A/N: Here's chapter twenty one! Will these mysterious Setites get what they've been hoping for, or will their plan collapse beneath them…enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bloodlines, but I do own my OCs. There is also a sensitive topic in this chappie (domestic abuse, drug abuse, all the abuse) if you're not a fan, you can skim over it.

Sometimes he forgot about his human life entirely. It was the only way he could cope, in a way. His life was just so much better as a human. Everything made sense, nothing bad was going on at all, except for their family situation, and no one was trying to kill him. Sometimes he just didn't understand people like Phaedra who often romanticized or raved about how becoming a vampire was the best thing that had ever happened to them. Of course, the circumstances were very different. But in his case, it was easier to forget about Elspeth, his time with Anastasia, doing shows with his sister, and anything relating to his human life.

When he was asleep, his past had a funny way of coming back.

They were about her. Anastasia, the sister who always loved him but he cast aside. He let their differences get in the way of them, again. Now she was who-knows where with the Anarchs. If they were even alive.

Her singing haunted his dreams. That was, if he was ever asleep. The rampant paranoia about Remus and Gideon plotting something terrible regarding him did an excellent job of rendering him facing the ceiling with bloodshot eyes. Now he had Anastasia's fallout to deal with as well.

Deal with. Sounds something exactly like his father would say. A family member's having an existential crisis? Well, it was time to deal with it. Like they were a broken machine or a useless animal, that couldn't function on their own and needed to be shot for having a broken leg. Maybe Cadmus did inherit the demons of his father after all.

It only makes sense. Anastasia got all of their mother, the big heart, the forgiving nature, the optimism. What did that leave Cadmus with? Nothing, really. She was a better singer than he was, a better musician. She always had more friends and always got along with people better. In the more bitter parts of his childhood, he remembered being forced around with her to parties. An idea his mother had, so Cadmus could get pity sibling friends.

Trying to make it so Angelique didn't hear any of the crying at night was an entire muscular miracle in its own. He's surprised his face wasn't paralyzed stiff from all the tears he held back. His ghoul's life was a joke, and it was all his fault. She just ran around and gave him blood and did some errands. Sure, that's what a ghoul is supposed to do, to some Kindred, but watching over a paranoid shell of a man is no task anyone should have to deal with. He hated himself for being so useless, and hated himself even more for exposing Angelique to any of this. She may as well be better off on the streets. It's a better alternative to being woken up by screams every other night. She'd always pop up ever so diligently, only for Cadmus to dismiss it and tell her to go back to sleep. He didn't want to burden her with this anymore. If he falls apart anymore, he would let her go, to live a life of her own, or at least with Ferrum.

He sprang up when the guilt of his dream finally overcame him again, giving a scream for possibly the fifth time this week. He panted and looked around, as if Gideon and Remus would be right behind him, ready to axe him. Then he stiffened up, knowing it would only be mere seconds until Angelique woke up.

"…Cadmus?" Her voice was tiny and soft. She must've been deep asleep.

He put a hand on his forehead, "Just…go back to sleep…I'm fine…"

She grasped at her pillow and faced away, her eyes drifted closed. A dull flame burned in her chest and longed to be let out, but she grumbled under her breath and shut her eyes tight.

Her pink eyes slid over towards the window. She saw bright flashing lights, the sound of horns and engines. Part of her wanted to go back out there again. See everything she hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime.

But that's exactly what she built now. A life. She built a family here with Cadmus, Miranda and Ferrum. If one of her family members, her closest, was at his weakest, was she really willing to give up on him for her own freedom?

What was she expecting? What did she want out of him? A full recovery? If his life was fragile now, when the stakes were high and nothing more, what would happen when things broke down?

When his sister actually died? Miranda? What if the Camarilla actually took a huge hit?

If he broke down, would he ever come back for her? Would he even think about her? She didn't want him to be selfless. But she didn't want him to be selfish either.

Was it worth extending herself to the point of misery to maybe coax a smile from him? Was it worth pulling herself out from her own mind to temporarily quell his anguish?

Would he ever actually be happy? There was always going to be something pissing him off, wasn't there?

Could she handle that? Forever?

When the night picked up, she was already out of bed, getting dressed, while he was still sitting up in bed. In the exact same position he was in when the nightmare woke him up, like a statue, "I've been thinking…"

"Mmm hmm?" She clipped her belt on and fluffed her hair in the mirror.

"You should…you should really go…before this escalates…anymore…"

"…you want me to go?" She seemed surprised.

"Yeah…like…I don't know…" He held onto his head, "Go with Ferrum or Miranda or something. I'm going crazy in this room…doing nothing else. I can't have you wait on me hand and foot either. Because I'm going to lose my sanity eventually…and…and I just don't trust myself…"

"I'm not leaving you here by yourself. You need help."

"They're not exactly going to just go away…" He said, "The LaSombra and Malkavian Antitribu…this could take years…"

"I don't care. You still need help." She threw her hands in the air helplessly, "Maybe I'm not the one to give it. Maybe you're right. But you do need someone to help. I'm just not enough."

"The only way someone could help me out of this is by eliminating the Sabbat."

"And I can't do that." She felt some of the fire nip at her tongue, "So what the hell do you want me to do?" She spoke a bit louder, then bit her tongue and looked away. "Sorry."

"Nothing." He said, "I don't want anything from you. I actually want you to go somewhere else. Because these arguments are only going to get worse, and I don't want that for you."

"I'm not leaving you here to die." She looked back up at him.

"I won't die in here…I'll just…get cabin fever and go crazy. You could stay with Ferrum and Miranda, they're just down the hall."

She knew there was no use arguing. She'd tell Strauss he needed help. There was nothing left she could do. Not now. "Fine." She threw her hands in the air, "I'll go. But this will blow over."

"When they die, it will."

She gave a little nod, then headed downstairs, grabbed her things, took a deep sigh and headed to Ferrum and Miranda.

This might take months. She might need a little help from a certain Gangrel to make sure she stayed a ghoul.

He had no idea how intricate or complicated the rest of the temple was. All he could see as Jasper was hoisting them to the lower levels was that there were a lot of prisoner cells, for he supposed Cainites like himself.

He didn't know if Jasper said parting words or something snarkier as he and Madame Vaska were chained up in a new room, but after he left, it was just the two of them.

"How long have you been captured here?" Cedric asked.

"Not long…a week…or two…I've lost track, honestly." Madame Vaska said. He faced ahead, then she asked, "How did you and Lafayette get captured?"

"We were doing an…unrelated mission…" He fibbed, not wanting to find out what they were really planning on doing. "And we were ambushed…it was one-sided until Natalia herself showed up…"

"Hmm…his Sabbat still stands? I'm surprised it hasn't crumbled against that Tremere Prince…"

"Yes. We are still strong and vibrant as ever. We…received four new Followers of Set as generals…but…they were merely infiltrators. They turned on us and got us precisely in the situation we're in now…"

"…I've always wondered…"

"What?" He turned to face her again.

"Why you chose the path of the Sabbat."

He looked at the ground, "I have no use for humanity. Not looking like this. The Camarilla fails to entice me in any way…the Sabbat, on the other hand, have a goal I can agree with, the subjugation of humankind."

"But you're a Cappadocian."

He closed his eyes. It stung, why did it sting? To hear what he really was. What he was before it all went horribly wrong.

"It all goes back to your Antediluvian…doesn't it?" She went on, sighing in remembrance "I remember when most of them were still active. Tzimisce controlled the rest of his clan with such bloody efficiency."

"I wouldn't be too quick to praise Tzimisce." Cedric said, "It is said that out of all the Antediluvians…that he was never sired. He was merely an evil cloud of toxins that came from one of Caine's childer after a grisly battle."

"An evil cloud of toxins?"

He figured it was pointless to fill her in on the fact that Lafayette wanted to drain said Antediluvian as well, "So the legend goes…"

"I suppose Cappadocius is no more of a saint."

He clenched his fists, "No." He said, "Population control…he called it…a devout and godly remedy to the overpopulation of his clan. Overpopulation…" He snickered madly, "Imagine if he was around now. He wouldn't even be able to find any of his brethren!"

"The Feast of Folly…"

Cedric's eyes wavered, before they hardened, then shut. He looked at his metal hands. Thanks to his gracious Antediluvian, at best he looked like a cyborg or, as most prepubescent night owls say, a grim reaper. But none of it compared to what he looked like under the robes. Basically a skeleton with some skin draped over it. The absolute worst of a Cappadocian Clan weakness multiplied to infinity. Cappadocius turned him into what he was now.

"The Giovanni stole our revenge." He growled, "By diablerizing Cappadocius and the rest of his blind followers. They did the finishing touches to erase us from history…"

"But there are some of you left…right? Like Lazarus?"

"In torpor…but alive…" He said, "He is being watched over, by the most devout servant. Luckily…not all Cappadocians fell into Cappadocius's trap…the Feast of Folly…"

She looked ahead, "Let me help you then, Cedric…when or if Lafayette falls, I'll help you reunite with Lazarus."

His eyes widened, then he gave an awkward chuckle, "But we're not going to escape this place. Natalia is probably executing Lafayette and Remus as we speak."

"No, she's too late. She's been outplayed."

"Outplayed?" He asked, "What do you mean?"

"Unfortunately her knowledge of Dominate is shoddy at best."

"But your arms are bound!"

She smiled, "Arms are not needed for the great puppeteer. Do you not remember? Eye contact is not needed either."

His eyes widened, "Higher levels of Dominate only need slight skin contact…"

"Or a strong voice." Madame Vaska's smile grew, "And luckily she's been having her rats tend to my imprisonment constantly. Now all we need to do is wait for one of them to scurry in here…"

His eyes lit up with excitement once again now that their situation looked a bit less dreary, "Yes, I will wait with excitement!"

"Then we can break out together, and destroy Natalia once and for all."

He paused, "I…cannot see Lafayette favoring that idea…"

"We will worry about that later." She said, "Quiet, one of them is coming…"

The door to their cell flung open, and Jasper returned, "Do you two fools have any last words before Lady Natalia leaves you out for the Camarilla to destroy?"

"You will release us." Madame Vaska said.

Jasper's eyes went dull as a bright blue glow went around his head, he went over to Cedric and Madame Vaska and freed them.

"We're free!" Cedric cheered.

"Yes, now, to business." Madame Vaska crossed her arms.

"Huh…huh…what?" Jasper shook himself awake, looking at his hands, "Hey…what did I just do? Why are you both free?!"

Madame Vaska held a hand out, and Jasper fainted as another blue glow went around his head, "Let us make our escape…"

"Hey babe."

"Hey hun." Casual talk for a couple. And then, "Another step and I'll fire."

That's all she was, wasn't she? She was fire. She was orange and blue, she was hot and dangerous, she was chemicals and smoke.

And he couldn't really get away from her.

The barrel of the revolver felt cool against the base of his skull, right where the neck and head meet. One hit there and he'd be out. Maybe he'd be Lumi's next body.

The barrel slid away from his neck and instead came up around, right under his jaw. His head instinctively rose a bit as she applied pressure, "How was work? Where's the goods?"

"In the car." With every syllable, he felt the barrel press up against his tongue even further.

She moved the gun away and thwacked him in the temple with it. It left a bruise, for sure, but he brushed it off. "Why aren't your hands up?" She asked, her voice had a little rasp to it. It was endearing to him, he could hear the grains of whatever she had snorted, or maybe just the smoke from whatever she'd just taken in. "Do you want to pull something on me this time?"

Her eyes were the color of embers. Dark pits with lively little orange flecks that seemed to crawl around her irises. At least, that's always what he thought of embers. Like little glowing worms slowly devouring the ashes. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks stained with some sort of bronzer, or maybe it was just oil and dirt.

She broke away from him, a lioness no longer interested in her prey. He brought his hands up and kept them up. She held the gun in her hand loosely, flicking it around like it was her baton and the world was her symphony. "Why's it in the car?"

He wasn't going to tell her it was because his best friend's, (best friend?), alpaca spit on him. "Forgot it. Sorry."

"Forgot it?" She asked, facing him. "Forgot it?" She sauntered closer. Maybe some of the reason he stayed with her was her body. She wasn't too tall, wasn't too short, wasn't fat or thin. She was just right. But what did it for Chester wasn't really her looks. Not even the roguish tattoos that made up her skin, not the highlights in the hair. While many men fell into two categories, Chester fell into his own. He preferred a tiny waist, and that's exactly what she had. "Chess forgot something? You never forget anything. Especially things for me."

"I know. Busy day."

"So busy you forgot about me?" Her eyes narrowed.

He felt her ticking down like dynamite. After two months with her, he knew exactly what to predict. All the little signs she gave, the subconscious signals. These were signs no normal person would detect either. These were things that made Chester special. If his predictions were right, he had about thirteen seconds before she snapped.

"I'd never forget about you, babe."

"But you did." She hissed.

Ten. "Why don't you let me make you dinner? We could go out. Nice diner. I got good pay today." He lied. He'd been losing money, really, since he'd been cutting his hours to work for Lumi.

"Who said I wanted to go out? Looking like this?" She was getting more and more volatile, "Maybe you look fine, but you need to start putting me into consideration." She put her hands on her hips, then started pacing, "Ugh, that's just something you do, isn't it. You're all fucking pigs! Whores and slave-holders, huh? Your little bitch isn't looking fine today, well, doesn't matter, because you are! Gonna take the sow to the market, huh? That's what you feel like, isn't it?"

"Nix—"

She grabbed the vase from the table and threw it at point blank range.

As he felt the glass shatter over his face, he couldn't have imagined her having any other name. Nix. A creature who preyed off of men for they fortune, their flesh, and of course, their sex. There were a few differences, however. Nixes were a little less violent. They preferred quick and easy kills over torture. But, he supposed, there were always the outliers.

He took his glasses off, they were broken too. He tucked them into his pocket before carefully swiping a hand over his face, unhooking the glass from his flesh. As he looked up at her, he saw she was still fuming.

The fire hadn't been put out yet, he figured. Still too much fuel.

"Give me your belt." She hissed.

He stared her in the eye for a long while, feeling a trickle of blood slowly crawl down from his forehead. She reached forward and unlatched his belt, ripping it off. She let it crack against the ground before she lashed it out right across his face.

The buckle bruised his left eye, and the leather left a deep gash in his left cheekbone. He was downed quickly and landed on the broken glass, feeling the shards imbed into his arms. He knew he should have gotten rid of that vase.

Nix stood over him, gritting her teeth before she started stomping on his chest. He brought his arms up and tried to cover as many blows as he could.

He could have fought back. He could have ran. But he never did.

Nix had an ex-boyfriend who she thought of constantly. She never once even mentioned him to Chester, but he knew he existed. He knew she wasn't like this for no reason.

All he knew was Nix had a lot of scars, one of them a scar from a caesarian section. Maybe he didn't give her any of the others, but he knew that was enough for her.

He also knew Nix had a sister. Nix held the photo of her sister on her person at all times. It was in her wallet, it was on their nightstand, it was in the living room, somewhere. Her sister was always smiling in every photo they were in. Her sister was prettier than she was, more girlish. She had ice cream in her hands in just about every photo Nix had.

Chester also knew this sister was no longer in Nix's life. Once she had mentioned a name behind this, and this name was spoken with more toxicity than a snake's venom, and never spoken again.

But, she was a fire. She was dangerous and hot. She burned him, but kept him warm. When she had given up on stomping on him, she grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him to his feet.

The look on his face was absolutely pitiable, but he certainly didn't intend for it to be. She gave him a look, her eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips. He cowered. He knew she was going to bust his lip, he knew she was thinking about it.

Instead, she dove in for a kiss. A searing one, he could taste the nicotine in her breath. He kissed her back, firmly planting his hands around her waist.

She held his weary shoulders firmly and pushed him back. "So, dinner?"

He knew her blue lipstick was smudged all over his face. "Yeah. You want to go out?"

She grabbed his tie and used it to wipe the blood off his face. "What the hell did I say?" Her eyes burned with frustration.

He bowed his head and turned to go into the kitchen.

He knew if he made her the wrong meal, she'd be absolutely livid. Maybe enough to knock him out for the rest of the night.

He chose spaghetti. Something fast. He could feel her impatience as she leaned against the counter and smoked something. After a whiff, he knew it was weed. It was one of the only things he didn't provide her, but she seemed to get from nowhere.

It was something she was high on when he first met her. Nix on any other drug was a nightmare, none more than alcohol. But weed turned her into something pleasant, something easy to deal with. She seemed to know this, and usually smoked it after a fight.

As he set a plate on the table for her, he dusted off his sleeves. His arms were starting to feel numb from the burning sensation of the broken glass, still in there. He'd take them out when she wasn't after him.

She grabbed the plate and sat at the table, wolfing it down. Not a word was spoken. Chester found a half finished joint of some sort left on the kitchen counter and grabbed it. He could see her blue lipstick on the end, but didn't care. He grabbed his lighter and lit it, taking in a deep breath. Whatever it was made some of the pain go away immediately.

She hiccupped, then stood up and went to the fridge to grab a can of beer. She downed about half of it, belched, then rubbed her stomach, "Good grub, hun."

"Yeah. Not a problem."

She sauntered over to her and took the joint from his lips, putting it between hers, "You should go get some of yours from the car…" She walked two fingers up his chest.

"I'll be fine." He knew if he did much more, he'd knock himself out. His next shift was in four hours, so he was hoping for at least two hours of sleep, and not unconsciousness.

"Yeah, but I won't. Idiot." She flicked his nose, then combed her fingers through his hair, "You need a haircut."

"I do?" His eyes flickered up.

"When we first met, I thought it was cute. It wasn't all curly like that."

"This is how it is naturally. I had it gelled before."

"I liked it gelled better."

"You told me it was too scratchy when it was gelled."

"I did? No I didn't. You should get it cut. I don't like that."

"I've had it like this for almost two months."

"No…you haven't…" She smiled, "Stop playing games with me!" She grabbed his tie, "Let's go in the living room…"

He followed her to the living room, but really, he was dragged, "I could really get it cut if you want…I just thought you liked it like this better. You said it was softer."

"Well, it is…it's like wool…" She pet his hair as she pulled him onto the couch, "I've never had a black boyfriend before you, so I never got to do this."

"So do you want it cut or not?"

"Mmm…I dunno…" She started kissing him again. He leaned in and kissed her back, tasting the smoke on her tongue. Their kisses were always a battle she won, especially when she grabbed at his tender arms and bruised torso.

"Chess…" She pleaded, her breath reeking of the beer she'd drank, "Go down on me…?"

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Then he said, "When was the last time you actually bathed?"

He saw the fire on her face light up again.

Hot, dangerous, chemical and smoke, blue and orange. Those blue lips always pursed in a scowl, her alternating blue and orange nails combing through her neck length dark hair, the blue bruises on her inner arms.

"Why do I have to bathe?" She spat, "You wouldn't have to." She stood up, "I'd be expected to get on my knees and suck until you bust a nut, wouldn't I?"

There was no way in heaven or hell this woman was stable enough to be in a relationship. He'd decided that four hours after he'd given her his virginity, after their first 'date'.

"You're all just untitled, bratty, spoiled sons of bitches!" She reached for something. For a new weapon. As their time went on, she slowly ran out of weapons. She started using things like tissue boxes, fake flowers, tablecloths. Things that never really left his body hurting.

She grabbed the wire from the phone line and tore it out of the wall. Her hands twirled the cord in her right hand before she brought it down on his head. It hit him right in the cheekbone, right over that nasty gash from the previous belt whipping. The pain was momentarily blinding. She seemed like she wanted to do more, but then she took a deep breath and dropped the cable, "Ugh…whatever…I'm gonna go take a bath then…and I'm not gonna think of you when I come."

He watched in awe as she walked off. Definitely the marijuana. He hissed as he gently felt the gash on his face, then as he looked at the cord. She could have killed him. Asphyxiated him by just wrapping it around his neck and giving a little pull. But she grew bored. His eyes slowly closed as he sighed and grabbed another blunt from the table, lighting what was left and smoking it.

It was when he had two broken ribs, a fractured skull and a broken arm that Lumi met him, and gave him some of her blood. She seemed absolutely fascinated with him after coming in a few times for some medications for her husband. He'd never felt drawn to a person until then.

It wasn't her generosity, or her figure, or her apathy towards everything. It was just her. He knew he didn't love her. He was addicted to her, and her blood. He understood there was a blood bond. Just because it was there didn't mean he didn't like it. He often dreamed of a world where Nix was dead, Kipper was too, and Lumi decided to take his hand and hold it for all of eternity.

But he couldn't kill Nix. Nix had siblings, more than just her innocent little sister. One of her brothers looked strong enough to cram Chester into a can of tuna and call it a night. He'd rather not take his chances.

He'd expressed to Nix numerous times that he wanted to leave her. That he was interested in at least taking a break. But for all her antics, she was surprisingly monogamous. Aggressively so. One night he came home smelling of Lumi's perfume and he never felt the end of it.

For Nix, there was no one better to feed the flames. No one. A psychopathic drug-dealing biologist who was insanely talented with her body and would never challenge her authority? She planned to keep him around forever.

The only problem was, forever didn't seem like it was going to last long for Nix. As of now, Chester's plan was to ride out her life as long as he could before she died and he couldn't quite bring her back. He'd pulled her from two overdoses now, but he was sure a third would be it for her.

Maybe Nix would find someone more appetizing for her. But for now, Chester had nothing else to do but hold on by the skin of his teeth and hope Lumi would hold him together.

A/N: What's behind door number two? A shiny new car? A trip to Hawaii? Ah hah! Bet you didn't expect that! Thanks for reading!