The music was throbbing violently throughout his veins. Images in black and white were cast across his mind: a dark castle sitting atop a twisted mountainside, the overgrown trees casting hideous shadows across the path and the sound of wolves howling in the distance, giving warning to the weary traveler that walked up the trail, unaware.

It took him a moment to recognize the traveler's face.

Malaki.

The kid trudged up the stooping hillside, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder and shivering all over from the sudden burst of cold. He came to the cryptic, iron gates and without hesitation, he stepped inside. Paul could feel him… the warmth that seeped out in an icy sweat along his skin. The taste of the cool breath that parted those lips and the fear that was riled in his veins, though burdened with a sense of knowing that he absolutely must go on.

Within moments, he was at the door. The heavy, iron knocker lifted and dropped against the wooden frame, effectively sealing his doom as the passage opened and he was allowed entrance inside. In the back part of his mind, Paul was screaming for him to turn back. Go away. He had a better chance of fighting off the wolves than he had at entering this castle and awakening the horrors within.

The music intensified slowly. The soft beat of drums giving away to chimes and an eerie organ that played a sinfully sweet melody, pouring from brass pipes. With every step Malaki took, the beat seemed to grow louder and more distinct. The throbbing of a human heart.

There was a creature inside the room with him, hidden from sight. Paul knew that it was near… watching and waiting for the right moment when the kid got down next to the fire to warm himself. When he'd begun to believe that this place was empty or the hosts were kind enough to allow a passing visitor vacancy for no price at all. Which was strange, because Malaki knew better than anyone else that nothing in life ever came without a price.

After calling out several times in a voice that was unheard through the beats, he moved to set his worn pack aside and take off his jacket, settling down upon a couch after giving it a good brush with his hand. Was he truly that stupid? Didn't he realize it was all just a fucking set up?

The fire burned warmly, the dancing of flames capturing the human's eyes and lulling him into a trance that began to grow more deep as the moments wore on. Eyelids began to grow heavy and unfocused, blinking repeatedly until they closed for the last time and Malaki was instantly taken away by the darkness and the dreams within his own mind.

It was then that the creature made his move.

From the shadows, he appeared like a corny phantom in some two-bit horror novel: no sparks, no glitter, simply a change of scene and the monster stepped out of the darkness to reveal himself and his true intentions. Paul wouldn't have been more surprised if it had been Santa Clause… rather than the twisted image of himself.

His skin was pale, death-like and warped in some strange, animalistic way that seemed familiar, though it was far from the cheap, horror-movie Dracula's that he'd seen in the past. Cheek-bones were high, eyes sharp and defined in their hunger and fangs bared as he moved slowly through the room, coming to stand over the sleeping human and smirk as fingers moved down to brush against those tangled, black locks.

No mercy… especially as those fingers curled and Malaki's eyes opened, just in time to see Paul's face as it was twisted in that horror and scream---

"NO!"

Body bolted upwards, arms flailing and legs kicking wildly beneath the pile of blankets and pillows, fighting them off as though they were demons risen up from some inner circle of Hell. Pain shot through his mind, coupled with that same deep, throbbing sensation that had been caused by the music in his dream. The only difference, was that the room was silent.

Sweat drenched his body. Sensation poured through his limbs in sharp zings and sparks of energy, burning as they reached his fingertips and toes. His hair was matted to the side of his face and eyes blinked repeatedly as he tried to work his way through the dirty blonde mass and the sudden light that seemed to be everywhere around him, though strangely, he knew it was night.

Fuck… he couldn't think. Couldn't breathe or concentrate on anything else than the sudden, violent pounding in his head. It traced through his body slowly, like an itch beneath the skin that would never be satisfied by a single scratch. Not until he had torn the skin away and sunk his teeth into…

Shit.

"Laddie?"

Body stumbled upwards, dizzy for a moment but catching his balance on the armrest of the couch that had been smeared in dried blood. Bits and pieces from the night before were tracing throughout his mind, the music… the acid… telling David that he was thirsty and that he wanted all the pain and anguish to stop. He couldn't remember anything after that moment, only stumbling into Maria's house just moments before sunrise and passing out upon her couch.

She hadn't been happy about it, that much he knew. She'd yelled at him in both Spanish and English before telling him to watch the kid for the day while she ran errands and whoring.

"Laddie?!"

No.. it was just a dream. He hadn't killed Malaki… or hadn't meant to. Legs stumbled forward, catching their balance after a few moments and searching throughout the trailer for the little twerp and his teddy bear.

"Fuck, this isn't funny!"

Panic. The kind he'd felt the moments in his own trailer when the knocks had started upon his door and he'd opened it to find the boys, seeking out their revenge. But Paul had deserved it, Laddie didn't.

But somehow, he knew that Laddie was with them. That the kid was in that cave and possibly Malaki as well, awaiting their deaths. The dream was a warning and Paul didn't need anymore encouragement as he rushed out the door and to his own bike that had been parked half-hazardly against the side of the trailer.

If only he could get there in time…

"Come out, we're not going to hurt you."

The child was sobbing almost uncontrollably. Tiny red fists clutched hard to that teddy-bear as face buried itself away within the worn mask of fur and artificial fluff, unwilling to look up and into those deep, brown eyes. The human must have warned him ahead of time, though it didn't stop Dwayne from reaching down past the fallen bolder, scooping the boy up and into his arms.

The kid flailed for a moment, but was suddenly stilled as a hand came out to cup his face and turn that wide and frightened gaze into his own. One of the more useful vampire tricks that was only learned after a good deal of practice and staring contests with Marko.

The kid was small for his age, terribly thin and with a mess of brown locks that hadn't looked to have met with a comb in some time. Tears continued to drip down his dirt-smudged face though breathing slowed to an acceptable level and body relaxed within his strong hold.

"It's alright, I've found him," Called out to the others as he moved over the rocks and fallen debris, carrying the child back into the main room.

One look from the others would say it all, this was far from the "back-up" they'd been expecting when Malaki had called out to Laddie, telling the boy to run. The kid quivered, breaking eye contact just enough to gaze down and into the room where David stood, poised and ready for attack until he saw the bundle that Dwayne was toting. Blue eyes passed from the limp human to the ground, back to the kid whose sniffles were the only sounds in the room, other than the flickering of the flames.

A five-year-old and his teddy-bear. Dwayne brushed the edge of the kid's mind just enough to learn that it's name was "Monster."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" spoken from Marko who had been in the midst of tying up the human and setting a gag around his mouth.

Without waiting for an answer, the grunge angel would kick Malaki hard in the side, forcing a sharp, muffled cry through that dirty rag and the kid to break away from Dwayne's gaze just enough to start crying once again. He shot Marko a glare.

"Hey… shhhhh. Just calm down," spoken softly as he pulled the struggling boy closer and laid that head against his shoulder.

It was amazing how quickly attachment came. How suddenly Dwayne could feel the eyes of both his brothers upon him and David's own searing into the flesh of his back as his strong, silent killer was immediately overthrown by a child. But the man hadn't known much about Dwayne's own life before he'd stumbled upon him in the desert, sacrificing his soul to the Sun God and begging for death as the night fell upon him. His quest for suicide had been in part due to loosing his youngest brother to a rival gang that had been passing through their small town.

The nights his mother had sobbed, begging the Gods to spare him just one more day so that she could say goodbye. His father, emotionless and cold as he sat in front of the television, drinking and glaring at Dwayne when he thought his son wasn't looking. Everything was his fault. The boy's blood was on his hands.

In his mind, this kid was the spitting image of Henry; the dark hair and tanned skin, large blue eyes that stared out in a sense of knowing that went beyond his years. And of course, a teddy-bear that was his protector. That kept him safe as he slept, though it wasn't enough to stop a bullet to the back of his head.

"Dwayne."

Brown eyes turned back to stare at David across the room, feeling the sudden tension in the air and immediately shaking his head.

"No…"

"If he has any kind of attachment to Paul, he could notify the authorities and--"

"He's a kid, David."

Arms tightened around the boy's frame, keeping him locked securely within his grasp as David stepped forward and… hesitated. It was the first time that Dwayne had ever gone against his Sire's wishes. The first time he acted foolishly and for the sake of a human, no less.

David stepped closer, taking care in his movements and stopping no more than three feet away. "He's not your brother, Dwayne."

The man flinched, feeling a sense of utter outrage that David should bring up such a sacred memory and act as though it were nothing more than simply that. The past that collected only dust. The kid had calmed some, sniffing loudly and gazing over Dwayne's shoulder to stare at Marko who had begun to make faces at him.

"I don't care… he doesn't deserve to die," spoken softly, eyes darkening as they glared into David's own.

He expected anger but instead, David's eyes seemed to soften slightly around the edges. The creature was cold and ruthless, but when it came to his children, his brothers in blood, there was truly no denying them what they wanted. Be it a form of love or simply to shut them up for awhile.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, he turned away. "So be it."