Hello! It's been quite a while since I've written anything for Lost Boys, but I've been feeling so nostalgic, that I thought I might turn what was supposed to be an old one shot into a longer story than I had intended. I really miss writing for this crowd, and I hope to see some of the old readers again. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review!

XxXxXxX

High up in my perch, silent and unseen, I stared down at the unfamiliar dark haired vamp who was feasting unceremoniously on a lost hiker he had managed to snag before the sun came up. The slick sound of his lips smacking, tongue flicking and teeth tearing into human flesh only intensified my irritable mood and my immediate dislike for the stranger.

This idiot, this encroacher on our territory, had managed to leave a trail of corpses all over the mountain, attracting attention from authorities and driving away tourists and campers who so often visited our mountain. Our hunting grounds were now compromised thanks to him, and if I didn't take care of him now, Marko and I would have to split town once more before we were

discovered.

I floated down from my tree branch and landed silently behind him before letting out a feral snarl to alert him of my presence. "Are you new to the whole vampire thing or are you just plain stupid?"

He whipped around to face me, fangs bared and slick with blood. With a growl he narrowed his demonic yellow eyes and strengthened his stance to prepare for a fight. "You want somethin' from me, slut?" He sneered, sloshing blood from his lips. "Or are you here to join me for dinner?"

"Tempting, but no." My lip curled in disdain. "I'm here to tell you to get the hell out before my mate gets ahold of you and tears your ass apart like tissue paper."

"Is she as big a dyke as you? 'Cause I'd love to show the both of you how much more satisfying a man's company can be." the stranger spat.

My lip curled in disgust as I rolled my eyes and shouted, "Oh for Christ sake- MARKO!"

The man arched a brow. "Huh...?"

"POLO!"

From the black of night, Marko launched himself at the stranger and tackled him to the damp ground with a yowl like a mountain lion. Though Marko was much smaller, he easily pinned him beneath his weight, but actually keeping him there was more of a challenge that he had hoped. Sensing he was in need, I rushed to his side and pressed my boot down on the stranger's throat.

"If I don't hear an apology in the next four seconds, I'm gonna rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands." Marko sneered.

The stranger gurgled and gasped for breath, wriggling under Marko's iron hold. "I- I'm sorry-"

Marko lightly smacked the stranger on the cheek as reprimand. "Not to me, you idiot. The lady."

The dark haired vamp's gaze found mine, his yellow eyes wide with both hate and fear. "Sorry, Red. Now call off your dog."

Satisfied, I lifted my boot from his throat and backed up a few paces. Marko did the same, but with some hesitance. We stood back and waited for the vampire to rise to his feet, still coughing from the damage I inflicted on his trachea.

"Thanks for the hospitality." He sneered, massaging his rapidly healing throat. "I'll be sure to let my buddy know we aren't welcome in this neck of the woods."

I felt Marko tense up beside me, apparently uncomfortable with the idea of there being more than one intruding vamp in our territory. "You're not alone, then?" He spoke.

"Yeah, the guy's pretty good. Been with him since I turned." replied the stranger, obviously referring to the transformation from human to vampire. "What's it to ya?"

"Just like to know who our neighbors are." I said eyeing him. "I don't see him now. Is he just as reckless as you, feeding left and right, or did he wise up and ditch your stupid ass before you get yourselves caught?"

"Hey fuck you, I'm new at this, alright? Cut a guy some slack."

"So where is he, then?" I demanded. "You gonna tell me, or do I have to make you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Cool your shit, Red, he's back in town gettin' the brakes replaced for his bike-" He paused and wiped a spot of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Whatever, man. I'm outta here."

The stranger turned and ran with a burst of supernatural speed, disappearing into the dark before Marko and I had a chance to interrogate him further. We stood there quietly for a moment, alone with a dead body that we would have to dispose of quickly before the sun rose.

"Jackass." Marko muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

I reached out and gently tugged on one of his perfect curls, watching it spring back into place upon its release. "He meant motorcycle, right?"

Marko stared at me quizzically. "What?"

"He said his friend was getting his bike repaired. I highly doubt he meant one with a wicker basket and bell tied to the front." I said, still playing with his hair.

"Yeah, probably. Why do you wanna know?"

"If push comes to shove, we gotta know all about our new friends. I believe a little reconnaissance is in order."

I leaned forward and kissed him firmly on the jaw. "Be back soon."

XxXxXxX

I took off towards town, flying most of the way until I came to a point where I knew I'd be noticed if I flew any further. After a few moments I came upon the mechanic's garage known as Gary's Gears, where Marko often got supplies for his own motorcycle, and waltzed on in like I owned the place.

The official storefront was manned by a greasy-looking man in a gray jumpsuit, who barely spared me a glance as I walked in. Apparently his Sports Illustrated was far more important to him than customer service.

"Excuse me, but has anyone come in here the last hour to have the brakes on his motorcycle repaired? I asked sweetly, hoping I had the right place. "See, my boyfriend left his wallet at home, and he forgot to tell me which garage he was going to, so I thought I'd try this one first."

The desk clerk sniffed and lowered his magazine. I spared a glance at his name tag, identifying him as Stan, manager of this establishment.

"Yeah, the only guy to come in with a bike today, I think. He's still in the back." He jerked his head at the swinging door to the left of us that led to the actual garage. "Go on back, If ya want, just don't touch anything."

I nodded. "Thank you very much."

I walked out into the large working space lined with shelves and benches reserved for tools and boxes of supplies. Noiselessly, I navigated around the cars sitting idly side by side until I found two men standing around the only motorcycle in the building.

One, the mechanic, was kneeling around the front wheel, fiddling with some part of the bike I couldn't be bothered to identify, while the other stood with his black-leather-clad back to me. His hair was so pale that in the light it almost appeared to be white, a shade so familiar I almost believed I knew him.

Suddenly I didn't care who he was, human or otherwise. I turned and quickly exited Gary's Gears, eager to hide from the apparition I'd just witnessed. I walked briskly through the store front, ignoring the clerk who kept calling after me as if he were suspicious of my abrupt departure.

Out of sight, I took off in a burst of speed straight home, fighting the tears I had held back for so long.

XxXxXxX

Stan's wary nature and dislike for women in general planted the idea that perhaps the red-headed girl was not who she seemed. Her story about the wallet was dubious at best, and the man's instincts told him to investigate further.

Stan ran to the back of the garage where Clive, the only other employee with a night shift was still working diligently on their current client's ride.

The client turned at the sound of Stan's approach and smiled at him passively.

Stan did not return the gesture. "Excuse me sir, but did your girlfriend come back here and talk to you?"

The man furrowed his fair brow ever so slightly in confusion, contorting his Aryan features. "I have a girlfriend? That's news to me. Is she cute?"

Clive only shrugged. "I didn't see anyone, man. Nobody came back here."

"Shit," Stan spat, "She'd better not have stolen anything."

"Well she didn't come back this far, so if she did, it would have been something closer to the exit." Clive deduced. "You could check inventory?"

Stan growled in frustration and stored of to do just what his co-worker suggested. "Damn ginger bitch. I know I've seen her in here before with that curly-headed punk."

The client bit back a smug smile, listening to the irate manager grumble and spew obscenities while unaware that he could hear every word.

Clive stood and stretched, tucking away a wrench into his jumpsuit pocket. "That ought to do it. Need anything else, Mister…?"

The blonde man grinned eerily and shook his head, his one dangling earring tinkled like a wind chime. "It's just David. Now, how much do I owe you again?"