Author's notes: Crop circles, huh Falcon? Let me see what I can do...not this chapter. Maybe next. But I will do it.
In those eyes, Sam saw his death. Death by death breath, apparently, too, because the douche-bag was breathing right on his face and he could swear it was like an army of fish went to battle in the asshole's mouth before dying in glorious combat and rotting there for a week. It stank. Worse than he could ever have imagined. And it wasn't even the fear that was beginning to make him dizzy, it was the sheer terrifying odor.
"You have no idea who you just messed with," the vampire growled, though his fangs had not descended. They were surrounded by people, so it made sense.
Sam screwed up his face, taking a deep breath despite the horrible stench pervading the air around him, and did the only thing he could think of...he screamed.
"RAPE! SOMEBODY HELP! THIS GUY IS TRYING TO RAPE ME! I NEED AN ADULT!" Sam thrashed in the vampire's hold, and the grip on his shirt was immediately released as the creature stumbled back in shock and slight irritation, looking about him and ducking his head so he could push his sunglasses back up on the bridge of his nose. People were stopping to watch them now, and Sam began to re-adjust his shirt, covering his chest with a pained expression. Like Blanche Dubois, as if he'd been horribly and dramatically violated on the boardwalk in full view of everyone.
"This isn't over," the vampire growled, pointing a finger at him, before spinning about and stomping off through the crowd. Sam sighed, letting his head fall back on his shoulders as relief flooded him. He was safe. His neck was un-damaged. No harm done...and he even had an excuse to maybe avoid leaving the house at night to hang out with the Frogs for a couple of weeks. Or...maybe months. Years? Crap...what the hell had he just gotten himself into?!
"Sam!" Edgar shouted, rushing out of the comic ship and looking about, a string of garlic around his neck, and a crucifix in his hand. He waved it about like a gun, keeping an eye out for his friend. "Sam! Where are you?! Do you need backup?!" He continued, shoving past a group of girls who were giving him the strangest looks, before they leaned close together to giggle and point at him.
"I'm...I'm over here, Ed," Sam waved at the gruff Frog brother as he managed to get to his feet and dust off his clothes. Aw, man! The douchebag had ripped it! This was his favorite shirt!
"...Did you get bit?" Edgar asked warily, approaching Sam with the crucifix held aloft, trying to maintain as much distance as he could.
"No, Ed. I didn't." Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes.
"I need you to confirm. If you've been compromised, I can't just take your word for it. There's no telling what a bloodsucker can make a guy do once he gets his claws in someone. You could turn on your friends. Your family. And yeah...even your dog..."
Sam pulled his collar aside, turning his neck left and right. "See? No bites."
"...Okay," Edgar grunted, lowering his crucifix. "So, now that we've got a target...We're going to need to get you to point it out to us next time it shows up."
"What?! No! I'm getting the hell back home before it comes back!" Sam exclaimed. "I'm done, Ed. This is too much. You should've seen that thing's eyes! They were...they were crazy! Crazy eyes!" Sam waved his hands in front of his face, "crazy...evil...eyes!"
"...So what you're saying is...it had crazy eyes," Edgar nodded at Sam, crossing his arms while still angling his crucifix outwards to face anyone walking by, just in case one of them just so happened to be a vampire. If there was one nearby, it was very likely there had been more.
Sam nodded, idly scratching at his chest just under where his shirt had been torn. He pulled his fingers back and scowled at a few droplets of blood. That was way too close for comfort. Yeah. Definitely not going to play the hero again anytime soon.
Star didn't even listen to Marko's stupid question. Didn't hear it. She only heard and saw David. What sort of answer could she honestly have expected from someone like him, though? What did she want to hear? Of course she was a tool. Something he used like anything else. That was just what he did. But it wasn't enough. There had to be more. A lot more. And the fact that he wouldn't even explain the rest of it, explain all of the torture and the mind games, or why he couldn't have just gone out and picked some other girl who was just as good (if not better) at luring boys out to the beach alone so they could have easy meals...it was infuriating. He was lying. He was the father of liars.
The monster inside her was conflicted. It wanted something to eat. It wanted to tear and bite and shred whatever it could get it's hands on. It wanted to paint her nails with blood. And it told her attacking her 'master' was a stupid idea. His wouldn't be nearly as satisfying as a human throat. But more then that...it told her to listen to him. Obey. Do what he wanted, and everything else would fall into place. Frankly, Star didn't much like that voice, and even more than her anger at David, her anger at the voice made her want to attack him even more. So, for once, Star was the first one to lose her temper while Michael got to stare in shock as she leaned forward and spat directly in David's face.
The first one to react was Michael, with an intake of breath as he prepared to leap over the table and protect her if David lost his cool. Looks were exchanged between the boys, however, and Marko settled a clawed hand on the back of the boy's neck, idly dragging his thumb across the skin in warning. Then, he leaned towards Michael's ear with a very pleasant smile, and whispered to him.
"Easy, there. Don't want to make a scene, huh? Unless you want to kill all these people?" He swept his free hand in a circle to indicate the uncomfortable, but pleasantly unaware patrons at the diner. And, while Michael had certainly lost a measure of the part of himself who actually cared about the lives of human beings, he still had enough of a conscience left over to remind him it was something...well, it was something he wouldn't have wanted to have happen a little less than twenty-four hours ago, when he was still one of them. He recalled the desperate pleas from Star not to forget their last hours in the daylight, and wondered if perhaps she also meant their humanity as well. So he forced himself to slump in his seat and let his breath out. If David did hurt Star, there was no chance the other people in the diner would live anyway. So maybe...maybe he'd wait until later to do anything to her. Or maybe he'd just let it go.
David very calmly reached towards the napkin dispenser on the table and yanked a few napkins out of it to wipe the spit from his cheek, smiling all the while with his eyes locked on Star's. And she certainly looked like she regretted what she'd done, if the look of fear in her eyes was anything to go by. But she was looking at him still, and not down at her lap, like she used to. So, points to her for growing a backbone, but he definitely wasn't going to let this slide.
"I'd hoped we could all finish this conversation without any outbursts," David sighed, crumpling up the napkins and tossing them down to the table. "So I'm not going to do anything now. I imagine you've both still got a lot of questions. So. Ask away. When we're done, Star, I think I'll take you on your first hunt. Alone."
"No. You won't." Michael told him, eyes narrowed, and he hissed slightly when he felt Marko's claws dig in just a little deeper on his neck, drawing a line of blood to drip down the back of his shirt collar.
"It's okay, Michael. I'm a big girl." Star looked towards him, smiling faintly. They were both stuck, anyway. She didn't want him to get hurt just because she'd done something stupid. And besides, whatever David ultimately ended up doing...it felt good to spit at him. Despite the fact that she already had serious regrets about it.
"So, what else do you want to know, hm? I think we've got a little more time before we have to go hunting. Make it quick, though. Trust me, you don't want to know what it feels like when you wait too long to eat." David took another sip of coffee and relaxed in his seat, tapping the fingers of his free hand on the table to the rhythm of 'Running Bear' as it played on the radio in the back kitchen, just loud enough for them all to hear.
Michael scooped up the torn shreds of the napkin he'd been working on, and crumpled them together in a ball to drop into his drink. He never wanted to see another cup of coffee again. And Marko finally released his neck to reach over and snatch up a fresh napkin to hand to the brunette. Michael glared at him, but took it and dabbed at the scratch that had been left above his shirt collar. The skin had already healed, but it was a bit of a mess.
"Okay," Michael leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling, frowning as he tried to figure out how to phrase his question. Clearly, David was going to answer it however he wanted unless they were specific. Like a fucking genie with a bad sense of humor. "You wanted me because of a bike race. You wanted Star because she was good bait. I get it. But you spent two years chasing us. Two years. There's no way you assholes would have bothered, if there wasn't something more to it. Unless that's just how you get your rocks off."
Paul cackled, getting a strange look from the waitress as she came back to the table to top up David's coffee cup and completely refill Dwayne's. The quiet member of their group had downed the first one in less than three gulps. He nodded to her politely, and as she turned about, Paul couldn't help himself...he gave her a good goose.
The older woman's spine stiffened, and she spun about with her half-empty coffee pot, lips pressed firmly together, glaring down at him.
"Darlin', I don't want to have to tell you twice. Because if I have to, I will be breaking this here pot over your head the next time you try it. Keep your hands to yourself. I don't work thirteen hour shifts five days of the week just so a little boy with a pencil penis can try to put the move on me, you understand?" She demanded, putting a hand on her hip.
Paul was stunned into silence. Marko and Dwayne just shook their heads, laughing.
"Sorry about that. Paul, you're doubling your tip." David looked at Paul with a very patient smile, and the younger vampire scowled at him, before nodding up to the waitress.
"Sorry. Couldn't help myself." He held up his hands, having slung one arm over the back of the booth seat, just barely close enough to be around Star's shoulders.
"Yeah, well be sure you try a bit harder." She sniffed, marching off. If they were anywhere else, she might have been dinner, too. But...maybe not. Paul kinda liked her a little bit more now.
"You see, that's why ya gotta try riding an older model once in awhile, y'know what I mean?" He waggled his eyebrows.
"You're a pig." Star mumbled, taking a sip of her own coffee to calm her nerves. She was still pretty much focused on what David had planned for their 'solo hunt' soon. The more she thought about it, the more terrible the images in her mind she managed to conjure. She was a vampire now...not nearly so delicate as a human being anymore. So...the options he had were a lot more violent.
"In answer to your question, Michael," David turned back towards the boy, their little issue with the waitress forgotten, "I like a challenge." And that was all he was going to say, as he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of bills, giving Paul a look before the other vampire scoffed and pulled out his own money.
"This is bullshit," he complained loudly, slapping down a hefty tip. "You don't just walk around with an ass like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself. It's criminal. It's...it's insane."
"It's fat. And it's got cellulite. And it's probably wrinkled." Marko snorted.
"Character. It's got character," Dwayne supplied, laughing lightly. They were in a good mood. A better mood than they'd really been in since they left Santa Carla. Because finally...finally, they were all going home.