"What are we gonna do?" Worry crept into Sam's voice. He felt like he probably shouldn't be unnerved by the situation because Marko and Paul were calm, but the possibility of being dragged off into a dark alley and eaten by a vampire was something he was naturally going to fret over. Maybe Paul and Marko were forgetting that Sam was only human, or maybe he needed to put more trust in them. They hadn't ditched him, after all, and from what he could gather, this was partly his fault. Well, not consciously his fault; he couldn't help that vampires seemed to think he smelled sweet or whatever it was about him that drew them in.

"You could schmooze someone into giving us a ride," Paul suggested to Marko. And holy hell was that the wrong thing to say, because Marko looked at him like he had just suggested they sell themselves into prostitution.

"I am not doing that."

"Why not? It won't hurt anyone."

"No." And that was that. Sam was highly confused, but he was afraid to ask; he didn't want his head bitten off if he did. A moment of silence passed as they walked down a quiet, nearly empty street. "We don't have to do that," Marko went on, much more relaxed after some recollection of his thoughts.

Damn, it's getting cold out here. Sam rubbed his arms for warmth. "We're not walking the whole way, are we?" The prospect made him shiver; he would surely freeze if they did.

Marko snorted. "No. We're not."

They stopped walking abruptly and the street became eerily silent, minus Sam's shaky breathing. He looked to the left, where there was a black, seemingly endless alley. Another chill ran up Sam's spine, this time only partly due to the cold. "How many vampires in Santa Carla did you say there were?"

"Seventy-six, including Michael. There should be, at least."

"It's kinda hard to keep track," Paul added. Sam watched in astonishment as the tall blonde removed his leather jacket and offered it to Sam. Without the black material, he looked exposed in his black t-shirt. Sam had to remind himself that Paul wasn't affected by the temperature because he was probably just as cold naturally. "Here," Paul prompted when Sam hesitated.

Well, if he insists…

"Thanks." He took the offered jacket and promptly threw it on. It was big on him, of course—long. It reached the middle of Sam's thighs, because Paul was so tall. At least the man was thin enough that when Sam pulled the material tight around his body, it didn't leave a big gap for more air to come in. Just as Sam had presumed, the inside of the jacket was cold; if any regular person had been wearing it, it would've already been warmed up for Sam. But that was okay—it would only take a few minutes to start maintaining heat in it.

"I'll come back to get you," Paul told Marko, but from Sam's perspective, it sounded more like, "I'll come back to get you if you want, and if you'll be okay here."

Marko rolled his eyes lightly. "Don't even bother." He cracked a small smile. "I'll meet you there."

"Are you sure?"

Marko shoved him. It looked odd, Sam thought, because of their height difference. But what irked him a little about it was how Marko looked like he hadn't put any effort in, yet Paul had to take a step back to balance himself.

If a vampire that small could knock someone like Paul off his feet without even trying, then Sam didn't want to think about what could happen if one actually tried to utilize its strength. He imagined it would look something like a five-foot-nothing girl lifting a china cabinet clean over her head.

Sam shook those thoughts away and focused on the current situation at hand. "Where are we going?" he asked, the question directed more towards Paul than Marko.

Paul grinned. "Up." Sam furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to ask—yet again—what exactly was going on. But Paul interrupted with, "I'll give you a head start."

The fuck? Sam glanced back at Marko, who smiled sweetly, took one deliberate step forward, and then in a flash he was gone. Sam felt a gust of wind, but no Marko. It was like he had disappeared into the abyss of the alley.

Um.

"What…?"

"Come on." Paul gestured for Sam to come closer. The younger blonde hesitated, but—even though he hated to admit it—he trusted that Paul wouldn't do anything to harm him. After all, the vampire had had plenty of opportunities to do so. Paul extended a hand to Sam, and the seer slipped his small hand into Paul's.

Sam's breathing hitched in his throat when Paul gripped his hand firmly and, in one swift, blurry movement, turned around and pulled Sam onto his back. Sam's eyes widened and he instinctively wrapped his arms around Paul's neck, his legs coming around the vampire's waist.

And then they were cascading up the wall, Paul pulling them up with Spider Man-like skill as easily as swimming up a light stream. Sam's eyes were nearly popped out of his head by the time they got to the top of the brick building, and he though his subconscious told him he was squeezing Paul's neck very tightly, he didn't loosen his hold.

"I got you," Paul said with a laugh when Sam's breathing escalated in intensity to the point of hyperventilation.

"Wait," Sam breathed, but his request went ignored. They took off again, this time into the chilly, January air.

It was like Michael was seeing himself in the mirror for the first time. He couldn't remember what he had looked like before; the image was too far away for him to grasp. Maybe if he had a photograph, he'd remember. But he didn't. All he had was a reflection of his current self.

He was pale, and not the kind that meant he didn't go outside very much. He looked ashen—sickly, almost. Sickly, or just terrified. But he didn't feel frightened. Not at the moment.

Michael slowly and deliberately buttoned up his shirt all the way to his collarbone. The shirt didn't belong to him, but he didn't know whose it really was; Max had given it to him and simply said, "This is yours now."

Think of the devil.

Max came to stand behind Michael and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You should rest tonight. Tomorrow you will eat."

Eat. As if they were having meat loaf for dinner.

"Actually…" A bright smile broke across Max's face. "I think it would be nice if we all ate together tomorrow. Good bonding time, don't you think?"

Yeah. Definitely.

"Listen, Michael, I know this is a hard adjustment for you, but we've all pulled through it ourselves. You will too. It just takes some time."

"How much time?" he asked bitterly. "How long until I can be around my own brother without having to hold my breath?"

"Only time will tell that, Michael," Max explained gently. "Until then, Sam is as much a part of this family as you are and no harm will come to him. I promise you."

Those words made Michael feel more relaxed than he wanted to admit. Max's promises were like honey—good enough to cause Michael's shoulders to relax. He didn't shake out of Max's touch, and didn't want to.

He hated it.

Michael cast his gaze down, because that was all he could do.

"Can I see him?" He winced because he actually asked, and without conscious thought. It was like his mouth had taken over for a moment to make sure that his words would please Max. Ugh.

"You can see him when he returns." Max dropped his arm and Michael suppressed a sigh. The older gentleman strolled to the other side of the room. He stopped in front of a chest-high dresser and opened up a little box sitting on top of it. "I do hope Paul returns my car in good condition," he chatted absent-mindedly. "You're welcome to borrow it whenever you need to, Michael, but some of my boys…" He shook his head. "Some of them are more responsible than the rest." Max pulled something out of the box and smiled to himself. "I can't wait for you to meet everyone. Officially, I mean. I think they'll come to like you. It's rare for vampires to get along, you know." He turned around finally and locked eyes with Michael, who hadn't moved from his place in front of the mirror.

"I've already met them," Michael deadpanned. And he had no interest in getting to know any of them.

"Technically, yes," Max agreed. "But now you're with me, just like they are, and you need to meet them again. Officially," he clarified. "You'll find that vampire introductions are different from how humans greet each other."

"Great," the new vampire grumbled. "There's no blood involved, right?"

Max chuckled. "No, Michael. There is no blood involved."

Good. He didn't feel like exchanging more blood anytime soon.

At the thought of the crimson substance, Michael's mouth watered and his throat ached. He swallowed thickly. Max must have noticed, because he assured Michael again that they would feed tomorrow. Together, apparently, as a "family."

Max's definition of family was strange.

When they finally reached Max's house and Paul let Sam down, the blonde's knees gave out and Paul had to brace him so he wouldn't fall. Sam was smiling like an idiot, feeling giddier than ever. That flight had been terrifying at first, but he had quickly gotten used to the feeling of flying through the open night sky, and before long, he'd been enjoying it like nothing else.

Sam gained his footing again and didn't need the support any longer, but he still wobbled and stumbled a little when he walked. He clambered to the steps and threw himself across them, gripping the railing tightly.

"You okay there?" Paul laughed and sat down next to Sam on the steps. Sam was vaguely able to nod.

"Did we beat Marko?"

"Yeah. He can't fly so he just ran," he explained with a grin.

Sam sat up straight, mouth opening in disbelief. "He's running here?" That was quite the haul…

"It's okay, Sam—it's not like he ever gets tired." Paul smirked knowingly.

Sam wondered what that was supposed to mean. Did vampires never sleep? Were they never fatigued—ever? But he didn't get a chance to ask because the front door opened behind them and the two boys whipped their heads around to see who it was.

Max.

"Hello, Sam," he greeted, and then his gaze shifted to Paul. "Paul," he said slowly. "Where is my car?"

Paul had a deer-caught-in-headlights expression on his face and Sam suppressed a snicker. Then Paul smiled bashfully, looked away for a second, and began, "It's a funny story, really."

"Paul…"

"So I was taking a shit, and…" Sam nearly died. He shoved a fist against his mouth to keep himself quiet, because Max was not happy right now and he didn't want to be labeled as some kind of accomplice for laughing. "…I was reading all of the phone numbers on the door and wrote them all down, first. Of course. And then there was this guy who wrote 'Mike was here' and it was just too tempting so I drew an arrow and wrote 'Mike has a small dick' and then I dropped the marker and had to pick it up, but I got ink on the floor and I tried to clean it up, but then I remembered that's how you get AIDS so I didn't, and then there was no toilet paper and I was in there for like, fifteen minutes. And long story short, I dropped the keys in the toilet. I'm really sorry."

Max was quiet, and Sam glanced over his shoulder at the man to see how he was accepting this shitty story (no pun intended).

He wasn't.

"Don't lie to me, Paul," Max chastised. "Where is my car?" he asked again, this time stressing the question differently.

Paul blurted, "I left the keys in the parking lot and it was gone when we came out – I don't know what you want me to say!"

"That is what I wanted you to say. The truth." Max sighed. "What am I going to do with you, Paul?"

"Nothing. I'm very low maintenance."

"Yet you require constant supervision." He sighed again. "Tomorrow you will look all over the city for my car, and you will search every night until you find it. Is that understand?"

"Yep." Paul mock saluted him.

"Why don't you come inside?" Max asked Sam. "Michael would like to see you."

Sam completely sobered up at the mention of his brother. He jumped to his feet and gave a little goodbye-for-now wave to Paul, who nodded in acknowledgement. Max stepped to the side to allow him through, and after sucking in a deep breath, Sam walked through the threshold.