A/N: Here's chapter sixteen! Want even more characters? Here. Take them. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bloodlines, but I do own my OCs. Also Delilah.

Delilah felt a little dirty, but, she had her needs.

She'd never done long distance before. And she knew it was particularly dangerous with the Jyhad on their shoulders, but she needed someone she could talk to. Iphigenia was always in a terrible mood, and generally seemed to be avoiding the Chantry, and Victor was her Magister. It would be as if an employee went to their boss's office just to talk. It was a little strange.

She gently knocked on the door, hoping his sister wasn't there. She wanted to be loud without worrying about her in the back of her mind. She wanted it all over the house, anyway.

Raphael was on the other side of the door when it opened, his eyes widened, "Delilah?"

"Hi." She gave him a tiny smile, then hugged him.

He hugged her back, a smile of his own on his face, "I can't believe you came back…"

"I missed you…" She held onto him tightly, "It's been so long…"

"…I suspect no one knows anything about…us…"

"I sure hope not." Delilah let herself in, as soon as the door closed, she sealed her lips up against his and started making out with him. He kissed her back, holding her tightly as he did what he could to keep up with her. As she gently broke the kiss, her eyes were heavy-lidded, "Where should we go first…?"

"I…I'm not sure…"

She pulled him towards her as she threw herself against the door and wrapped her legs around him. He frantically held onto her, doing his best to hold her up in her current position.

Her kisses were heated and feverish, her hands grasping all over his form. She grabbed the brim of her hat and tossed it aside, then started untying the fastenings of her dress.

He kissed her back, helping her take the dress off, "Are you sure you don't want to do this in a more…comfortable location?" He asked, rubbing her back.

Her dark red lacy underwear matched her lipstick perfectly, "I want you to do me all over the house…"

He swallowed hard, figuring now would be a good time to catch up with her in terms of getting naked. He took his sweatshirt off, then his pants, holding onto her dearly and kissing her. She started grinding her hips up against his, sighing in relief as some of her thirst was slated from the friction. But, that only lasted so long before she wanted more, and her nails in his shoulders told him as much.

"Okay…" He flinched, "Easy…easy…careful…" He gently squeezed her arms, he then gradually unlatched her bra, taking it off so he could hold her breasts.

She gave a relieved sigh, her hips still rolling over his length, "The couch…" She whispered.

He nodded, moving them over to the living room and setting her down, getting on top of her and kissing her. Her eyes flickered all over his body before she pressed her palms to his chest, smoothing her hands all over before she started kissing him again, looping her legs around his hips.

He held her breasts, "Someone's frisky…"

"Very frisky…" She panted, combing her fingers over his hair, without getting them tangled this time.

He smiled, "In that case, perhaps I should see how…soaked I can get you…"

She smirked, then it widened to a grin as she took her panties off and pressed them against his chest, "How's that so far?"

He snickered, "I hardly did anything yet…"

She let them fall to the floor, "That's just my thirst…" She hissed.

"So…if I were to bite you…"

Her eyes widened, then she pulled him in closer and grazed her teeth along his jawline, licking over it as she continued to grind against him.

He circled his thumbs over her nipples, "I'm not going to go easy on you, this time…"

"I'll be angry if you do…" She shuddered under his touch.

He waited for her to move away from his jawline, then he reared back and bit into her neck, this time crunching in without any sort of mercy. She gasped as the pain lit up her head, greater than any she'd felt from him before, but she knew the pleasure would only be that much greater.

Sure enough, after the rush had faded, a searing ecstasy flooded her veins. A high-pitched cry of release flew from her mouth, but she couldn't even hear herself. Her body curled under his touch, her hips thrusting themselves towards his, her arms clutching him tightly as her back arched away from the cushions.

"I suppose…you'd like me to…finish off down there now?"

She was clearly delirious, "Raphael…" She moaned blissfully, her hips and thighs still quivering as she was left in some sort of erotic limbo.

He pulled his underwear off, sliding his erection towards her already soaking wet entrance. Another scream flew from her mouth, her grip around him even tighter than he remembered as soon as he filled her. She brought his body as close to hers as she could, shuddering in his arms.

He sighed as he began to release his load and thrust in and out of her. He put one hand on her rear, and one hand on one of her breasts, leaving the latter in an iron-like grip. Their rhythm locked in in just mere moments, her heart feeling like it would start to beat again just from seeing him there in front of her again.

He kissed her lips, sucking on the bottom one occasionally, stopping to kiss her cheek or neck if she needed to scream. He ended up switching quite frequently, almost forgetting how vocal she was when she wanted to be. Her body was still extremely responsive by the time he pulled himself away, but he knew she wanted it more, and he knew he needed to save some energy.

She was exhausted regardless, a smile tugged at her lips, "Raphael…" She reached forward and held his cheek, "I missed you so much…"

"Yes…I believed we've covered that…" He said.

She held his face and kissed him a few more times, "How have you been?"

"Fine…" He said, "I…I missed you a lot too…the Sabbat can be…rather bothersome…when you're not around…"

"You don't have any immediate plans of attacking us, do you?"

"No." He said, rubbing her sides, and her stomach, "I bet you already heard that Remus attacked a Giovanni structure. I didn't even know that there were Giovanni in Los Angeles…"

She sighed, her body leaning into his touch. When her eyes opened, she answered, "I know…they were hidden quite well…"

He sighed, though his was of annoyance, "Just when things were supposed to be easier, they get more complicated…" He said, "Lafayette, Remus, and Cedric have something planned, up their sleeve, but they won't tell anyone…it's…top secret supposedly…" He said, "Sorry, I'm not much help…"

"I'm not asking for much, I just want to make sure I'm safe…"

"If something dangerous was going to happen to you or the Tremere, I would warn you." He kissed her, "I would never let you get hurt."

"I'll do the same." She ruffled his hair.

"I apologize…" He said, "It must be inconvenient for you to come all the way to Nevada just to say hello…or…" He eyed her over lustfully, "More than that…"

"It wasn't inconvenient. My Chantry is just fine without me for a week or so."

"They wouldn't notice?"

"I told them. I told them I had something to take care of."

"I see." He kissed her, "I guess that would be me?"

"Yes."

He kissed her again, rubbing his length against her inner thigh. She could feel that it was still recovering from before, but it was growing ever so slightly.

She bit her lip and sighed, "Raphael…"

"Sometimes…I fantasize getting you so wet it trickles down to your legs…" He said, "That…that's happened before…right?"

"I'm not sure…but I would love to find out…"

He smiled, "I wanted to try something a little different." He said, going down slightly and sucking on her breast.

"Ooh…." She writhed beneath him, her a chill shook her core. He closed his eyes and did what he could to get more of it into his mouth. His length was meanwhile grew a bit bigger, but at the position he was in, he couldn't rest it against anything aside from her leg, which he settled with.

"Raphael…?"

He moved his mouth away, "Am I doing something wrong?"

"No…I want…I want to change positions…"

"Alright." He rolled over to she was on top.

She straddled him for a moment, then stood up, "I want you to do me over the table…or a banister or…something…so it can go down my leg…"

"Now, now…" He looked flustered, but deep in the back of his head he was very turned on, "I…I d-don't want to sacrifice your comfortability for this…"

"Please?"

"Very well…the table it is…" He said, "Christ, I think we've done it more there than anywhere else…"

"Maybe so, but I'm okay with that." She stood up and started walking over to the table before she stood in front of it and leaned her front half over it, her rear and legs still standing.

He leaned over her, his length gigantic now, "Were you…ready now?"

"If you are." She smirked and looked over her shoulder.

"I'll go slowly." He gradually penetrated her, biting her neck gently and chewing on it, building up a small rhythm.

She gave a staggered cry, her blood burning from the bite as her hips started thrusting back into his, "F-Faster…pl-please…"

He groaned, holding back his orgasm was starting to give his length a burning sensation, but he ignored it, he wanted her to feel good for as long as possible. He went a little faster, biting a little harder, too.

She grit her teeth and cried out, the change in angle made any soreness she felt before completely dissolve away into nothing. She just kept begging for more, her body beginning to feel numb under his touch.

"I'm…I'm going to go…will you be able to take it…?"

"Yes, yes, please…" She urged.

He grunted, then yelled as the throbbing pain was finally able to cease, and the rhythm they made multiplied tenfold. She continued to grunt out encouragements, her legs shaking and the table squealing as the friction between them grew hotter and hotter.

The grunts got slightly louder as he kept humping her, trying to hook his mouth onto her neck occasionally. She screamed as he bit her again, her body tensing around him, he could feel her clench around his length, too.

He held onto her body dearly, until he finally tired out, moving away to give her space. Her voice sounded hoarse as he pulled himself away, her body weakened beneath him, "Raphael…" She moaned.

He moved forward and held her close, "Are you alright?"

"More than alright…" She turned around, her legs a little tired as she wrapped her arms around him.

He scooped her up, "I suppose we'll sleep in the bedroom…I just hope Vivi doesn't notice…"

Her eyes widened, "She…she was here?"

"Yes…upstairs sleeping…"

"You should have told me that earlier…I was screaming so much…"

"Well…she didn't hear last time…" He said sheepishly.

"Hopefully she didn't hear this time…" She muttered, walking upstairs with him and heading to the bedroom, her dark eyes taking everything in.

"The…castle…has a better bedroom…" He said quickly.

"It's perfect." She sat on the creaky bed.

He sat beside her, "I suppose we'll both be sleeping for a while."

"I would like that." She grinned, curling up in his arms and drifting off.

Sometimes a Tzimisce had to do his own work. Especially if they were more of a fan of converting their ghouls into Szlachta or Vozhd than using them as people.

Nonetheless Lafayette made it work. Usually by finding disillusioned gangs or drifters who were pretty much on the ledge of suicide already. He took their flesh and their bones. Unless he was hungry, then he would just feed from them until they were dead.

That's what the Tzimisce Ancilla was working on right now. An entire gang of twenty, now one huge wad of flesh he was trying to pack away into his bag. Their weapons would go to the shovelhead soldiers, and the good ones would be used by Lafayette himself. Though he liked the machine gun he had now, and with his Auspex as high as it was, it made short work of Cainites a long distance away.

And with Vicissitude up close, Lafayette was pretty much impossible to beat. Add in the fact that Animalism could be used for blood control.

He chuckled, heading down the streets, things were finally starting to look up for the Sabbat. They had four new Followers of Set. If they were all half as talented as Sirius, than this war would be over. He heard the stories of how Sirius took apart the Anarchs bit by bit, and soon he would be doing the very same to the Camarilla.

And then there was Basil, the Toreador, no, the Volgirre. His Vicissitude seemed powerful, even stronger than, he shuddered, his own. But was that possible? He didn't know, he never asked Basil what generation he was. It could stand to reason that Basil's flesh crafting powers matched that of his late sire, Andrei, and all this excited him more than he could put into words.

He looked back for the umpteenth time as he felt a presence, "Enjoying the show, filthy scavenger…?"

"Who are you calling a filthy scavenger?" A thick Italian accent said, as Giuseppe stepped out from the shadows, "How did you see me?"

"You cannot escape my sight." Lafayette tapped the side of his eyes, as his eyes flickered red.

He frowned, "Those were your men who destroyed my club, I know it."

"Well, you were in our city." Lafayette grinned, "And unlike the foolish Camarilla, we are not bound by frivolous promises made under superstitious circumstances…"

Giuseppe drew his sword, his body lightning up with the blue lightning of Potence, "Then perhaps their leader's head will convince the Sabbat to move elsewhere."

"Poor dear, are you still coming to terms with the facts that we destroyed your base of operations?"

The Giovanni chuckled for a long while, "Only a miserable fool would show all his cards in the first battle. I'm saving the good ones for later."

Lafayette's eyes widened. To hear that this was not just some novice Giovanni who was on his way out was not welcome news. That he had more forces hidden in California, no, no, this wouldn't do at all.

But his reverie was destroyed as Giuseppe lunged at him. Lafayette smirked and avoided it, holding a hand out as a red glow came from it. Giuseppe flinched as his torso was bent and molded out of shape. "Trust me…Giovanni fool…the last thing you'll want to do is get close to me…"

Giuseppe held his warped midsection. Not a pressing injury, but it would penalize his speed and movement heavily. Perhaps long range was the way to go. He held a hand out, as a purple glow of skulls went around it, calling upon his necromantic hordes to deal with the Tzimisce.

Lafayette laughed, dead flesh was, after all, still flesh. He grabbed the nearest zombies and turned them into his own monsters on the spot. So they were in effect, Tzimisce creation zombie hybrids.

Giuseppe swallowed hard as his own defensive measure backfired, he used the three specters he had on command to attack Lafayette instead.

Lafayette jumped out of the way, frowning as he had no way to counter the ghosts. He squinted at them, "Hmm…a mother and her children…your spirits don't seem too eager to serve you…"

"Oh, like your flesh donors adore serving you?"

He snickered for a long time, "The atrocities the Giovanni and Tzimisce commit to humanity, how to measure them…?"

"They serve me and that's the end of it."

"Well, that I find quite interesting. You see, my dearest friend is a Harbinger of Skulls." He said, "And he taught me a lot about the inner workings of Necromancy. The Cappadocian Clan, the one you robbed of power, created the Discipline, and the three clans that have it today are rumored to be connected to the Clan of Death. Samedi are proficient with rotting and deteriorating. They excel at using skeleton soldiers. Nagaraja get their wraiths and specters from the Shadowlands. And you…" He narrowed his eyes, "Giovanni usually have to steal the wraiths and specters they use from living…or…I should say once living beings…so…perhaps we have more in common than we thought. We both steal lives in exchange for material."

"Are you suggesting that I have a place in the Sabbat?"

"No. Heavens not, Cedric would not be a fan of the idea…and…for that matter, neither would I." He said, "Because the Tremere also wormed their way into power the same way your clan did, using my clan as an experiment…so it would be much too hypocritical of me to allow a filthy Giovanni to join my Sabbat."

"And I would rather die than work for a filthy Tzimisce."

"As you wish." Lafayette dove for him, but with the ghosts swarming around him, it was hard to get a hit in. All he had to do was flesh craft a few more vital areas, and Giuseppe would be as good as dead.

Unfortunately, the ghosts more or less covered Giuseppe's escape. Lafayette flinched as he was slashed by the mother and children wielding swords. They didn't do a hideous amount of damage, as Lafayette's skin was much thicker than most Kindred's, but nonetheless, they provided the Giovanni with an escape route. Lafayette huffed, this Giovanni nuisance was going to be a bit more difficult than he had expected.

"Your ID, sir?"

A slight pause as he ruffled through the dozens of pockets he had.

Chester had many IDs. There was his from his first college, reading in bold confident letters, 'CHESTER MONTGOMERY, MICROBIOLOGY'. Twenty. There was his other college, less bold, a little less expensive, 'Chester Montgomery, Ethology'. Twenty-eight. There was his final and most expensive title, 'CHESTER MONTGOMERY, Biology Major'. Twenty-nine.

And then there was his Chemistry ID. Twenty-four. His Chemist ID. Eighteen. His Ecology ID. Twenty-two.

This officer looked like the first type, anyhow, so he prattled around for his microbiology pocket, briefly glimpsing at the little plastic card before he handed it over.

The officer looked at it before he handed it back, "Right. Well, uh…you carry on your day, Dr. Montgomery."

"Thank you, sir." He spoke as quickly as he walked. There was rarely any sense of leisure in his step. It was point A to B. Maybe if he knew he was being watched, he'd take his time. Act, 'natural'.

Why and how this client rigged up a police security guard was beyond him, but it was of no concern. Easily overpassed. Chester never found himself lacking in the social maneuvers department.

The goal was simple. Deliver the order to the client, take the reward, return and reap the rewards. As he walked down the corridor with cryptic flashing lights, he felt a presence in the room to the right of him and entered. Sure enough, there was the client.

He was sitting in an armchair, the room seemed to be quite comfortable, as opposed to the dank exterior of the hallway. A roaring fireplace, leather furniture, and the slightly warm body lying on the hearth, chopped up into a garbage bag to appear inconspicuous. One could see a hand print pressed up against the black plastic if they looked hard enough.

His dark eyes quickly darted over to the client. A man, mid-forties, rugged appearance. Light brown hair in Native American styled braids, tied back behind his head, his skin pale, his eyes were deep pits of coal. He had a muscular frame, and a round face, no defined cheekbones, really, but a jawline that he scratched at occasionally.

He was in a fur coat, too, which seemed a little too warm for the weather. Regardless, when the man spoke, there was a bit of an unidentifiable accent.

"Chemist?" He asked, his voice very low and gruff.

"Yes." Chester briefly eyed the bag, then turned back to the client, "Dinosaur?"

He gave a little grunt and a nod, holding a meaty hand out.

Chester handed him the cocaine he'd prepared that morning. 'Dinosaur' snatched it up with greed, tucking them into that coat and reaching for an open bottle of beer on the table. He motioned a hand to the bag on the hearth.

Overall, it was a painless transaction. Chester usually had guns aimed to his head, or armed security surrounding him. The client was usually very testy, way too talkative, and very argumentative. It was usually a performance of patience, stamina and communication triumph. Not tonight. This man hardly seemed to speak the language.

Chester snatched the bag, feeling the lingering warmth up against his legs through his lab coat, "Very well. We'll see each other again soon, I'm sure."

The man gave another grunt, staring into the fire.

Chester didn't hesitate to leave. He traveled to the back of the building for the emergency exit, but it was locked. His eyes flickered about before he turned over his shoulder.

He was a thin man. He'd fit through the window.

His slender fingers slipped underneath the little wooden frame before he slid the window up. Maybe he wouldn't fit. First he stuffed the bag through the gap, then squeezed himself through. His shoulders were caught briefly before a little twerk dislodged them.

Free to the crisp night air, he took the bag with him as he flipped open his phone and stood in the back alley. The air was crisp and silent for once. It made time feel like it was ticking faster.

"Hello?" A light voice sounded on the other end.

"Kasper. I need a ride."

"Oh, um, Chester, okay. You can call me Kipper."

"You're available?"

"Y-Yes. I'll be right there, just give me…a little while, where are you?"

Chester peered his head around, "Where I was a week ago." He knew an exact location would only confuse him.

"Um…okay, yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there. Five minutes."

Chester hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He combed his fingers through his hair and kept a close clutch on the body.

By the time Kipper arrived, the bag was cool to the touch. Chester got into the small sedan, tossing the bag in the back before he sat shotgun. Kipper gave him a particular look before Chester gave in and secured his seatbelt.

Clearly, Kipper had been in bed. He struggled to hold in a yawn.

Kipper was old. Maybe not, old, old, but late forties. He still looked like a child. Warm, round baby face, big blue eyes, messy dark hair, a full head, too. He'd be attractive if he was a woman that age, but for a man, it was a bit unsettling. Especially with how much his appearance linked to his mindset.

"What were you up to?" Kipper asked after his yawn.

He was scrawny, too. Maybe as thin as Chester. Chester assumed Kipper didn't eat enough, whereas his own excuse was his freakishly fast metabolism.

"Work." Chester left his answer simple.

"I'm sorry, I always forget, where was it you worked?"

He never forgot. Kipper had a great memory. It was just constantly pulled apart and mashed back together in a different order. "Biosphere management."

"Ah…" Kipper nodded, a smile on his face lit up, which made him appear even younger and more naïve, "You and I are more similar than I'd thought then. I'm a gardener."

"Yes. I know." His foot started tapping, he rested his arm on the arm rest, his head on his fist, like some sort of profound figure.

Kipper struggled to rebound from that as quickly as he could have. "What's the industry like nowadays?"

"It's seen better days." The earth, he meant. But, the industry got better and better the longer people worked on it. But they started fighting a war against themselves a little too late to win anything. Maybe prolong the inevitable.

"What's in the bag?" Kipper asked, his eyes glimpsing briefly to the garbage bag in the back.

"Recycling I found on the way back." Chester never emoted once during the conversation. He continued to stare outside.

"Oh, that's nice. Yeah, sometimes the fields get cluttered with pollution and, it's not even mine. It just washes down from the storms. That sea air carries it right over."

Chester found himself drowned in idle small talk, chirping only small responses until they made it to the farm. They both got out, Chester bringing with him his award. Kipper shrugged on a light blue jacket that likely belonged to his wife, "You're staying here for the night?"

Chester gave a little nod, looking around for someone.

"Alright. You take care then, Chester. Goodnight."

Another nod sent Kipper off. Chester walked around the side of the building to see her, a smile on his face, for the first time of the evening.

Something about seeing his regnant sitting on a cask, cleaning the barrel of a sniper rifle just made his night.

Her figure was the ideal hourglass any woman sought, but few could come across. Most of her weight seemed balanced by muscular thighs and hips, rather than broad shoulders or a heavy head. An ideal form for combat, especially any with firearms.

Overall, her body was comprised of lithe muscle, in all the right places. Her dark brown hair landed just above her shoulders in a lob, with bangs on her forehead as well.

And then there was her face. Her eyes were squinted as she looked up at Chester in the light. A very clearly defined jawline, maybe not the ideal feminine image, but her cheekbones were. Her lips were thin, eyelashes long, framing luminescent, marble-like eyes.

Maybe that's why she was named what she was.

She swept some hair behind an ear and spoke in a deeper monotone, a drab sound. Like she was constantly unimpressed. Very bored and disappointed with everything. "Chester. You're back."

"I am." He tugged on the bag in his arms. He never carried things by himself. He hated it. He usually asked for his regnant to let someone else carry it for him.

"The transaction went without a hitch?" She got off of her barrel, brushing off her legs and picking up her other firearm, a lovely light machine gun.

"Smooth as your vitae…" He stepped forward.

"After you bring me the leftovers." Her cool tone pushed him back a step. "Get to work."

"Yes, ma'am." He smirked, before he turned around and made off as stoic as he was before. He silently slunk into the house and went into the basement.

Kipper didn't know there was a basement.

Chester headed down the stairs and reached a white table in the center that appeared to be an operating table. That is where he placed the garbage bag. Then came the surgical mask, and the latex gloves.

He snatched the scalpel and sliced the bag open neatly, gently removing every severed body part. He left the gooey liquids sit in the bag as he disposed them in the waste. Then he looked at what he was given.

An arm, two legs, a lower midsection and upper torso. And, the head, which was so mangled and brutalized, all he could tell was that the subject was a man.

Chester started with the torso. He pressed his hands against the ribcage and pushed in, waiting to hear every rib crack. Once they did, he sliced a neat incision down from the top to the bottom and reached in, opening the chest like a cardboard box to reveal a slew of organs.

The man who was hogtied in the back screamed into the rag tied around his mouth. He knew he would be next, and he wouldn't have the luxury of a painless operation, like what was left of this man.

Chester then brought over two coolers. Cooler one was for organs. Organs that could be sold, if salvageable. He had let the body run a little cool, so he wasn't really sure if they would hold up. Cooler two was for flesh.

Lumi smudged some dirt on her cheek as she swiped away cleaning agent from her hair. It had been a while since she really attended to all her weapons, rather than just the silenced sniper rifle. The other guns cried her name to her in her sleep, and she missed them a little too.

She sat back on her barrel and let the gun gently lay on the ground with the others as she looked up at the stars. How long had it been since she met Kipper? Twenty years? He was getting old and, she wasn't.

Even before her Embrace, which, wasn't consented upon in the slightest, she felt like their relationship weighed heavily on his adoration for her, and her tolerance of him. She stretched her arms and stood up, pulling on a pair of thick leather gloves and hoisting up her bolt-action rifle, perching it on her shoulder as she aimed at little clumps of grass in the distance.

Chester's crude comments to her never hurt. They were almost reinvigorating. She knew Chester's screws were screwed a little loose, and he tended to be a little psychopathic, even without the help of her blood. But the way he treated her made her feel like a woman. It made her feel young and alive. Desirable.

Sure, Kipper attempted to fill this need for her. It had to stop when she was Embraced. She couldn't say she missed it either. Being with him in a bedroom situation was almost painful. It was pity sex, at most. He was just so innocent, so careless, so…

So bland.

She fired at a clump, watching the dust spill into the air. She brought the gun down past her shoulder and reloaded. Kipper had been asking her why she'd been staying up so late for twenty years now, and she'd still been denying him.

At least Chester was just more in tuned with the moon and the stars rather than the sun and blue sky. He seemed to live in the shadows, even when she met him as kine.

She wasn't attracted to Chester, though. Sure, he was an attractive man, but she wasn't interested in his type. She loved his hair, and his personality was certainly…unique. But he lacked a heart. He saw the world as a planet rather than a place, people as living beings rather than life. His perspective fascinated her a bit, at least, enough for her to indulge upon.

Her shoulders trembled as she felt her anxiety quake beneath her. She forced herself to relax. She had plenty of money. Lumi had always been a little cleverer than the other boys and girls she had met as a child, and same for the men and women she knew growing up. They viewed this intelligence as outlandish, and never really accepted her, so she veered off into her own direction.

As a Kindred, this path took her on three planes. Having a ghoul who was loyal and crazy enough to produce and sell any sort of drug to anyone who requested, in return for a body, (dead or alive). That said body would be taken back and harvested for valuables.

This path then branched into two more directions. The organs were harvested and sold to the black market for cash, so she could afford ammo, utilities, blood, (which she mostly got from Chester anyway, since he loved it so much), and the other branch, which was flesh.

Lumi wasn't an idiot. She was in when others were out. She knew there was a Nagaraja presence in the city of L.A. An expensive presence. As an Independent, she didn't care much for the whole concept of Camarilla or Sabbat, but she did care for sustainability. For cash flow. She wasn't a miser, but she did constantly fear homelessness, losing her house, land, husband or animals. So, the flesh was going to be sold to the Nagaraja, if all went to plan. They still had to gather enough, it was their third week of the business, and Lumi knew flesh had to be eaten in pounds. That was hard to gather without organs.

Regardless, the plan seemed to be working. Tomorrow evening was the night she told Chester he would be visiting, meeting that Nagaraja and hopefully, setting up a decent trade. She let her shoulders fall as a light sigh passed her lips. This was all so much for her.

And then, a slender pair of hands grasped onto her shoulders and started to rub, "Take it all in."

"Please, do not touch me with your dirty hands."

"It doesn't matter, does it? It should smell appealing to you."

"It smells like fecal matter."

"Some of it is."

"I know."

"Would you still like me to stop?"

"Very much."

Chester moved his hands away and motioned to the coolers, "Set and ready to go."

"Did you handle the other body as well?"

"Not yet."

"I'd like to you to do that before I get up tomorrow."

"Shouldn't be an issue." He took his glasses off, snapped them into a folded position and tucked them into his pocket. She didn't understand those types who only used their glasses sometimes and not all the time, but she supposed he knew best. It was his eyes. "Drink?"

She nodded and held a hand out.

He paused, "Must we be so formal, Lumine?" He smiled.

"Yes."

He chuckled softly and placed his wrist in her palm. She brought it to her mouth and bit in. He showed absolutely no signs of anything. She licked her lips and bit into her own wrist after that, drawing the blood for him to drink.

Logically, she would let him feed first, and then feed from him. But she certainly didn't want Chester to feel ill. She knew he would show no signs of it, but it would rattle around some of those systems in his head.

He brought it to his lips and drank. She looked up towards the windows of their bedroom, and wondered what Kipper would think of being a ghoul. Maybe she'd ghoul him and see if he'd notice.

Or maybe she'd wait until he died of old age.

He'd still notice that she wasn't aging eventually. There was only so many times she could use Dementation before he was lost beyond return.

She hadn't noticed Chester moved himself away from her wrist. She could see his eyes were dilated, and his cheeks were just a touch redder than usual. Her blood was like an actual drug to him, but he had a fantastic poker face. He licked his lips a few times before he asked, "Would you like me to tend to the other body?"

"Wait a few hours." She licked her wound away, "I want Kipper to be asleep."

"Right." His head bobbed, she could hear his heart still racing from the drink. His mind must've been spinning. "Maybe we should purchase a new property. Or build a new house on this one."

It wasn't a terrible idea. Of course, Chester wouldn't help. He'd say 'we' when he meant her. He had absolutely no muscular composure. It was highly amusing to her, watching him lug bodies back, trying to act like he wasn't struggling at all. At least being ghouled helped a touch.

"Kipper wouldn't understand why." She crossed her arms over her chest, "He'd be confused."

"You have the controls to his head." Chester said, locking his eyes on her. When he wasn't being a giant perv, he had the stare of a hawk, something piercing yet egotistical.

Her gaze, meanwhile, despite her attitude, was always clairvoyant and soothing. "I don't want him to develop Dementia."

"It's too late for that." There was no foreboding tone, or bitterness, sarcasm in his voice. It was a fact, stated as such. It didn't hurt as much if there was some sort of tone to it. "He'll die in the next fifty years regardless. He shouldn't be a variable."

Chester would be a better Kindred than she was. She still followed her soul and her heart, the stars in the sky guided her more than any thought in her head. She gripped her machine gun so she could feel safer. She closed her eyes and let a sigh slip through her lips, "I know." She said softly.

"If I were you, I'd look for someone else. Another Kindred? A ghoul?"

She knew what he was implying. "I don't want you, Chester."

He seemed offended and stepped back, "Who said I wanted that?" He asked, confusing her considerably. He always flirted with her, and how he was saying he didn't want her? He changed the subject before she could dig in, "Clearly he's a window to your humanity."

She lifted her gun up again, "I'm going to go hunting."

He didn't really get the clue. Or maybe he did. She could never tell. He turned around and headed inside.

Hunting was something Lumi did for a living, when she was alive. She did it to this day, occasionally. It helped her business anyhow. She wasn't too good with people, so why not hunt them?

She got in her truck and started driving, following the stars in the sky rather than the signs on the street.

Just another normal night, she thought to herself, aiming the barrel of her gun out the window as she spotted a figure in the distance. Maybe next time, she'd think about bringing Chester along. It could be awfully lonely without a husband at her side, faithfully worshipping her every move.

She missed being alive. The first time she was wooed by a man. The first time she lost her virginity to a man who treated her like a china doll. The times they held hands to go to dinner because he was afraid to lose her. The times she taught him how to feed her animals, and he taught her how to sow seeds. When life was fresh and quiet, she didn't rely on hunting as much when she met him. She didn't feel like she was about to tip off the edge and shatter into a thousand pieces.

As she brought the dead body into the back of her truck, she started to sob. Why did that have to go away? It wasn't bliss. It wasn't ideal, it was horribly boring and absolutely tedious, but she would rather that over her life now.

Anything but this. She supposed all she could do was pray for something better.

A/N: SigmaFang wants to ship Chester with Harper but I think they're completely incompatible…well, anyway, thanks for reading!