Leave!" Max commanded, offering a lollypop to the little boy and then the woman while he tried to focus on the woman. He had no candy to offer the third and loudest member of the little group. Another woman swept into the store to gather her child and left.

"Nah, I think we're gonna stick around and watch you make goo-goo eyes." David chuckled softly. Paul drummed a video on the back counter as if he were debating about taking it with him before the boys moved to another part of the store.

Marko, Dwayne, and Paul swept quickly to the register, while Paul obnoxiously remarked to the chick behind it, "we only come here to watch one thing!"

"Well done," Max told the woman, who laughed as she took a lollipop from him.

"A dollar...one dollar, that's all. I swear. Just a buck...that's like...less than a burger," her son butted in to Max's attempts at flirting.

She looked down at him with a sigh, "Sam, I said no." She said firmly.

David grinned, walking behind the woman, "Dinner tonight?" He questioned, licking his lips so only Max could see.

"No," Max replied, clapping his hands together and focusing on the woman in front of him, "my name's Max," he offered his hand. She smiled as she offered to take his hand, but her son quickly took it instead. Max kept his smile plastered on, settling on Sam's handshake with a laugh. "What can I help you with? We've got the best selection of video tapes in Santa Carla," Max didn't even bother looking back at David or the boys, finishing their conversation with a flare of satisfaction, "boys, meet your new mother...and brother…"

"You got a dollar you don't need?" Sam asked Max hopefully, shocking his mother into silence.

David snarled, "No fucking way. That little shit is no brother of mine, not ever."

The woman took a deep breath, "I'm Lucy, and I'm actually not looking for a tape…" She looked over at her son with a warning glare, "or money...what I need is-"

"A job?" Max queried, savoring David's anger like a rich dessert. He was an asshole.

"Yes," She laughed softly, "a job."

"I thought I told you not to come in here anymore?" Max looked back up at the boys, all but dismissing them. He'd made his point.

"This isn't over, old man." David glared at him before glancing at Paul, "Go ahead and take a movie Paul, whatever one you want." He looked back at Max, "When we get home we can pull it apart and see how it works. Make it a new release while you're at it."

Paul grinned, bobbing on his feet and hopping towards one of the video racks to snatch up a clamshell case, "see ya round, momma," he cooed at Lucy with a wink, following the rest of them out the door.

"Wild kids," Max huffed when they were nearly out of earshot. "Good thing they already paid for that this morning," he added, as if trying to make some sort of stupid impression and save the moment.

Back at their bikes, Star took her sweet time joining them. Still a halfling. Still pouting with Laddie at her heels.

David narrowed his eyes slightly, "What took so long?" He bit out, "Still nothing to show for all that wasted time."

She climbed on to the back of his bike with him and wrapped her arms about his waist, glancing back off into the crowd to watch a stormy-looking brunette who must have been following her. David's gaze followed hers and he took a moment to examine the teen. The way he focused on Star so intently, he'd probably make an easy first kill, but...there was something about him that gave David pause. He'd have to do a little following of his own and find out more about the kid, maybe he'd make a better companion than Star ever thought of being. Every time he even touched her, she acted as if she'd just been freshly raped, or like she expected his attempted caress to devolve into a disfiguring assault, and he was sick of it. Sometimes he'd look into her large, terrified eyes, and picture carving them out with his claws just so they'd stop staring at him.

As they took off, she reluctantly pressed her face to his shoulder, "do you want him to be my first kill?" She asked, her voice wavering. She knew she was walking a thin line these days. At least that was clear enough.

"Yes." He knew she wouldn't do it and at least it would get the teen to them with no effort on his part. This would almost make up for Max tonight. Speaking of which, no fucking way was he going to give in to this stupid new plan Max had without a fight.


"You seriously did that?" Michael snorted, kicking his sneakers off at the front door before trailing his mom into the kitchen. "Smooth move, Sam." He'd only been half listening when Lucy went off in the car about embarrassing her when she was trying to find a job, but he heard enough to know his little brother was in deep trouble. Right now, though, all Mike really cared about was that chick at the boardwalk...he didn't have a chance with her if she was into punks, but maybe he could at least try to look the part...she was really...really hot.

"I still don't know what you were thinking, Samuel Emerson, and I did not appreciate it one bit. I'm lucky Max still wanted to talk to me after you begged him like that…" She dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and busied herself filling a glass with water to calm her nerves.

"If someone hadn't taken my wallet I wouldn't have had to!" He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Had to? You had to make me look like I don't know how to teach my son manners?" She threw an arm up incredulously, snatching her glass of water and taking a long gulp.

Michael edged out of the kitchen to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. "Good luck, Sammy," he smirked, giving his little brother a wave and charging for the stairs. Gramps was standing at the top shining a stuffed beaver's nose with his robe sleeve. Michael stopped mid-step, staring up at the old man with a mixture of surprise and confusion. No doubt about it. He was absolutely insane.

"You...gonna do something with that beaver, grandpa?" Taxidermist or not, it was seriously creepy how many dead things they had stuffed into just about every room and corner in the house.

"Comic shop?!" Lucy exclaimed loudly in the kitchen, "no, young man, I will not drive you back to the boardwalk to find one tomorrow. You should have looked when you were there instead of following me around begging for money you know I don't have right now. You are grounded until you apologize!"

Michael cringed. He'd gotten out of there just in time. Sam probably would've pinned it on him for not keeping a closer watch or something, as if somehow he'd have kept him in line. "Grandpa?" Michael repeated, "the beaver?" Old man was still shining it.

"Gotta keep 'em in good condition, decoration makes a house a home." He replied, giving one final polish, "There."

He tried to smile, well...tried his best, anyway. Michael was pretty sure it looked about as genuine as it would if he'd just been told he was getting a root canal, "where...are you gonna put it?"

"Sam's room." He smirked at the young man, "Kid's gotta have a little more color in his room."

"...Good idea." He felt kinda bad for Sam, but there was no way Michael was going to take the bullet and volunteer his own room for grandpa's weird 'Grizzly Adams Feng Shui' experiments. Somehow he hadn't expected his first night in Santa Carla to be so...bizarre...but at least things could only get better from here. Maybe he'd pick up an odd job in the morning, scrape together some cash for a jacket. Leather.

Grandpa was silent for a moment before speaking, "Want to earn a couple bucks?" He asked after a moment of thought.

"Doing what?" God he hoped it wasn't scraping guts or something...or bleaching claws...Michael had absolutely no fucking clue what went into grandpa's job or hobby (or whatever it was), but he definitely didn't want to either.

"Need a couple of these beauties hidden around Sam's room." He patted the beaver, "10 bucks for ya if you scare him real good. Hopefully will help teach him a lesson."

"A lesson?" Michael frowned. This was his little brother, the kid he protected from bullies every summer back home at the public pool, his only brother, right now just about his only friend in the world too...how could grandpa honestly ask him to do something like that? For ten bucks? "Make it twenty."

"Deal." He held out the beaver, "Got a couple more in the shop."

Hey, if Sam ever got a girlfriend, he'd understand. Michael was more than happy to keep this a secret until that happened. No reason he had to know who hid the damn things. "Alright, I guess I'd better hurry before mom's done yelling at him."

Sorry, Sammy…


Laddie was snuggled up to his teddy bear desperate to dream and escape, for at least a little while. As young as he was, daytime slumber didn't come in gentle waves like it did with Star. He was safe from the occasional moments of lucidity and dark thoughts. Paranoid fear. Misery.

She wished she'd never met David. Wished she hadn't been so stupid. When she'd first seen all of them, free as birds, and heard the stories...the Lost Boys...they never seemed to age. Always stayed the same. Never had to worry about getting old, losing their looks. Honestly, Star hadn't really believed it. She'd just thought she was having fun, playing a game. With fire, sure, but it burnt her long before she could pull her hand away. Now she was stuck, burning...craving something she couldn't let herself have…

Because there was a trade-off for living forever, playing by your own rules, being completely free...and now that Star really understood, she didn't want to pay the price.

What would happen if she ran? Would she be able to ignore her growing hunger forever?

It was the same thing every night, David was the first one up and out into the ruined lobby of the hotel. He ignored her, settling into his usual place in the tattered wheelchair. He rested his chin on his fist, looking out at the waning light from the safety of the shadows.

Star quietly slid one leg over the side of the mattress she was resting on, watching him intently through her moth-eaten canopy. Her shield.

There was a fluttering sound outside, some of Marko's pigeons being disturbed, before they took flight into the hotel lobby to roost in their hidden, darkened corners. Something or someone must have been outside.

"David…" Star whispered nervously, keeping her head bowed so she wouldn't have to look at his eyes. Frankly, they terrified her. He terrified her.

He looked at her, his attention drawn away from the pigeons, "What, Star?" His words were clipped as he spoke, she was sure he was getting tired of waiting for something she would never do.

"Are we going out tonight?" Or would they leave her here, like they usually did? Forget about the boy from the boardwalk, let her go a few more days without killing...that would be nice…

"Yeah, you're gonna find that boy." He said firmly, "And you're gonna feed."

Her fingers curled into her glittering shawl, the very thought made her sick with fear. She didn't want to kill. She didn't want to be a monster. "But-"

"But what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, "Come on, let's hear it. Remember, you wanted this, you asked for this."

"I didn't ask to kill people," she whispered, pulling her shawl even tighter while her head remained tilted. "I didn't know I had to."

He let out a snort of derision, "Price we pay, did you think it would be all sunshine and puppies? Vegetarians? We're the top of the food chain, Star."

Tears were openly streaming down her face now, and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and stymie the flow, "but why can't you just stop before they're dead?"

"You've seen how we feed, right?" He asked incredulously, "Wounds like that can't really just close up, now can they? Besides, where's the fun in that? No witnesses."

"Did you do this sort of thing when you were human, too? Murder? Kill innocent people?" She didn't know why she said it, knew the minute the words came out of her mouth that it was a mistake, because this time there was little submissiveness in her tone, and instead an open note of anger. Defiance. She wouldn't kill that guy on the boardwalk tonight. Not now, not ever.

He chuckled softly, "Can't say that I ever killed anyone before, thought about it a thousand times, who doesn't? What? Did you think I was a mass murderer before I turned?"

"How else can you live like this?!" She opened her eyes, reaching up to wipe at her cheeks, sure her makeup must be blotched and smeared by now. She didn't have much left. Didn't even know why she bothered with it anymore, except it was the one thing that helped her feel normal. Distracted her from this place, and these things she lived with.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Things change, you'll understand." He sounded so sure of himself, "Gotta tell you, I may have refused to feed at first but you get over it once that blood hits your tongue." He licked his lips slowly.

With nothing else to say to him, Star laid back down and turned her back on David, shoving her face in her pillow as she tried to drown out the sound of the crashing waves outside, or the echoing laughter of the rest of them as they began to wake up.

"Get ready, we'll be leaving soon." He ordered as the others flew in, Paul and Marko shoving at each other, fighting about something.

Star didn't have it in her to fight with him, so instead she just snatched up a patchy towel beside her bed to scrub her face, erase the evidence of her tears, and hopefully find a way to avoid him for as long as she could once they got to the boardwalk. The same thing she did every night.

"Laddie, bring me my eyeliner," she mumbled, letting her shawl fall to the mattress.


Your new mother has another son. His name is Michael. Find him and bring the boys into the family. Don't forget to pick up my drycleaning.

Max

David crumpled the paper in his fist, his lip curled into a snarl, another kid? What if he was worse than the blonde? He wasn't Max's errand boy, if he picked up dry cleaning it would be to toss it in the ocean.

"Good news?" Marko leaned close, propping an elbow up on David's shoulder with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He threw the ball at him, "Read it yourself."

He caught it with his free hand, just barely, and nearly fell in the process, "hm…" Marko uncrumpled the ball and quickly scanned the contents with an intense frown, as if he were reading a dissertation, before he passed it on to Paul, who preferred to tear it in half with his teeth instead.

"That's a shame," Marko sighed, "the drycleaners he uses...isn't that the place that burnt down?"

Star, who wasn't in on Max's relationship with them, only watched the boys with a confused expression while she kept her hands clasped safely over Laddie's chest.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is." Dwayne replied with a smirk, "And if it's not who's to say it won't."

"You can never tell with these things," Paul agreed sagely, which was quite a feat, coming from the rocker.

"Let's head out, boys." David mounted his bike, "The night ain't gettin' any younger."

Star reluctantly let Laddie leave her side to ride with Dwayne. Then, she took her accustomed place with David, trembling as she did so. Her thoughts...were predictably the same as they always were. If every group had a buzzkill, she was definitely theirs. He shut her thoughts out of his mind, choosing to focus on the ride, the feel of the wind against his face, in his hair, they'd have fun when they hit the boardwalk and found that teen. He'd just have to make sure Star found him. Shouldn't be too hard. The stricken look he'd had when she climbed onto the back of David's bike was evidence enough of that.

No concerts tonight. No tittering groupies or headbanging idiots or burn-outs with fake tickets pretending to be scalpers. Just the usual crowd, most of them smart enough to give the boys a wide berth while they parked their bikes. Still, there were a few drifters, vacationers hanging around Santa Carla for the summer before fall hit and they headed for greener pastures, warmer and less...dangerous. Plenty of opportunity tonight for a good time. The quick errand for Max hadn't taken them any time at all, and Dwayne even managed to get a nice meal out of it when he'd graciously offered to help the owner shut down early.

Surprisingly enough, finding the kid from the night before was easy, very easy, and he was looking to get his ear pierced if his thoughts were anything to go by. He nudged Star, "There he is." He pointed discreetly, "Go on, have some fun."

She quickly slipped away, feet light as air, and they took off to give her some distance. An illusion of privacy. Star worked remarkably fast, flirtatiously tossing her hair while she said something to the boy. It didn't really matter what, because soon he was tailing her like a lost puppy, "name's Michael," he told her when they were closer.

"Michael. Michael's great, I like Michael…" She smiled, and then they approached a bike parked not too far off. Michael?

"Want to get something to eat?" He hopped onto his bike.

"Okay," she smiled, stepping closer to him, and now it was their turn.

David sidled up on his bike, cutting them off, "Where're you headed, Star?" Michael? Could he be the one Max meant? Slowly he looked the teen up and down, not a local, so probably. Maybe he wouldn't give Michael Max's blood. If he did that he'd have zero influence over him and he saw how well that worked with Max and themselves. He wasn't their maker, after all, just the asshole who came to town and took over when theirs got ashed.

The flirtatious smile faded in David's presence, and she immediately paled, "for a ride. This is Michael."

"Let's go," Michael leaned over, offering his hand to her, eyeing David warily and just as intensely as David watched Star. He wasn't intimidated by them. Not in the least.

"Star." David's tone was warning as he narrowed his eyes at her. What was she playing at?

For a moment, it looked as if she was having second thoughts about leaving, and almost came to heel behind David...but then she was climbing onto Michael's bike, and the human smirked back at him with a shrug, kicking off and driving away.

Not even Paul knew what to say.

"Did she just do that?" Marko looked around, "did she really just do that?!" He was practically squawking.

Dwayne smoothed his hair back, looking thoughtful, "I guess that means she's making her first kill tonight after all…"

"She won't and we have to make sure she doesn't." David shot back, "How do you think Max will feel if his precious little boy washes up with the surf?"

Paul outwardly laughed, "scared 'daddy' will beat your ass?" He immediately regretted the remark with one look from David.

"I want him. Gotta test him but can't let Max get his grubby little paws on him. My blood, my turn, and we won't have to deal with another Star." David revved his bike and took off into the darkness after them.

The others didn't have time to exchange funny looks, but they were all thinking the same thing. David was throwing a red flag down, and Max probably wasn't going to let this one go. Very rarely did they manage to push him too far, and it wasn't pretty when it happened. But their loyalty first was to David, so they simply followed him into the night.


"Sorry I couldn't spring for much, I really thought burgers would be cheaper here," Michael held out a red snowcone, smiling sheepishly at Star. It felt good to get the girl, especially when he thought he didn't have a chance after he got a real good look at blondie's bike. But it wasn't like he worked out for nothing...plenty of girls back in Phoenix liked him even before he had a ride. This one was different, though...wild. Special. Also, not wearing a bra, and that was a definite plus.

"So, uh," he looked down at his own treat, the ice twinkling under the stall's Christmas in July lights, "why are you with those guys, anyway?"

She bit her lip slightly, "I...There isn't much of a choice." Her eyes widened slightly when she realized what she said, "They don't hurt me or anything, I just have nowhere else to go."

He wasn't sure what to do with that. Michael was a little concerned now that he'd just picked up a prostitute, but he kept the thought to himself. She didn't seem like the type. "They're not making you stay with them, are they?" Shit...this was a little uncomfortable now.

She gave him a small smile, eating some of her snowcone, "I ran away from home and they took me in." She looked out at the night, toward the beach, "You should stay away from them, Michael, and me, you deserve someone better."

He relaxed a little, putting an arm around her shoulder, "so they're your friends, then...crazy protective, huh? I'm not worried." He could probably take them one-on-one individually if he had to, but Michael wasn't really looking to start any fights. "You want to take a walk on the beach, or is there somewhere else you'd like to go?" Michael only realized after he said it that he sounded like he was trying to get laid...hopefully she didn't take it the wrong way.

"The beach would be nice." She let herself lean into him a little.. She smelled nice. Kind of...there was an odd earthiness under the perfume, but...well, she was a hippie, or her parents were, so it wasn't too bad.

"Cool," he grinned, leading her over the slats of the boardwalk edge where his bike was parked in the sand. It was pretty dark out, but he walked carefully. She didn't seem to have much trouble making her way, even with bare feet.

The wind quickly picked up around them, throwing sand into their snow cones and savagely tearing at their hair. Michael bit back a cuss word, throwing his sweet treat to the ground. So much for dinner. Just as suddenly as that, the wind died down all at once.

Star gripped at one of Michael's shoulders, so sharply he could almost swear she had claws, digging into the leather of his jacket. "Hey, easy, calm down," he flinched, trying to soothe her. Kind of hard when she couldn't seem to let go.

"I'm sorry, Michael, we can't do this," she apologized, finally pulling back and shaking her head back and forth.

"Do what? Star?" He held out a hand, only to find her backing away further onto the beach. Then she tore off, kicking up sand behind her as she went, almost too fast for him to believe. Michael looked down at his spilt snow cone, and then back up towards her fading silhouette. What the hell was that all about?

Bewildered, he walked back towards the snowcone stall, slumping down in a bench. Whatever it was that scared her off, the chick had issues. So here he was again, just like the night before. Alone in a city with no friends, no girl, no job, no money...nothing to do, and nowhere to go but home. Maybe he could sell the jacket back and at least have enough cash to get himself some dinner. Hell, maybe even buy Sam a comic. He felt pretty bad that morning anyway when his little brother woke him up screaming bloody murder after he found that stuffed family of squirrels hiding in his underwear drawer...


David watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Star ran from her 'date'. He glanced toward the others, "Go make sure she doesn't get herself in trouble." He ordered before turning his attention to Michael. He strolled toward him, seeming to just be on a walk of his own, "Didn't expect to see you again so soon, Michael, wasn't it?" He questioned, startling the teen.

He jerked up, eyeing David warily, thoughts in a confused muddle over tonight's course of events. "Yeah." Michael paused, standing up and tucking his hands into his jacket pockets, "if you're looking for Star, she freaked out and ran off." He shrugged helplessly, clearly at a loss to even begin to understand what was wrong with the bohemian girl who'd reeled him in tonight only to cut the hook without warning.

"Nah, was out for a walk, up to her what she really wants." Obviously she wanted to be a meal rather than the predator, well, he could arrange that, "Care to join me? You're new in town, right?"

He looked thoughtful for a minute, then gave a slow nod, "yeah. Guess you've been here for awhile?" Michael glanced over David's shoulders towards the beach, seeing no signs of his bike or friends. "You walk all the way out here?"

"Been here a long time." He agreed with a nod, "Yeah, walked, sometimes I just like to enjoy the night." He looked out at the waves, "You have a bike." It was a statement, not a question, "Should come riding with us one night, can show you around, give you a lay of the land."

"Sure," Michael shrugged, "not much else to do around here until I find a job. Not too hot on the kiddy rides and junk jewelry shops they've got everywhere. Is Star going to be with you later?" He looked a little wary, halfway between wanting to know why she'd ditched him and relief he hadn't gotten mixed up with crazy.

He shrugged, "Do you want her to be?" He shot back with a question of his own.

"I don't know, man," he scratched at the back of his neck, "she's hot, and all...just a little weird. Acted like I was gonna hit her or something."

"Hey, you want her around, cool, all good, you don't and you don't have to be around her. Not gonna force something on you." David's voice was understanding, almost kind, it was the voice he used to reel people in and it worked.

"Hey," Michael held up his hands, "if she's your girlfriend, you don't have to worry about me."

"She's not, I just look out for her, more like a sister than anything else. I've got a soft spot for the lost ones."

"What, like, you run a shelter or something?" He gave David a quick once-over, his expression more than dubious at the idea.

He couldn't help but laugh, tossing his head back, "Fuck no, just tend to have the nasty habit of drawing those in need of help to me. More like a club, keep 'em out of trouble."

"No offense, uh...what's your name?" Michael queried, belatedly realizing he hadn't even bothered to ask.

"Shit, sorry, David." He held out his hand.

"Right, well...David...you kinda sound like a pimp. Are you?" He threw it out there awkwardly, already seeming to regret the question once he asked. "You know what, never mind, none of my business."

"No, not a pimp, gang leader? If you want to call us a gang I guess." He couldn't help but find that funny, him, a pimp. Well, he supposed he did take a cut of whatever they stole. If he was a pimp, he was pretty sure there'd be plenty of freaks out there willing to pay a couple bucks for Marko's happy ass. Not Paul, though...talked too much, "More like Fagin in Oliver Twist?" That was a better analogy.

"Ah, never read it...but I get what you're saying. Guess that make sense, not many places to get a job around here." Jacket or not, Michael wasn't a troublemaker. One look at his thoughts was evidence enough, and hard to imagine that tiny woman at the boardwalk Max was so hard up for would really raise a punk for a son. "I'd better be getting home. Nice meeting you, I guess."

"Michael." He said as he turned away, "Keep the jacket, it suits you." He smirked at him, "And if you want something to do tomorrow night come find me." He gave him a little salute before heading back down the beach.

Apparently Star had put up quite a fight, because by the time he found the boys, Paul was nursing a bleeding nose while Dwayne had her squirming and slung over his shoulders. Laddie stood nervously beside Marko, clearly pretty upset.

"She got you good, Paul." He chuckled softly, walking up to her and grasping her chin, forcing her to look at him, "Hello, Star."

She snapped her teeth at him angrily, wiping the blood from her cheek where Dwayne had probably scratched when he'd tried to restrain her. The longer she waited to kill, the crazier she'd get during a fight. "Let me go!" She demanded, trying to pry Dwayne's arm from around her waist.

"The bitch broke my nose!" Paul whined, even as the cartilage mended beneath his palm.

David growled softly, lips pulled back, eyes golden, and teeth bared, "Shut up, Star." He snapped his teeth, grasping the back of her neck and pinching hard, "Don't worry, I've taken care of poor, little, Michael."

She paled considerably, finally settling down enough with a heavy sob and settling limply over Dwayne's shoulder. "Why?" She whispered, "you've already killed twice this week."

He let out a snort, "Didn't say I killed him." He grinned at the boys as she cried. This was the most entertainment they'd gotten out of her in weeks, "Don't worry, Star, we'll find you another meal."

Marko hopped onto his bike, holding up his fingers, "Davey...what's this one...strike two? One more and…" He giddily drew his claws just for the effect of making her whimper, sliding one of them lightly across his neck and trailing a very thin line of bright red blood.

Dwayne threw her to the ground, stepping over Star's slumped form to make his way to his own bike just as Laddie took the cue and hopped on. The kid didn't do much, but at least he stayed out of their way.

"Get on, Star, we're going home." David ordered, straddling his own bike, "This is getting ridiculous. You don't want to feed, fine, you can starve to death but you're not doing it out here. Get on."

Shakily, the fight gone from her like a punctured balloon, Star climbed to her feet and stumbled through the sand towards him. She was already getting weaker, and pretty soon she'd end up solving their problem before they could do it for her. It was a miracle she even managed to clasp her arms around David's waist.

"What's the plan?" Dwayne glanced over at David before kicking his bike into gear.

"Need a way to test him." He replied, gunning his bike and taking off, "Haven't thought of a good way to do that yet." He paused, "Maybe should dump Star and Laddie off with Max, he can have his own little family right there at home."

"You sure Thorn won't just have a couple of new chew toys instead?" Paul cackled, any soft spot he might have had for her thoroughly tempered by the damage to his ego and face.

"Probably but once we drop 'em off no longer my problem."

"Max is gonna be pissed," Marko cringed. They hadn't had a 'lesson' from Santa Carla's resident head vampire in a very long time, but there was always an off chance they could take it too far. He'd probably be too busy focused on middle aged Lucy and her sons to do anything, though. The old fuck had an insanely unbalanced one-track mind.

"Fuck Max, all I have to tell him is that if he wants Lucy and her kids he'll take Star and Laddie, if not I'll make sure he gets nothing." David was getting brazen and he knew it but now was the time to push because Max had something on the line for once. Star's stupid little stunt tonight was the final straw. She was going to put them at risk too if they didn't do something.

If Star and Laddie noticed they were going in a different direction from the hotel they didn't mention it. Max would still be out at the video store, he didn't tend to come back until near dawn so now was the perfect time to dump them off. They pulled up outside the gate and David looked back at Star.

"Get off, you too Laddie, you're staying here with your sire." He bit out, "I've had enough."

"Wh...but I thought you-" Star whispered shakily, the new revelation that she might not have had David's blood a little too much for her to handle in one night with everything else that had happened.

He let out a snort of derision, "No, you're not mine. You're his, now get off."

Dwayne helped Laddie to the ground, giving the kid a two-fingered salute with a tap of his head, "seeya, shrimp." You'd almost think he had a soft spot for the little brat and his babysitting job, but Dwayne had a tendency to get attached to any sort of hobby for very short periods of time. Last time it was scrapbooking.

Star slipped off of the back of David's bike, taking Laddie's hand in hers, "I'm sorry…" she whispered, tilting her head down, "please don't leave us." With them around, she had someone to blame for her problems, without them...the hunger would probably get a hell of a lot worse.

He shook his head, "You don't want to feed, you don't want to be part of our pack, so you're Max's problem now." He got off his bike, "Here, I'll even let you in." He pushed the gate open, knowing Thorn wouldn't bother him. The dog eyed them, taking them in, but doing nothing as David opened the door and motioned them inside, "He's probably got a couple bottles in the fridge, you can eat something and then when he gets back feel free to explain this whole thing to him."

For Star and Laddie, maybe the devil they knew was better than the one they didn't, but really...David was past caring anymore. He had better things to worry about.

"I want a dog," Marko sighed, sliding off his bike. "A big fluffy one...with a kickass set of chompers…" He always got like this when he was around the hellhound. "Wouldn't have to worry about burning leftovers anymore."

Dwayne rolled his eyes, "We can't have a dog, idiot, you would never take it out."

He huffed, "we don't have a door! Not like he couldn't go out when he wanted…"

Paul wrinkled his nose, "I don't want a dog shitting on my stash, it's bad enough with the fucking pigeons."

David came back out the door the moment he had them safely inside, "Let's get home boys before Max shows up." He gave Thorn a pat on the head before closing the gate, "I don't want to be here when he gets back." He hopped back on his bike. One problem dealt with. It was going to be a great week.


Final day of the dreaded grounding, final stupid rat found under his bed (on a stack of his comics!) Sam couldn't believe his luck. From Phoenix to weirdsville, with Texas Chainsaw Grandpa downstairs probably working on his next trick to scare the crap out of him.

"Mike!" Sam shouted, digging through one of the pockets in an old coat hanging in his closet, "Mike, can you pick up a comic for me later? I think I saw a place before mom chewed me out!"

Michael poked his head into the room, "can't you just get it tomorrow? I thought you were broke." He was drenched with sweat, having just finished mowing the front lawn to get a few bucks of his own. Seemed like his brother was just burning through his cash now...and he still wouldn't lend Sam a measly dollar! Only one!

"Well, if someone would help me find my wallet it wouldn't be a problem!"

Michael rolled his eyes, "you want lunch? I'm gonna go make a sandwich." He didn't wait for an answer before he was gone. There had to be more to his mowing the lawn than just the money, he was way too focused. Kinda like when he got dumped last fall.

Sam went after him, still whining, "Yeah, make me a sandwich." He grumbled, "Least you can do since you won't give me a dollar."

"You could try mowing the backyard, too, if you really want money that bad, Sam." Michael yanked open the fridge door and began to gather ingredients for a pile-up of meat, cheese, odds and ends. "Or maybe when mom lets you leave the house, sell a few of the comics you don't read anymore."

Michael turned back and grinned at him, winking, "or you could help gramps with a few projects, huh? Take up the family business?" Speaking of the old fart, grandpa shuffled into the kitchen to grab a root beer.

"Keeping out of trouble, eh?" He ruffled Sam's hair and twisted the lid off his frosty drink.

Sam crinkled up his nose, no way would he ever go into taxidermy, it was just...creepy.

"Sam, I'll make a deal with you," Michael began spreading mustard on a slice of bread, "wash my bike, make a brush pile, and do some laundry...maybe I'll be able to convince mom to let you off tonight, and I'll even drop you off at a comic shop if we find one."

He scowled, "A brush pile?"

"Yeah, bunch of dead branches at the side of the house," Michael shrugged, quickly slapping Sam's meal together and holding out the plate to him. "Deal or not?"

The old man took Sam's plate before he could get his hand on it, "sounds like a good one to me," he grunted, lumbering out of the kitchen.

"Fine, fine, I'll do it." He grumbled, "I want my sandwich first."

Michael snorted, slathering another slice of bread, "yeah, I got you covered. Gotta look after my little bro, huh?" This was turning into a real Brady Bunch moment. Michael rolled his eyes when Sam started to gag and point a finger towards his mouth, "grow up, Sam."


When he'd parked his bike, towing his little brother with a headlock down the boardwalk, Michael couldn't help but laugh, "what's wrong? Can't break it?" It wasn't dark yet, so none of the ride lights had been switched on. There'd be plenty of time for him to drop him off and maybe Sam could get a ride home with mom after she got off work later.

Sam squirmed, pushing at his arms, "Le'me go!" He punched at his side, "Stop being mean!"

"Or what?" Michael asked, though he did loosen his grip a little, "gonna beat my ass, dork?"

"I'm gonna tell mom you were mean and she'll ground you, how about that, butt-face?"

He released his hold on Sam and stepped back with his hands up, "alright, alright. I get it. Don't cry, Sammy."

"Asshole." He grumbled, rubbing his neck.

"Listen, I'm gonna go see if I can find someone, but you want me to grab you a burger?" Michael tucked his hands into his pockets, trailing behind Sam and scanning the crowd. Not a lot of people, but Santa Carla seemed more like a nightlife kinda place anyway.

He nodded, still rubbing his neck, "Yeah, I'm hungry, could use a burger."

"Cool," he nodded, giving Sam a funny look. "Did I actually hurt you?"

"Come on, it hurts! You grip too tight."

He could've stuck around for an awkward apology, but just then, something caught his attention. A glittering earring. Michael gave Sam a quick noogy and dodged off through the boardwalk. There probably weren't many comic shops around, so he shouldn't have to worry too much about finding him later. He ignored Sam's indignant squawks about burgers. Apparently fries, too. How much money did he think gramps actually paid for that yard work?

Turned out whoever was wearing that earing was just another face in the crowd. By the time he caught up to them, Michael realized he didn't really know where he was anymore, and he hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings. Conch shops and surf board 'palaces' stretched as far across the decks as he could see in one direction, while sand stretched behind him in another.

About half an hour later of wondering, and the first light flipped on at one of the shop fronts. Then the ferris wheel and roller coaster lit up...and one-by-one like stationary fireflies, or stars, the boardwalk was glowing. He scowled, wondering if maybe now would be a good time to grab that burger for Sam, and then an odd laughter seemed to float about him, separate from the chatter of the crowd. It disappeared just as quickly.

Then some dickhead with a cotton candy mohawk came swinging at him out of nowhere. He'd like to think he had the reflexes to avoid it, but since there were no eyes in the back of his head, Michael took a pretty rough knock to the ground.

"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, rolling over onto his back and glaring up at the asshole laughing at him. At least he had the sense to roll away before the pointed boot came hurtling towards his ribcage. Michael recovered enough to stumble to his feet and head butt the jerk in the stomach. He shoved him back, giving him a few punches in the side for good measure before he managed to straighten back up and raise his fists.

The guy raised his fists in return, "Come on, wuss, bring it!"

"What's your problem, man?!" Michael spat, jumping back and really just barely managing to avoid a black eye by sheer luck. Fights were never as smooth or one-sided as movies made them look, and assholes always fought dirty. So...why shouldn't he? Michael gave a silent prayer of apology for what he was about to do, but he really didn't want a medical bill tonight if the fight went south...the fight he hadn't even been responsible for...and he threw all his strength into a good, solid kick to the guy's balls, swinging forward to knock him in the jaw with a right hook.

Cotton candy Goliath took a fall, and was too busy sobbing to get back up.

...The fuck was that all about? Michael looked up at the small circle that had formed around them, cringing. If this got back to mom, she'd probably have a freak attack. He almost managed to wash his hands of the whole thing and get away, but apparently one dick-head picking a fight was an invitation for another, because now there was another one breaking through the circle, and this one didn't even have any hair. Just a bizarre nose ring.

Still aching from the yard work he'd spent the day laboring over, Michael was not ready for the next one, "what is wrong with you people?!" He cussed, just when another fist came flying.

He got lucky, could have sworn it was going to connect, but the next thing he knew the guy was laid out flat and David was standing over the fallen man, hands clenched into fists, "Asshole." He gave him a swift kick to the side for good measure.

"Jesus Christ…" Michael exclaimed, running his hands through his hair and pressing them against his forehead, not noticing David's slight flinch at those words. "Do...do you know what that was about?!"

"Gang initiation I assume." He replied, "Glad I came this way. Think a couple more were gonna go after you next." A quick look from him, and the circle that had formed around them quickly dissipated. Suddenly, apparently the fighting wasn't nearly as interesting to the nervous-looking fair goers.

"They could've killed me," Michael said aloud, stunned. If there were that many more coming...there's no way they wouldn't have been aiming for just that. No wonder Santa Carla was the murder capital of the world. "Thanks, David, I owe you one," he held out a hand, wiping sweat out of his eyes with the other and panting softly. He'd have to be more careful next time he came out to the boardwalk on his own.

He took his hand, his grip firm, "Nah, I've got your back." He grinned, patting him on the back.

"Where're your f-" Michael glanced around, the words dying on his lips when he spotted them, all three of them leaning against the side of a shop brazenly passing a joint around as if they were invisible to the world and immune to any kind of law. Not that he thought any cops out here really cared much. "Never mind. Listen, I've got to go grab my brother a burger real quick."

"I'll join you, there's a great little known burger place nearby." He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, "Little hole in the wall place."

"That works," he shrugged. Sam wasn't picky as long as they had mustard...not like he should be anyway. It was Michael's money. He followed David over to the shop where the others were gathered, nodding at them and shrugging off the joint when the guy with the wild blonde hair offered it.

"No thanks," he shook his head. "Later, maybe." Last thing he needed when he went home later was explaining that smell to mom.

"Suit yourself," the blonde shrugged, greedily stuffing it back into his mouth before the smaller blonde at his side could grab it.

David shook his head, "Michael, these are Dwayne, Marko, and Paul." He introduced each in kind. They had funny looks, like they were sharing some kind of personal joke. Probably the pot. He nodded to them in greeting, his hands firmly tucked into his pockets. For a gang, they seemed alright. At least they hadn't tried to corner him in a fight for no good reason. Didn't look like Star was with them...he hoped she was okay. Hadn't gotten herself hurt when she ran off last night.

David pulled out a small flask as he lead the way, taking a drink before holding it out to Michael, "You deserve it after that fight." He prompted, licking his lips. He had an oddly intense look Michael couldn't quite place. Probably just wound up after the fight.

Reaching out to take the flask with one raised eyebrow, Michael glanced at the others behind him. Funny. They looked exactly the same. "What's in it?" He sniffed the contents. Cloves. Spice. Probably something sweet.

"Spiced wine." David replied, "Ambrosia, nectar of the gods." He smiled, "It's good."

Couldn't hurt, could it? Michael tossed back a swig, feeling the warmth all the way down until it pooled in his stomach. Holy shit. "Wow," he remarked quietly, unable to resist closing his eyes and savouring the taste.

"I've got more back home, have as much as you want." David smirked, patting him lightly on the back.

There was a faint, not unpleasant rushing sound in his ears, "thanks," Michael licked his lips, greedily drinking the rest. Couldn't get enough of it. He opened his eyes, offering the empty flask back to David, completely oblivious to the wild energy or delight in his or the others eyes. "Never had wine like that before," he remarked with a slightly intoxicated smile. No joke. Didn't even taste like wine. What was he supposed to do again? Something important…

David grinned, "I'm sure you'll get plenty more of it too. Come on, let's go get baby brother that burger then we can go have some fun." He tucked the flask back in his coat pocket.

"Right," he shook his head, "yeah. Burger."

Somehow it was a lot faster to actually find his bike than it had been to get lost on the boardwalk earlier, and theirs were parked around his as if they'd all come there together tonight. It was comforting in a way. To be accepted in a new place, to have...friends. He had been worried about fitting in, about finding his niche, it looked like it had found him instead.

Michael quickly hopped onto his bike. Already tonight was looking better than last night. Too bad about Star, but he was already over it now. "Which way?" He looked towards David, parked just a little further ahead of him.

"Was thinking about a nice, fast, ride to get the blood pumping." He grinned, "I'll show you where we call home."

Sounded fun, but…"I can't beat your bike."

"You don't have to, you just have to keep up." It was a challenge, that much was readily apparent. Well, Michael was never one to back down.

They didn't even give him a chance to respond before they kicked off. Bewildered, he followed. His ride felt smoother than ever. Fast. That wine left him feeling like he was cruising on air. David let out a howl ahead of him as they flew through the night. Then, like a pack of wolves, the others followed suit. It was eerie, the way the fog seemed to almost entirely consume them, save for their darkened silhouettes, or an occasional bit of brushwood he'd just narrowly avoid swerving into.

Maybe it was false courage from the wine playing games with his head, and there was no way in hell he thought it was just wine now, but he didn't think he'd ever pushed himself this hard before, or ridden this fast. By now they'd probably passed that burger joint ages ago. He squinted in the dark and fog, blinked a few times as he leaned forward. Funny. It seemed like everything looked a lot sharper now.

The fog dissipated just as quickly as it appeared, when they drew up alongside a large gate generously decorated with warning signs and the occasional pair of worn-out sneakers tied to a link, or even a weather-beaten bra slung over the top in memory of whatever horny couple might have been there to mark their date in summers passed.

They parked their bikes, and one-by-one trailed towards a large expanse of rickety wooden-steps winding up through towards a cave, or something else, dizzily Michael wondered if maybe it was the mouth of hell itself. Maybe he'd had enough to drink tonight.

"Coming, Mikey?" Marko slapped him on the back, the last of the boys to skip towards the stairs. David was already at the top, staring down at him. A spiky-haired shepherd in black overlooking his field of sand and rock.

For a fleeting moment, Michael had the odd feeling that maybe...just maybe going up there wasn't such a smart idea. Still, he'd come this far, hadn't he? Besides, if he was really worried about these guys, he shouldn't have followed them in the first place, or just taken David at his word and threw back that funny wine like it was water. He shrugged, and skipped up after them, taking the steps two at a time to avoid the less...stable-looking ones. Really, there were a few that looked like they could crumble into dirt any second.

The moment they were inside Marko and Paul ran off, lighting a couple barrels to fully illuminate the room they now found themselves in. David spread his arms wide, showing off what could have been either the entrance to a mansion or a hotel lobby.

"Welcome, to the hottest hotel in Santa Carla." David grinned at him, "Well, at least it was back about 85 years ago. Built on a fault line, and when the big one hit...took a header right through the crack. It's home sweet home now." He moved further in, settling into a wheelchair and rocking back and forth slightly.

With all the rusted souvenirs of days gone by, the bedframes piled on top of old scraps, torn paintings lining tucked-away corners with little left but shreds of fabric and staring eyes, and oil drums glowing bright as Dwayne ceremoniously dropped flaming branches into each and every one to illuminate the dark...Michael really didn't have much trouble believing the story.

Paul crouched beside David inspecting an old boombox propped up beside a trunk, and god only knew whether there was anything in it, while Marko and Dwayne took their seats on a beat-up couch. Michael glanced around, settling on a dried-out water fountain, packed with beach shop trinkets and a shattered chandelier. His eyes roamed over towards a large poster of Jim Morrison staring back at them all from his perch at the back of the lobby.

"I guess it's cozy," he finally remarked, not really sure what to say. He wouldn't mention that funky smell. Must. Dust. Salt. Maybe even death...he didn't doubt there were a thousand rat carcasses hidden in the wreckage they couldn't get to. It wasn't the Ritz.

"It isn't much, been fixing up bits and pieces over the years, you should have seen it when we started." The boys all laughed as if they were in on some kind of joke, "It was much, much worse." He paused, "It's home though, have a couple rooms in the back fixed up."

In the back? Michael looked around, noting a few spider cracks along the walls here and there, and maybe an opening you could fit through if you crawled...even a place near the ceiling you could probably even climb through, but the idea that beyond there was anything but dirt and collapsed pits was pretty hard to believe. "You guys must be pretty handy," he said slowly, wondering if maybe they were just fucking with him right now. Probably.

"We'll have to show you some time but tonight, tonight is for relaxing, enjoying some wine." As he spoke he motioned to Marko, "Go grab us a bottle." He ordered.

Marko grinned, hopping to his feet readily enough and skipping off. Michael ran a hand through his hair, relaxing a little more just as Paul gave a loud cackle and slipped a tape into the boom box. Screeching hair metal bounced on the lobby walls, completely at home in their wild setting. He could get used to this.

Now that the adrenaline rush from the ride was fading, it was a lot easier to reclaim the buzz from the wine he'd had earlier, and he was actively craving even more. Fuck it, there was plenty of summer left, plenty of time to have a little fun and party. Forget about the move, the divorce, everything he'd left behind in Phoenix, his douchebag of a father and the money problems they'd had to dive headfirst into when mom settled for nothing but her car, the clothes on her back, and her two sons. He'd find a job tomorrow.

Marko made record time, the metal on his jacket and pants hailing his arrival with their echoing song melding into Paul's screaming stereo. David took the bottle, taking a deep drink before beginning to pass it around.

"Hey, Mikey, wanna get your ear pierced?" Marko asked with a grin, offering him the bottle.

He'd been thinking about it when he first saw Star, thought it'd get her attention...Michael took the bottle, throwing back a quick swig without even thinking. Seemed like the candles and oil barrel fires were so much brighter now. He closed his eyes, partially to shield himself from the light, and partially to help him savor the wine. "Yeah…sure..." he finally replied, only half-aware of what the question had been.

"We can do it for ya, who do you want to jab it in?" Marko prompted, watching him take another drink.

Paul nearly tripped over himself, hopping up to sling an arm around Marko, "I'll do it," he volunteered, snickering as he held his hand up. Michael frowned at him, rubbing his eyes a few times. He could swear...just for a second...Paul had claws...but he didn't.

"Uh...I guess whoever," Michael replied, quickly adding, "but not Paul." The guy looked like he'd probably rip his whole fucking ear off, as psycho as his grin was right now.

David stood, "I'll do it." He thumped Paul on the back of the head as he went by. Paul laughed, stumbling to the side and pretending to cower, hooking his arm still stubbornly around Marko's shoulder to drag him away.

Michael took one more quick slug of wine, setting the bottle down beside him on the lip of the fountain. When he looked back up at David, it was a little harder to focus. The candle light had gotten even brighter...and his teeth...were they always that sharp? He squinted, debating whether or not to ease back on the drinking.

"Grandma, what big teeth you have," Michael remarked dryly, as stupid as the joke sounded once he'd said it.

David chuckled softly, sitting beside him and pulling his head down to his lap, bearing his ear, "Close your eyes and relax." His voice was soothing, almost hypnotic in its cadence. Like the wine itself, Michael felt himself sinking into the wave of calm David's voice seemed to evoke. Not for a second did any of this seem weird. Maybe he was too far gone to tell. The earring didn't even hurt as it slid in, "Done."

He sat up slowly, careful not to make the blood rush to his head, "that's it?" His hand flew to his ear of its own accord, fingers wrapping around the cold piece of metal embedded there, one solitary drop of warm blood slipping through and wetting his skin. For one weird, impulsive moment, he was almost tempted to bring it to his lips, but he caught himself just in time and wrinkled his nose in self-disgust, wiping his hand off on the stone fountain lip just as the bottle was pushed back into his other. He could easily get hooked on this stuff.

"Party all night," Dwayne remarked, and vaguely Michael heard the metal snapping and fizzing sound of a beer can being cracked open.

He thought Paul was just talking shit when he added on with a cackle, "live forever, Mikey."


Paul and his fat mouth. This was a long con, they couldn't let Michael know what was happening just yet. He had the aforementioned man slung over his shoulder, carrying him back to his house to sleep off his first dose of David's blood. Good thing Max left another stupid little note tonight for them with the Emerson's address, among a few other pointless details David hadn't bothered to read more than once...and of course a warning about the drycleaning 'accident'.

These first few nights would be the worst and they had to make sure it went as smoothly as possible.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" David hissed, shifting the unconscious teen on his shoulder.

"He's not gonna remember much, I was just having a little fun," Paul defended, trying to get a grin of agreement from Marko, and looking over to find he was on his own on this one. Marko was too busy examining his nails far more closely than he needed to, and Dwayne was the lucky one who got to ride Michael's bike home.

"We can't risk fucking this up, he can't know what's going on. Do you want one of those little fucktards who know we exist to find out?" He growled softly, moving up to the window, "Marko, get the window, and don't break it."

"The dorks with the Rambo hard-ons? They couldn't stake a ken doll if you shoved it up their asses." Paul snorted, not offering to help when Marko latched onto Michael's windows and scrambled to get his claws gently under the edge of the sill without breaking the glass or his nails.

"They're incompetent idiots but even the stupid can get lucky. Now get over there and help instead of floating there like a half-wit."

"Why don't we just leave him on the lawn?" Paul bitched, sidling up beside Marko to gingerly pull at the window. Lucky for them it wasn't locked. "How do we even know this is the right room?"

Marko peered in through the glass, "I think we're lucky...doubt the other one has a weight set…"

David froze as Michael stirred slightly, "Fuck, hurry up." He hissed, running his fingers through Michael's hair, urging him back to sleep. He got lucky. Then again, they'd made sure he went through the whole bottle back at the hotel to keep him out for a good few hours.

The window flew up with a loud 'CRASH!'

The glass, somehow, remained intact…

"Oops…" Marko whispered, crawling through the opening and managing to knock over a bunch of shit on the desk in front of it, including a trophy that thunked on the ground loud enough to wake the whole house. "Sorry!" He exclaimed, trying to recover and scoop everything back up.

Paul was next, and true to form, made an even bigger mess than Marko. Across the hall, they heard barking. "FUCK, THEY'VE GOT A DOG!" Marko slapped a hand over Paul's mouth.

David moved quickly, somehow managing to get Michael onto the bed without waking him up while Marko and Paul scrambled to fix the things they'd knocked over.

"Let's go, he'll think he knocked it over while he was drunk." David hissed.

"Mike?" There was a gentle knock at the bedroom door, and fuck they were lucky it was closed. If David had to do something about the brat, Michael probably wouldn't be too hot on joining them.

Marko scrambled to try and help David get the halfling through the window, knocking over yet another piece of junk. This time it was a phone, the dial tone obnoxiously blaring as it hit the ground.

By some miracle, they actually managed to toss Michael onto his bed and Paul was just barely getting his foot through the window and dodging to the side of the house when Sam pushed open the bedroom door to catch sight of his brother sprawled on the mattress.

"Jeeze, Mike," he yawned, leaning down to stroke his dog's head and simultaneously keep the thing from tearing into the bedroom, likely intent on jumping through the window. A husky. "You're gonna get it in the morning when I tell mom about this…" he shook his head, closing the door behind him.

"Paul, you're grounded." David stated firmly, glaring at him.

"What did I do?" Paul asked with a legitimately confused expression, even as he reached out to quickly shut the open window before Michael somehow woke up to notice it. "...and I'm over 80, you can't ground me!"

The sound of a revving engine caught their attention below as Dwayne pulled up alongside the house, leaving the bike parked close to the front porch.

"You know why, don't make me explain it to you again." He slid down to the ground, "Let's go, now."

Without another word, Paul joined him, Marko silently on his heels to avoid any kind of punishment of his own. He wasn't quite as bad, at least he knew when not to push David's buttons. This whole thing tonight was a first for all of them. Since they'd been turned at about the same time, they really didn't know much or remember exactly how to guide another member into their fold. Star and Laddie didn't really count, either, especially since their blood came from Max. Nor, really, did any of the others their 'master' seemed to be inclined to try to induct. All long gone. All failed experiments.

Dwayne eyed them all once they'd landed, crossing his arms, "David, you need to feed." He'd given a lot of his blood tonight, and they all knew it. That probably accounted for his waning patience with Paul's antics, too.

David growled softly, "Fine, watch Paul, the asshole is grounded." He bit out before moving toward town, "I'm going to find dinner."

"What does that even mean?!" Paul shouted after him, while Dwayne just rolled his eyes and cuffed him in the back of the head.

There wasn't a lot of time before sunrise, so David didn't have much time to be picky either. Not if he didn't want to get fried. He'd had a few run-ins with late nights and early mornings before, so he knew pretty damn well what a bitch even a 2 second suntan could be. The longest he'd seen anyone last was about 5, when Max's last attempt at expanding the family failed miserably. Twenty years, and sometimes David could still smell the burnt hair at the lobby door. What kind of idiot thought it was a good idea to watch the sunrise within the same damn hour he'd made his first kill?

He shook his head, he needed to get this done. Luckily there was a drifter under the pier, easy pickings and close enough that he could manage to get home before sunrise. His meal was bittersweet, he would much rather be dealing with Michael than eating some no name loser under a bridge. He was excited, tempted to speed things along with his first fledgling. It probably wouldn't be too hard to give him a push if he tried. He'd seen Michael fight. Hell, he'd been the one who'd put those punks into a trance to start the fight in the first place. It wouldn't take much to force his hand but that would drive him away and he refused to take the easy route. He wanted his loyalty and the only way to get that would be to make this last and build things up, show him the reality of the world, of what he was now. What he could be. What he would be.

The sea foam turned pink as the shore rose to claim the remains of his meal. Just another body. Just another number to add to Santa Carla's record.


Boys will be boys. A mantra Max had forced himself to patiently repeat to himself every night his children decided to misbehave. Some day they'd learn to act, sooner than later now that he'd found them a mother. His plans to ask Lucy to dinner tonight, though, were ruined. How could he leave the children in his house alone, after all, when they still hadn't had their first proper meal yet?

"Now, dinner's in the basement, I expect both of you to eat while I'm gone. I won't be long, just have a few things I need to take care of." He wasn't especially fond of leaving Thorn alone with anyone but himself, given the hellhound's fierce and sometimes misguided loyalty, but it would be for the best.

Star kept Laddie tucked close to her on the pristine white couch, the one he hoped they didn't drink on, watching him with her big, fearful eyes. Bullied mercilessly by her brothers, no doubt.

"Thorn will be here, you'll be perfectly safe. I will be sure to have a stern talking to with your brothers."

She lowered her head with trembling lips, "they're not our brothers. You're not our father." Teenage rebellion could be so very tiring. This sort of backtalk would not be tolerated. He'd already let the boys go too far with their own behavior. There were going to be some changes soon, and he'd start with making an example of David.

He froze for a moment, "Star, I know this must be difficult for you but that is no excuse for disrespect."

She remained quiet, turning her head to the side as if to end the conversation before it could even begin, on her own terms. Laddie simply watched him, staring with a sort of expectant tension belying his age. He would be very good at hunting. Shouldn't have any trouble at all luring meals in to share with his mother. Lucy would be far too soft in the beginning to do her own hunting, and she'd need Laddie as a distraction. Then, of course, Sam was young enough too to be a good companion for the little boy.

He quickly buttoned his sleeve cuffs, examining nothing in particular in his living room mirror as he did so. Even a century or more having passed since he'd turned, it was still a force of habit when he dressed. No time to leave a note tonight, he'd have to make their visit personal after he closed the store. The boys were usually back by then, anyway. Then he could see how they were doing on their little task of inducting Lucy's sons. Disrespectful or not, Max knew David was a clever boy. He'd likely already be well on the way to befriending them by now. Perhaps he'd have bought a few comics for Samuel, or the boys had even played a game of baseball with Michael. Lucy said Michael liked baseball…

Maybe he should talk to David before he went into the store. Lucy would be fine on her own for an hour or so.