((Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay. Things got real busy out in the real world. I hope you like this chapter! Lots of questions asked, very few answered. Don't worry, the wait will be worth it! If you like, you can also follow me on .com for extra stuff! As always, your comments and reviews feed my soul!))

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The sky became a violent sea of dark clouds, the wind blew hard and tore like a knife, and the rain fell in sheets so thick you could barely see your hand before your face. If the sun still burned bright out in the vastness of space, you would never know it standing on the streets of Santa Carla. Umbrellas did little to protect the humans huddled underneath them, often turning inside out as the winds tried to carry them away. It wasn't a day that any sane person would spend on the pier. The lights were off, save for a few streetlights dotted here and there. Tarps were hung over delicate machinery while the rest of the structures were left to fend for themselves. What little foot traffic there was in the city itself was mostly people running from storefront to storefront, trying to avoid the icy barrage until they reached their car or their destination. All the clocks read 10 am, but if you asked anyone hurrying by, they would probably say that it was much, much later. Most businesses remained closed, with only the most necessary of stores dragging their employees out to man the cash registers. While it most definitely wasn't a hurricane, the people of Santa Carla weren't taking any chances today. Those who could stayed home.

Mae really should have stayed home.

In retrospect, that urgent trip to the grocery store could have waited another day. The weatherman said this storm system would pass by noon tomorrow, having cleansed the land and skies with brutal efficiency in a little over 24 hours. Yesterday, he'd said that the rain would pass them by completely. Mae was learning not to trust the weatherman. She shouldered her grocery bag a little higher, the empty canvas half-soaked after a rather nasty encounter with a passing car and a large puddle. Even though it rained in Santa Carla more than other places in California, the residents still drove like they'd never seen so much as a sprinkle before. If Mae didn't end up ripped to shreds by psycho vampires, she'd probably get run over by a soccer mom. She was halfway to the grocery store, her raincoat and boots failing in their sole purpose of keeping her dry and warm. Next time, she'd just send one of the boys. Maybe Paul. Just seeing his hair all wet and bedraggled would be worth the epic amount of booze she'd owe him.

A small laugh escaped her as she crossed the street, passing through one of the many dilapidated parts of town. Rumor had it that the city council was planning on gentrifying the city a little bit, to make it compete with San Francisco. Good luck with that. People came here for the pier and the beach; they could care less what the suburbs looked like. The Blockbuster was shuttered, a sign haphazardly taped to the door with its ink running in pools of sickly red and blue, telling its customers that they would be open tomorrow if the weather improved. Mae groaned when a blast of wind blew a spray of water onto her face. She scrubbed at her eyes, grumbling about weathermen and fucking raincloud. At least it was just a few more blocks until the grocery store. Damn the bus for picking the worst places to stop. It was like someone had deliberately decided to make things difficult for anyone who didn't want to go directly to the goddamn pier and spend all their money on shitty rides and rigged games. Ugh.

Five days of agonized waiting had passed since Mae's encounter with Old Widow Johnson. Five days of looking over her shoulder whenever she was on the pier, eyes constantly searching for a shock of silver-white hair, any hint of an extravagant shoulder padded suit, or the scent of decay and gardenias. Nothing had happened so far, but Mae had a feeling that they weren't in the clear yet. Her psycho stalkers hadn't shown up either, but that was probably due to the presence of her brothers. Dwayne was practically glued to her side, never leaving her alone. If Mae needed the bathroom, she had a tall, dark escort to the nearest single-person room with a lock, helpfully located on the other side of the pier in a fucking burger joint. He'd stand guard outside, which was nice in some ways and weird in others. Oh, well. She'd rather not die, so she'd live with the embarrassment.

Paul had been there every night too, his usual cheer somewhat diminished in light of his hypnotic adventure. She'd been trying to set him up with the redhead at the t-shirt booth across the way, but he wasn't feeling it, so Mae was keeping her eye out for anyone who he could have a good night out with. Maybe it wasn't the best coping mechanism, but it was the best she could do. David was always nearby, in and out of the shadows with Marko always hot on his heels. They seemed to be watching the perimeters, looking for danger before it got too close. More than once, Mae had spotted the hem of a long black coat vanishing around a corner or a familiar head of curls disappearing out of the corner of her eye. They rarely stopped by the actual booth, although Marko always made sure to be there at closing time, taking over for Paul if the youngest wanted to go buy booze. Even if Paul stayed with them, Marko still came, his arm always slung around Mae's waist as they headed back to their bikes. Someone, usually Paul (but sometimes Dwayne) would make a snarky comment about Marko finally being tamed once they got home, which would always end in a fight. Mae and David were secretly betting on how long it would be before the jokes got old and they had a final showdown, which would inevitably end in a new set of bloodstains on the carpet. David was probably going to win, the smug asshole.

Even with those little moments of levity, things were tense, to say the least. Mae had trouble sleeping, barely getting any rest before the sun rose. She slept better when it was bright out, even though it was impossible for her enemies to get into the house no matter what time of day it was. Yesterday, she'd spent the day in the boys' room, curled up between Marko and Dwayne as everyone slept. For the first time in ages, she felt fully rested, so she'd decided to go out and finally do her errands while the sun was up. Granted, the clouds were covering the sky in a blanket so thick it made the morning seem like midnight, but David had assured her that a vampire would still go up in flames if he set foot outside. Feeling as safe as she could in a world where vampires weren't the only people to be afraid of, Mae had shouldered her bag and gone to market, feeling stupider and stupider the further she got from home. It was only sheer stubbornness that had stopped her from turning around…that, and the fact that Dwayne had finished off the last of her cereal.

As her foot touched down on the sidewalk outside the grocery store, she felt a sudden tingling down her spine. Eyes were on her, but where were they? Trying to act casual, Mae leaned against the stucco wall, pretending to shake the water off her boots. Just as she was about to turn around, a set of arms wrapped around her middle, a hand jamming itself over her mouth and nose. Her scream was lost to the rushing of the wind and the pounding of the rain. As she inhaled to scream again and try to fight her way out, her nose stung with the overpowering scent of chemicals. Shit. Chloroform. Her panic only made her breathe faster, drawing more and more of the chemical cocktail into her lungs. She had seconds before she passed out. Her eyes scanned the road for help, but there was no one out, and the store had no customers and no outside cameras. She was alone. With the last of her strength, she bit down hard, her teeth sinking through cloth and skin, or so she hoped. Mae felt her consciousness slip away, her umbrella clattering to the ground in series of muted echoes. Black crept into the edges of her vision as her body went limp.

The last thing she saw before she passed out was the cloudy sky, an anemic ray of sunlight peeking through, only to be swallowed up once more by the ominous storm.

It wasn't unusual these days for the house to be quiet when the boys woke up. Once, not so long ago, their rising would have been met with curse-laden complaints about the state of the laundry room or the pounding of an old stereo set to deafening levels. Now, their sister was much more subdued, her troubles dampening her spirit. Even though their family ties were strong, the boys had no idea how to deal with such a thing. Their afterlives were filled with nothing but joy and hedonism (at least, until the incident), and even after their second deaths, they preferred to scream and slash at whatever tried to tear them down. Holing up and hiding wasn't in their nature, not when the threat was so easily taken care of. Still, Mae was human, and humans reacted differently to such things. For her, they would be patient, focusing more on her protection than satisfying their need for a fight. David had finally had an idea last night, and he was going to call a family meeting to work things out. They would take care of the rogues, kill the Widow, and finally stake their claim on Santa Carla once and for all. No one fucked with their family. No one.

Of course, things never happened easily for any of them. Upon waking, they knew something was wrong. The silence of the house was always punctuated with two constant, almost comforting sounds: Mae's heartbeat, and the running of the washing machine. Neither could be heard, no matter how hard they strained to hear it. Mae was always home before sundown, not only for her safety, but also out of habit. Not once since they'd met had she been outside when they woke up. Never. Dwayne was the first out, the others still trying to pick up any sound they could. He charged through the house, exploring every nook and cranny. The others spread out, looking for any sign of their missing sister. The door was still locked and the windows were unbroken. No one had entered since Mae had gone to get the groceries, including Mae herself. A mortal hadn't stolen her from the house. That left only one conclusion: Mae had been taken somewhere beyond their safe haven, somewhere in town. They silently convened in the living room, the sky still tinted blue as the moon began to rise. David leaned against the wall, his shoulders tense. Paul was pacing, his hair even more ruffled than usual. Dwayne and Marko were practically vibrating out of their skin, wanting nothing more than to tear out of the house that instant. It was only out of respect for David that they stayed. Their leader wouldn't have them waiting without a reason to.

"…Marko. You found no trace of her?" His voice was calm, but they knew him well enough to read the unease in his posture.

"None. Her scent is several hours old. The house hasn't been opened since morning." Marko's hand twitched. "There's footprints in the mud outside leading away from the house, but none coming back. She never made it home."

"If she was kidnapped, a mortal had to have done it. She would've been home well before sunset otherwise. That means we can track them. Paul, your eyes are the best. You lead out. Dwayne, guard the rear. Move it!" He hadn't even finished his command before the others were tearing out of the house, running for their bikes. Flying would be faster, but if they were going to be searching for humans, it was best to blend in.

The rain was still pouring down, obscuring anything more than five feet ahead of them. Even with their enhanced sight, it was difficult to make anything out. Paul followed the footprints to the edge of the dirt road. There was only one set of tracks, so Mae hadn't been taken there. With a signal to his brothers behind him, he set off towards town, following a gut instinct. There was always the possibility that nothing evil had happened to their sister, and she was just laid up at the hospital with a broken ankle or something, but knowing their luck, their worst fears were correct. For the first time in his second life, Paul cursed the weaknesses being a vampire gave him. He'd give anything to be able to walk in the sun once more if it meant being able to protect his family at all times, not just when the sky was black. As the buildings began getting closer together, the boys went two by two, with David and Paul at the front. They took the same path the bus always did, looking and smelling for anything that could help them find their sister. Luckily for them, most of the mortal residents of Santa Carla were still huddled up inside, leaving the streets blessedly empty.

It was Dwayne who spotted the umbrella. David had been about to call a halt when Dwayne shouted at them all to stop, the brunet braking so fast that he nearly ran into a wall. He hopped off his bike and scanned the area, but there was no sign of human life to be found. The store's fluorescent sign gave off a static buzz over the pouring rain, blocking his hearing. All he could smell was wet asphalt, gas fumes from their bikes, and old garbage further down the alley. No trace of their sister remained. Paul picked up the umbrella, sniffing at it.

"Smells terrible. Something chemical-y. I can't place it, though." He handed the object off to David, who examined it carefully before holding it up to his nose.

"Chloroform. Enough to knock a human right out." David hissed. "Someone had this planned out. Marko, Paul, search the alleyway. Scent for this." He tossed the umbrella to Marko, who gagged at the odor.

"Gotcha." Marko and Paul took off, trying to pick up anything from the rain-washed concrete and stucco.

"Dwayne, check across the street. See if there's anything down the other alley. I'll-"

"David!" Paul shouted, drawing the two out of their conversation. Marko was as still as a statue besides Paul, his silence putting David on edge; he was only ever so quiet when he was about to commit the most brutal of murders.

In a split second, David and Dwayne were by their sides, Paul pointing to the source of Marko's fury: Mae's canvas bag, a message painted in faded black marker, the ink half-destroyed by the downpour. The second Dwayne saw what was crudely scrawled on the canvas, his eyes went yellow and his fangs went down. In a split second, Paul had Dwayne pinned to the wall, using all of his strength to keep him there. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his brother broke free; Dwayne was the strongest of them all, and when he was on a rampage, nothing could stop him. His protective instincts made him a fearsome opponent, but it also clouded his judgment. David bent down and picked the bag up, reading it over before handing it off to Marko, who looked like he was torn between viciously tearing it apart and desperately clinging to it.

"'Went shopping. Picked up dinner. Want the leftovers?'" David murmured, repeating the message. The taunt left him with precious little information, none of which he didn't already know. This was obviously the work of her vampiric stalkers, but how had they managed to get her during the daylight hours? A snarl from Dwayne distracted him. The brunet was fighting with Paul, resorting to cheap shots to try and break free from his brother's grip. David grabbed Dwayne's chin, forcing his brother to keep still. He forced Dwayne to look him in the eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was laden with the weight of a command.

"Dwayne, be still." He instantly went limp in Paul's arms, David's power forcing him to submit. When the anger had cleared from Dwayne's eyes, David spoke again. "Focus. We can't find her if you're thinking with your teeth and not your brain. The more time we waste trying to keep calm, the more time they have to kill her." He held Dwayne's gaze until his brother took a deep breath and nodded, the anger clearing from his face. Behind him, David heard the rustling of fabric on fabric.

"David?" Marko called, voice anxious.

"What?"

"There's blood on the bag! Right here, just below the last line." The other three bent over the bag, David snatching it back from Marko. There, dotting the bottom of the bag, were drips of blood. A few more could be seen dotting the surface of the bag, but most of them were covered by ink or diluted by the rain. David held it up to his nose, picking up the barest hint of a scent. He passed it over to Paul, who breathed as deeply as he could. In a flash, he'd thrown the bag back to David, taking off into the street, his eyes half-focused on where he was going. The others followed him, David stuffing the bag into his pocket in case they needed it. They ran faster than any human could ever dream to run, Paul in the lead as his brothers kept an eye out for danger. Even though the heavy rain covered the smell of blood, Paul could just faintly identify his target. If he'd only had the trail blood to go by, he would never have known where to go, since it had all washed away by now, but he knew who the blood came from. He knew the one who took his sister. They skidded to a halt outside a half-rotted old shack half a mile from the beach, hidden at the end of a street of vacant houses.

"This is Isaac's house. He's the meanest, ugliest bastard you ever saw, but he somehow always has coke and ecstasy on hand if you can pay for it. This is his hideout when he's in town." Paul explained, glaring at the door.

"Does he own it?" Marko asked, claws flexing as his face contorted into its monstrous form.

"Not at all." Paul grinned, shifting as well.

"Then let's get the bastard!" Dwayne growled.

"Hold it. Marko, see any traps?" David put a hand on Dwayne's arm, ready to hold him back if necessary.

"Not a thing. I can hear a heartbeat, but it's slow. Only one, though. Can't sense anyone else in there."

"…After you." David's smile was razor-sharp as he let Dwayne charge ahead, his lieutenant tearing down the door with one savage blow.

The brothers stormed in, ready for a fight. It was a sorry excuse for a building, looking more like someone's old tool shed than a house. A ratty pallet was set up in the far left corner, with a camping stove and a cheap flashlight next to it. The room was bare, with no sign of the source of the blood. It was pitch black inside, but the boys had no need for light. A few bags of drugs were strewn across the pallet, the scent of unwashed human invading their noses when Marko kicked the covers back. With a gagging noise, he turned back to the room. His brothers seemed to have caught onto something, so Marko bent down and grabbed the flashlight before joining the others.

They followed their noses to the far right corner, the wood creaking dangerously beneath their boots. Faintly, they could sense something beneath the floor, an irregularity in the sound the boards made when stepped on. Paul held up a hand, keeping the others back as he felt around for something on the floorboards. After a few seconds, there was the screech of rusty metal as Paul flipped a latch. Light flooded the hovel as Marko lit up the flashlight, pointing it at the ceiling so the light spread out across the room. Paul heaved the door open, ready to fight whatever was waiting for them down below.

They were met with more darkness. The overwhelming scent of blood assaulted their senses, making the hovel smell more like a slaughterhouse than a home. They looked down into the hidden basement, the thing barely more than a deep square carved into the dirt beneath the shack. Paul jumped inside, nearly slipping in the blood that slicked the floor. He froze, getting knocked aside by first Dwayne, then David as they both followed him down. It was only when Marko brought up the rear that he finally moved, leaning against the wall as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Dwayne cursed. David growled. Marko dropped the flashlight, the old plastic making no sound on the wet floor when it landed. Their eyes were fixated on what was on the far wall, the only sound the quiet buzz of the flashlight shorting out. It was a declaration of war, written in dried blood:

"Run and hide, little boys. Mother's home."

And sitting underneath the challenge, her arms and legs bound tightly to the chair, was Mae, unconscious but alive…

…with the mutilated corpse of Isaac lying at her feet.