((Hey everyone! Thanks for sticking with me! This chapter was tricky, but I think I got it. My sleep schedule's been freaking weird lately, so I've been slow with writing things. Hopefully things even out soon. If you like, come ask Mae and the Boys things on my tumblr: unchainmesister! You can send prompts too! As always, your comments are my drug. Be my supplier. Enable me. ENABLE MEEEE!))

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"As per vampire tradition, the witnesses may now claim whatever they wish from the bodies of the fallen."

Túlio had no need to raise his voice in the stunned silence following the vicious execution of Joaquin, leader of the rogue vampires. The audience that had gathered at the edge of the trees slowly moved forwards, eager to scavenge whatever they could from the remains of the rogues. Although Túlio had explained that this was a necessary part of the deal, Mae still found it utterly barbaric, but who was she to judge? She had just ordered the brutal murder of her foes, and this wasn't even close to the worst thing she'd ever done. So, with a last disgusted look at the bodies of her enemies, she followed her brothers back to their bikes, sliding onto Marko's bike first and waiting for her boyfriend get on behind her. When she caught his confused look, she raised an eyebrow, gesturing at his still-bleeding forehead.

"You're in no condition to drive this thing. Get on, babe. I've got this." She shot him a confident smile before revving the engine.

With a shrug, Marko hopped on behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist. Despite his actions to the contrary, everyone could see that Marko was exhausted. He'd sustained the most injuries and would need blood to heal. David tore off first, leading the others back towards their home. Túlio and the others had promised to burn the bodies as soon as the scavengers were done looting them, and he knew now that Mae's brother from the south was always true to his word. They were the only ones out driving this late, or early, if you wanted to be picky about such things. It was nearly two am, and while they still had plenty of time before sunrise, they were all bone tired. A quick wash and maybe a bit of a snack was all they'd be able to manage before falling asleep long before the sun rose. The ride home helped raise their spirits somewhat, the wild freedom of flying across the pavement on their bikes giving them another dose of adrenaline. They had won. Save for their mostly minor wounds, they were all in one piece. Their enemies were finally dead. Life was good.

Once they were all safely inside the house, they split up, but not before quietly touching hands or exchanging tired smiles. Friendly intimacy was nothing new to them, but the events of the night made everything feel a million times more powerful. They had come together as a unit, an unbreakable family that would not go without a fight, a fight they would win, so long as they had each other. David was proud of his brothers and sister. For the first time since Max's death, he truly felt like the king of Santa Carla. His brothers and sister had followed him and lived to tell the tale. He'd led them into war, into danger, and they had not only survived, but had made themselves a fearsome reputation while doing so. Anyone who dared to invade his territory would think twice now. Yes, he was king now. King forever.

Paul took the downstairs shower, his face bruised and his body scratched, but otherwise he was fine. A quick hunt before the night was over would solve any lingering injuries. Dwayne headed for the kitchen, snagging a beer as he waited for a bathroom to open up. Besides Marko, he had the most damage, having taken the brunt of two different attacks for his brothers and sister. Shallow gashes tore up his stomach and back, nearly ruining his jacket again. His jeans were a lost cause, and his face was covered in blood and dirt, although luckily none of the blood was his own. David had somehow managed to remain mostly pristine, his clothes torn and dirty, of course, but he had sustained no real injuries besides a few bruises here and there. It was a testament to his strength, certainly. He took the upstairs bathtub first. There were perks that came with being the leader, after all.

Mae took Marko's hand and led him upstairs, herding him towards her en suite bathroom. She closed the door to her room, locking it so Paul wouldn't pull anything (although she was sure that he would be too tired to do much more than grab a bite and fall dead asleep tonight). When she turned around, she saw Marko fiddling with the stereo, turning it on low, just loud enough for human ears to hear without straining, but still quiet enough not to disturb the whole house. Silence wasn't on the menu for the night, it seemed.

He wasn't too fond of Depeche Mode, but he wasn't in the mood to go digging around in her music collection right now. Marko felt his girlfriend's hands tug at his jacket, distracting him from his absent thoughts. She tugged off his jacket, tossing it aside. It was pretty messed up, the damage bad enough that he might have to toss it. Shit. He liked that jacket. Marko didn't realize that he'd spoken aloud until Mae sighed, picking the thing up and laying it over the back of a chair.

"I can see if I can fix it. I don't have a sewing machine, though, so I don't know how much I can do."

"It's not that important."

"It's important to you, love."

If Marko was caught off guard by the endearment, he said nothing about it. Mae didn't seem to notice that she'd done it, so he let it go, not wanting to deal with such heavy emotions at the moment. Instead, he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground as he toed out of his boots. It wasn't until he was down to his jeans that he noticed that his girlfriend hadn't moved. His eyes followed hers, looking down at his chest and stomach. He was covered in bruises, some an angry red, others a dark purple. A shallow wound slithered from his left him to his navel, the work of the jagged rocks littering the dirt field. That bastard must have thrown him harder than he thought if he'd sustained this much damage. A hand on his shoulder drew his gaze back up.

Mae nudged at Marko's shoulder until he turned around, baring his back to her concerned gaze. She hissed when she saw the bruising, the marks three times as bad as the ones on Marko's front. There were some small tears here and there, but nothing too drastic. His legs probably had some contusions as well, but this was all she could bear to look at. Add to that the large wound on Marko's forehead, and the blonde looked like he'd been put through the ringer a few too many times than was good for his health. Deep down, she knew that he'd heal easily if given enough time, but this was Marko, her boyfriend. Her…something more.

"You need blood." She whispered, her fingers gently tracing the welts along his right shoulder blade.

"Yeah. I'll go get some after I…"

"No. Take some of mine." Mae interrupted him, pulling her hand back as Marko turned around.

"Run that by me again?" Marko tilted his head, studying the woman before him. Neither his face nor his voice gave any hint to what he was feeling, but Mae could read his eyes: he was confused, but also very interested.

"Take some of my blood. I know you guys don't have to kill the people you drink from; it's just easier that way. No one to run and tell some half-crazy hunter where you are, but I'm not a hunter, and I'm not just any human. Take some of mine. That way you don't have to go out hunting in your condition." Mae's argument was sound, but Marko still pushed at the edges of it.

"You think I'm too weak to hunt for myself? What's next, you gonna go all Florence Nightingale on me?" Marko smile was cold, and he enjoyed the flush of anger on his girlfriend's face.

"I have better things to do than to sit by your bedside and wring my hands like some stupid romance novel heroine, babe. You wanna go out? Fine. Forget I said anything." She huffed, stepping over his clothes to head for the shower.

Marko grabbed her arm, wincing a little as he heard her bite back her groan of pain. He forgot that she'd sustained some damage too, although her clothes and jacket hid most of it. She had an ugly-looking black eye forming around her right eye, and the left side of her face was scratched up something ugly. Her jacket was mostly intact, but the left arm had shredded enough to show the raw skin beneath. The jeans she'd worn were old and thin, so it was no surprise that they'd torn as she'd skidded across the dirt, letting her knees and thighs get scraped up enough to be bleeding in places. Just like Marko, her pants probably hid some more bruising, and now that he was looking, she was favoring her right shoulder over her left.

Cursing himself, Marko sighed and brought Mae close, carefully draping his arms around her shoulders. He was a selfish bastard, that was for sure, and while Mae knew what she was getting into, that didn't mean that Marko had to be a complete asshole just for the sake of it. His hand carded through her hair, a satisfied grin gracing his lips when she finally relaxed against him.

"Let's get clean first, then we'll talk about it, okay?" He murmured, swaying her gently in time with the music. Marko felt her nod against his chest, her cheek warm against his collarbone.

"Good. Now come on, I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Mae's laugh felt like a victory.

It was all quite anticlimactic, Túlio thought as he watched the bodies disintegrate into grainy ash. These three had been a thorn in their sides for months, but they had died so easily. While five against three wasn't very fair odds, the Santa Carla vampires had been the ones with the worst handicap: Mae, a half-blood who was technically under the sway of the rogues. That they didn't use this power concerned him. When there was nothing left, he helped Casper kick some ash over the embers, pulling a clove cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a casual flick of his wrist. Something was off. He'd like to think that this was all over with, but something told him that he'd be back in Santa Carla before too long.

Tonight, he and his companions would rest in Mae's house before returning to L.A. first thing in the evening. Miguel needed him back as soon as possible to help finish off the last of the upstart gang lords. He trusted his maker with his life, but Miguel was acting rather out of sorts lately. His beloved leader was telling him nothing of his plans, and Túlio had not felt so alone in a very long time. Sure, he had his family, but he and Miguel shared a bond of brotherhood so strong that it transcended mere language. They'd been companions for half a millennia, and if fate served them well, they would be together for another half a millennia to come. It wasn't love, but it was something just as strong, a trust shared between two beings so old that very few remembered the world as it was when they were young. It was lonely not being able to know what was on his friend's mind. He had no reason to be suspicious of Miguel's actions, but Túlio hated to let his leader bear a burden alone. When he returned to Los Angeles, he would confront him about his silence. Yes, he would do it the minute he got home. For now, though, all that there was left to do was collect his brothers and sister, make sure they had left nothing behind, and leave this godforsaken cliff behind.

Down below, the waves crashed against the rocks, the screech of a startled sea bird the only other sound in the cold night air.

Warmth. It was a foreign concept to the undead, save when it was in quantities so large that it couldn't be ignored. Not that they really noticed that they were cold; no, only freshly turned vampires could notice the sudden drop in body temperature. Once you had a few years behind you, it was easy to forget that your blood flow was sluggish, your heart not even bothering to beat unless you forced it to, a feat so laborious that few ever tried it. Everything felt normal, even in the blistering cold. Cold became your friend when you died that glorious half death. Cold was familiar. Cold was normal. That made warmth a rare goddess worthy of chasing after. After the advent of showers and indoor plumbing, it was a common sight to find vampires using up all the hot water in the neighborhood just to bask in that glorious heat. Marko was one such vampire, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. There was something hedonistic about standing under the hot spray and let it soothe the chill that lived within his bones. Cooling down afterwards sucked, but that just made the next shower all the sweeter.

The moment he stepped under the spray, he felt infinitely better, the water washing away the aches and pains he'd sustained during the fight. A rush of air signaled the closing of the bathroom door, and the curtain slid along the rack as his girlfriend stepped in behind him, nudging him to the side so she could get her turn under the showerhead. Marko took the opportunity to examine Mae, cataloguing her bruises and wounds with a clinical eye. Nothing looked worthy of professional medical attention, although he would probably insist on it anyway. She was purely human again, but while being a half-vampire at the time of her injuries had probably saved her from a trip to the hospital, something might have carried over once the blood had left her system. He ran his hand down her back, resting it above her tailbone. It wasn't meant to be anything more than a casual touch, but he felt the atmosphere in the room change as his girlfriend paused, her back still to him.

Slowly, he pulled her back against his chest, careful of the bruises they both wore like war paint. He could feel the extra heat where her blood pooled just under her skin, the discolorations an ugly purple in the low light of the bathroom. Marko's hands rested on her hips, the two of them standing in silence for a moment as Marko let Mae have the lion's share of the warm water for now. Her arms rose up, guiding his head down to rest on her shoulder. The stereo could be faintly heard over the drumming water, but the two of them remained quiet. They didn't need words yet. Marko's hands travelled up and down her body, absently exploring curves and planes he was quickly learning to memorize. Their first time hadn't been that long ago, but already it felt like they'd been following this dance for years now. His cock stirred, the scent of her arousal perking his interest. Mae sighed contentedly, her eyes closing as she let him do as he pleased.

When Marko's hands slid over her stomach, she couldn't help but laugh, groaning when the sudden movement pulled at her aching muscles. Her boyfriend stopped, ever perceptive, just resting his palms over her bellybutton. Another groan left her lips as she tried to stretch the pain away, shrugging her shoulders a few times to try to loosen them up. She stopped when Marko slipped away, only to turn her around and push her to lean against the far wall, her back to him still. With a frown, she did as he directed, leaning against her arms and resting her head on her hands. The bathroom had warmed up enough that she wasn't cold, despite no longer being under the direct spray of the showerhead. She moaned quietly when Marko began massaging her shoulders, loosening the tension with a practiced ease. She bit her lip, smiling at his thoughtfulness. When everything was as relaxed as it was going to be, he tapped her hip, grinning when she turned to lean her back against the wall, smiling up at him dazedly.

"Damn. I didn't know I was that good, babe."

"Don't let it get to your head, baby. I just had a really shit night, and you'll do for now."

Their words might sound pointed, but they knew it was just a game. If they had really wanted to hurt each other, they could easily do so while never once resorting to violence. Trust was something neither of them gave often, but so far, this was turning out to be a worthwhile investment of that precious commodity. Marko took Mae's hand and pulled her against his chest, gasping quietly when she pressed against his cock. He licked his lips, pulling her into a deep, searing kiss. Their hands couldn't stay still, sliding over slick skin, never resting in one place for more than a second. He swallowed her sigh like fresh blood after days of starvation, his answering moan pouring down her throat in waves of liquid gold. Somewhere out there were their brothers, their guests, and the rest of the goddamn world, but here, in this moment, it was only them. Marko let himself go, devouring the moment with a hungry desire, the faint hint of Mae's own need brushing across the back of his mind.

Marko nearly groaned when Mae pulled back, gasping for air. Soon enough, the need for breath would be nonexistent, and he would hold her mouth tight against his for as long as he wanted. Until then, he settled for kissing down her neck, his tongue licking over her artery before moving to her collarbone, leaving a small, shallow bite on her skin. There, a mark that was wanted, not forced. There. She was his once more. Marko grinned when he felt Mae's hand tighten in his hair, tugging him up for yet another kiss, their bodies pressing together gracelessly in her haste. She silenced his laugh with her tongue, smacking at his side, barely missing a nasty bruise. He growled in response, pushing her against the cool wall. Her shivers went unnoticed by both of them as they fumbled like awkward teenagers, hands colliding and blocking each other in their hurry to get a deeper form of sensation. When her hand closed around the head of his cock, Marko moaned quietly, breaking the kiss and burying his face in her neck. His fingers teased her clit, his touch skilled but rushed.

"Fuck…!" Mae gasped, wincing when her head fell back and hit the tile wall.

Marko slid his hand under it, cushioning her as they started a clumsy rhythm, too worked up to care about technique or even making it last. They were both too bruised and shaken up to do it properly, orgasm the only thing on their minds. A soft whimpering drew Marko out of his pleasure-filled haze, and he managed to open his eyes in time to see Mae squeeze her eyes shut, her wet hair clinging to her face as she came, her muscles fluttering under his fingertips. He watched enraptured as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, her face contorting as she tried to keep quiet, her hand stilling on his cock as she fell into bliss.

It should have been weird, ugly even. She looked nothing like the porn stars Paul sometimes watched, and half the girls he'd fucked he didn't even bother to look at when they came, too busy getting ready to bite into their throats to pay attention to their expressions. Despite looking like she was being hurt, she still looked beautiful. Maybe it was the flush of pride that he'd done this to her that made Marko keep his eyes on her. Maybe it was something else. He had no time to analyze it; Mae's eyes fluttered open, and she sighed in contentment as she resumed her movements, trying to bring him over the edge as well.

"Come for me, baby…" She whispered, voice low, nearly lost in the steady drumming of the shower.

Marko bit his lip, closing his eyes again as he savored the sensations, absently noting how inexpert at this she was. She wasn't too rough, but it was obvious that she had no idea what she was doing. The thought of being able to teach her, to take away what was left of her innocence and make her the perfect lover made him shiver in delight. He pictured her lying beneath him, sweaty and warm, her chest heaving for air. Her lips were parted, her voice mewling as he whispered filthy things to her, cataloguing what delighted her and what made her shy away from him. Marko forced his eyes open as he reached the edge, watching her watching him as he fell over the edge, his cum painting her hand and her hip. It took all of his willpower to keep from sinking his teeth into her neck, his hips rocking into her hand as she held still, unsure whether she should keep stroking him through it or leave things be. He preferred to be carried through his entire peak, but that was a talk for another day. Their lips mashed together, both of them loose and spent. The kiss was short-lived; Mae was still panting for breath, and Marko was tired of the water beating down on his bruised back.

"…Did I do all right?" Mae murmured so quietly that even Marko had trouble hearing her. She almost curled in on herself, but bravely stood tall in the face of her insecurity slipping through. Marko grinned.

"You were good, babe. Very good." He rewarded her with a soft kiss, nuzzling into her cheek. "I'll show you how I like it later. And you?"

"Mmmm. Very good." She laughed, shedding her unease once she knew he wasn't judging her. "But now I'm even more exhausted, and I think you're bleeding again."

With a frown, Marko slipped his hand into his hairline, the skin coming back red. He groaned, rolling his eyes before glaring down at his girlfriend when she giggled at him. In response, she stuck her tongue out, shrieking with laughter when he poked at her stomach for revenge. The air was lighter now, the two of them swatting at each other playfully as the finally washed up, carefully avoiding the dark marks littering their bodies. It didn't take long for them to clean up, and soon enough the water was off and they stood outside the shower, toweling themselves off sluggishly. Mae yawned, tossing her towel on the rack without bothering to see if it stayed there. Marko snorted and did the same, taking advantage of his usually fastidious girlfriend's lack of attention. It was a sign of how tired she was that Mae didn't bother to scold him. For a moment, they stood together in the foggy bathroom, Mae's body the only reflection in the old mirror. She leaned against him and studied herself, seeming to rest against thin air.

"The won't be up for another hour or so, but that's not enough time to get to town and back. I dunno if there'll be any hobos on the beach this time of year. It's awfully cold out there." She said to the mirror, feeling Marko's hand idly stroking her hip.

"We're back to that then, huh?" If she closed her eyes, Mae could pretend that Marko's voice was coming from nowhere and everywhere.

"Yup." She popped the 'p' sound, grinning when it drew a chuckle out of her boyfriend.

"Do you really think you're up to that, babe? You got knocked up pretty badly for a mortal."

"I wasn't a mortal at the time."

"But you are now. You really oughta see a doctor tomorrow."

"Can't. It's obvious that I can't even go out in daylight anymore. I'll ask Dollar Fifty. He slummed it in med school for a while back in the 70's. If it's something bad, I'll go to the hospital when the sun sets." Mae shrugged, wincing at the pain it caused. "Shit. I need to stop doing that."

"You're not making a hell of an argument here, babe." Marko laughed, but let it go. She was a grown woman, and she knew her body better than he did, after all. He was actually rather surprised at how much he was fussing over her. She probably only had a bunch of bruising, just like she said. It didn't stop him from worrying, though. Huh.

"Whatever. The point is, a little fresh blood will help you heal. If shit happens in the next few days, all of you need to be at your best. Paul probably went with Dwayne while he hunted, so I'm not worried about him. You, though…you took a shitload of damage, babe." Mae turned around, raising her eyebrow at him and pointedly moving her hair away from her neck.

"Hey! It wasn't that bad."

Silence.

"Oh, fuck you."

"You just did. Now hurry up and take some blood. It's starting to get cold, and unlike you, I can still get sick."

"You know that's an old wives' tale, right?"

"Marko…"

"All right, all right!"

The vampire in question leaned back against the nearest wall, pulling Mae with him. He wrapped an arm around her chest, pinning her arms to her sides. His other hand came up to brush her hair away from her neck, the skin flushed from the heat of the shower. Gently, he pressed a kiss right over her artery, the smell of the blood flowing just under the surface turning his eyes acid yellow. His fangs slid down, his face contorting as he trailed his teeth over her neck just to feel her shiver in anticipation. He absently noted that she seemed to know what would happen, and he wondered how often her friends down in L.A. had fed from her. Given her lack of fear, probably often enough that she was used to it. Still, he was careful, pausing before he sank his fangs into her neck, giving Mae a chance to back out. When she held still, he pierced her skin with a quick, efficient bite, taking care to do as little damage as possible.

Her choked gasp was music to his ears. Marko felt her blood pour over his tongue, the hot liquid scratching the itch he'd been ignoring since they'd returned home. Normally, he'd let himself fall into the act of feeding with abandon, but that was when he had no intention of letting his victim live. This was Mae, though, so he kept his head on straight, taking precisely four solid mouthfuls before pulling back, licking over the wounds to seal them tight. When he pulled back, he was treated to the sight of a slightly dazed, but very much aroused Mae, her lips flushed red where she'd bitten them to keep herself quiet. An impish smile crossed his face, his mind already thinking of all the ways he could take advantage of her obvious enjoyment of the act.

"You look like the cat that got the cream, baby." Mae snickered, burying her face in his neck, a deep yawn wracking her body.

"It wasn't exactly cream, sweetheart." Marko tested the pet name on his tongue, but it wasn't quite what he wanted. With a mental shrug, he decided he'd think of something better later. "Come on, don't fall asleep on me now. We still gotta get some clothes on before we join the others."

"Clothes are overrated." Mae grumbled, still refusing to move.

"I agree, but I think I'd rather keep your tits to myself, if you know what I mean." He leered, licking his lips with an exaggerated smacking sound. It earned him a laugh and a playful shove, which was exactly what he wanted.

The two of them stumbled out of the bathroom, snagging something that could pass for pajamas from Mae's closet. A few of Marko's things had already migrated there, which was lucky for him, since the rest of his clothes were still in the room he shared with the others. That would be one hell of a walk of shame. Feet bare despite the cold, they leaned on each other as they ambled their way down the hall, dropping unceremoniously on the pile of covers and blankets that was the communal bed, their arms still wrapped around each other. Mae vaguely registered that she had kicked Paul on the shin on her way down, but the second her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.

If any human could sleep like the dead, it was Mae Clayton.

"The remnants, as you requested, Mother."

The sound of a bowl on a granite countertop.

"Thank you, my dear. You can leave us now."

The sound of fabric rustling.

"Of course. Good night, Mother."

The dull thud of a door against wood.

"Oh, my poor, sweet boys. Mummy is so proud of you."

The click of heels on a cracked marble floor.

"You did well, my sons. You bought me time at such a great cost. Your sacrifices will not go unrewarded, I promise you."

The slide of steel against flesh.

"Drink up, my dears. It's time to wake up. Your siblings are all waiting for you. We can't be tardy, now can we?"

The sickening sound of blood dripping onto hollow wood…and something else.

"If there's one thing motherhood teaches you, my darlings, it is patience. Patience is a virtue, my sons."

The sense of dread as wicked eyes find their target.

"Oh, I know. But to be fair, it's the only one I have left."