The rest of the day Sam spent relaxing as best he could. He hummed in content as he brushed his teeth vigorously with the toothbrush and toothpaste Marko had bought him. Mint. The best shit ever.

He followed up with a nice hot bath in the fancy clawfoot tub, reveling in the clean water that soaked his skin. There were different shampoos and soaps Sam had found stashed under the sink, so he collected the ones he was interested in and enjoyed their various smells. Some were more manly scents that mimicked colon, some were more clean-smelling, and then there were a few more…girly ones. Sam liked them all and took turns sniffing each of them, but the lavender one actually made it into his hair. Mint and flowers—always his top choices. The other options were lovely too, but in Sam's opinion, they only smelled nice on other people. He just wasn't a colon-and-musk kind of person.

After over an hour of soaking and scrubbing, Sam dried off and slipped on his new shirt, a long and beige button-up with a little collar he folded down. He was grateful for the long sleeves; they were already keeping him much warmer than the clothes he brought along from Arizona ever would.

As he pulled on the rest of his ensemble, he wondered what he would do for the next few hours until night fell. Jeez, he couldn't come up with something to pass the time on his second day here, and apparently Marko had nothing to do all day every day for (most likely) years. Holy boring.

Well, might as well go back to where Michael was sleeping and rest up some more. That's what Marko had advised, right? Eat and sleep before Michael's "initiation." Whatever the hell that entitled.

As Sam laid back on the bed's plush sheets, it would have been easy to fall asleep again; all he would have to do is close his eyes. Michael was knocked out cold on the floor, the house was silent, the room was dark, and Sam was (for the most part) under the safety cushion of the sun. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how refreshed and relaxed he felt, he couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. He laid there, mind buzzing, for a good hour. It wasn't clear to him when he actually fell asleep; one minute he was deeply pondering what he and Michael were going to do, the next he was opening his eyes to a grey-hued room. He checked to make sure Michael wasn't awake yet and rolled onto his back again, sighing to himself. This was going to be an interesting night. As long as it didn't involve Michael slaying Sam as some kind of brotherhood induction thing… That would be the worst scenario, and it probably wouldn't happen (right?), so that already meant the night wasn't going to be completely horrible…

What the hell do they have planned?

As soon as Michael and Sam entered the living room, Max started rounding up the others. Marko and Paul were the next ones to arrive, followed by the dark-haired guy Sam still didn't have a name on. Hopefully after tonight he would have a better grasp on that—same with the other blondie he had hardly seen around.

"Where's David?" Max asked them. Paul shrugged and Marko lifted his eyebrows in a don't-look-at-me expression. Max looked to the third of the trio expectantly.

Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome (respectively) crossed his arms over his chest and deadpanned, "He's coming."

"Good. Excellent. All right, then." Max smiled as he turned around in a circle, glancing at everyone in the room. When Max laid his eyes on Paul, the blonde vampire raised his hand and flexed his fingers near his shoulder. Marko, who was standing at his right, flashed him a questioning look. "Yes, Paul?" Max asked.

"What about Star?"

"I've already spoken with her; she won't be joining us tonight," he replied dismissively. The three vampires lined up along the wall each exchanged confused and tentative glances, and at their apprehension Sam looked to Michael for some kind of explanation. But Michael was just as lost as Sam was.

It was then the platinum blonde strolled soundlessly into the living room, decked in leather, of course. What else was a badass vampire to wear?

A wide smile split across Max's face. "Now that everyone we need is here—we can begin."

Sam swallowed nervously and shuffled closer to Michael. Please don't make him kill someone…

The obnoxious ringing of a phone cut through the tense anticipation in the living room. "Excuse me," Max said apologetically as he exited the room to answer wherever the phone was wired. The ringing stopped a few seconds after he left and Sam fidgeted in place as he waited.

"Ah, damn," said the dark-haired one. "I was so looking forward to this." The three vampires standing near him chuckled and snorted. Sam couldn't make out the conversation that was going on in the kitchen, but of course they could. A few moments later, Max slowly strolled back into the living room, the most contrived Sam had ever seen him.

"Do we have any first aid left?"

"We might," replied the platinum blonde.

"Check, please." He promptly left and Max appeared to be mulling something over as he scanned the other faces in the room. "Dwayne, take Michael somewhere away from the house for an hour." The dark-haired one—Dwayne, apparently—waited for Michael to take a step forward first. They met each other at the arched entrance to the living room, coming from different sides of the room, and Sam watched them disappear around the corner. He fidgeted even more, now that Michael had left his side with surprising willingness. What was up with that?

Max weighed the remaining three people. He gave a vague point towards Marko and said, "I might need you," but he was staring at Sam. "Paul…" He struggled to give him the best instructions.

Paul waited, but when it took more than a few seconds, Marko piped in with, "He should stay." Max flashed him a curious glance but nodded.

"Yes," he agreed, and then looked to Sam again, as did Paul and Marko.

"What's going on?"

"Someone needs our help," Max explained vaguely. He looked as if he was about to add something to that—or give Sam directions on what to do—when the vampires' heads snapped in the same direction and there was a rough pounding on the front door. They moved so quickly Sam didn't even see them go; one minute they were standing in front of him, the next he could hear voices coming from the foyer. He trailed in the direction of the noise with uncertainty, peeking around the archway of the living room and watching the scene unfold mere feet from where he was standing.

Around the cluster of people he could see a man standing in the doorway with a streak of blood across his face. He was either winded or panicking—Sam couldn't tell. That is, until he saw what the man was carrying.

The limp, bloodied body was passed off to Paul. It was a she, judging by the long hair and slender form. Her blue shirt was dark with blood and clung to her stomach, and her arms and chest were also covered in the red substance.

Panicking. The man was definitely panicking.

Through all his hysteria, Max invited him into the house and started calmly asking him questions—questions the man didn't seem capable of answering very well. He kept stuttering and saying "I don't know" and "Please help her."

Marko disappeared briefly as Paul carried the woman down the hall, walking past Sam several feet and turning left into the dining room. Max and the man were right on his heels, and Sam followed in a daze.

Marko was laying a blanket down over the nice mahogany table and Paul gingerly placed the dying woman on top of the thick sheet. Her head hung to the side, eyes closed. She had smudges of blood on her face, just like the tops of her arms, but that wasn't the source of the bleeding; the most blood concentration seemed to be centered on her hands, stomach, and tops of her legs. The dining room entrance was wide, so Sam pressed himself against the left side of it and hung back. Out of the corner of his eye, David (Sam was pretty impressed with himself that he had been right on the money when he thought the blonde's name started with a D; usually he struggled with names) rushed in, carrying a few wads of gauze and some bandages.

"This is all we have," he said as he laid the assortment out on the table.

"You want me to change her?" Max asked. He felt the girl's pulse, first at her neck and then at her wrist. He turned the red wrist in his hand and furrowed his brows.

"Yes," panted the shaking, frantic man. "Please. She's nearly dead."

Max examined up the girl's arm for a second longer. "These are deep."

"Obviously!"

"And self-inflicted." The man's eyes darted from the woman to Max. His fingers curled against the wood of the table. "What's your name?"

"L…Leo."

"Leo," Max began slowly and deliberately, a stark contrast to Leo's intensely jittery composition, "if she wished to die, I can't change her."

"She didn't! She—she wouldn't." He exhaled sharply and his hands left their scraping on the table in exchange for pulling on his hair. That only last a brief moment, however; his arm came back down and gestured to the dying woman in front of him. "What do you mean you can't?!" His voice cracked. "Max, please. She's not awake to say no—you can."

"I won't," Max said firmly but gently. "She would become my creation, my responsibility, Leo, and I will not create an unstable vampire. I'm sorry."

Paul, Marko and David stood around the table in silence, their eyes averted from Max, Leo, and the woman. There was a long moment where no words were spoken. Sam took one look at Leo's face and turned away. He walked back into the living room and sat down numbly on the couch. His lips were pressed in a tight, thin line in an effort to keep himself together. But it was no use—several tears fell anyways.

He sat there for a long time, staring off into space. There were a few more things said in the dining room, but Sam paid little attention to them. He heard footsteps, and then Paul was taking a seat next to him. The tall vampire sighed and leaned backwards into the plush cushions. "Damn." Sam was aware of Paul bringing a bottle of beer up to his lips, but Sam never looked directly at him.

"Why couldn't Leo do it?" Sam asked through a thick voice. That had been one of the questions floating through his mind since he sat down in here.

"'Cause he's not the guy in charge—Max is."

"So what would have happened if he tried?"

"Well, a couple things could've happened. Leo isn't the Head Vampire of Santa Carla. If a regular vamp gives a human blood, it could do nothing, or it could make them crazy—or they could die. Either way, there wasn't anything he could do. That's why he came here."

"Would Max have really done it? If she wasn't suicidal, I mean."

"I don't know." Paul shrugged. "Maybe."

Sam didn't like the thought of Max turning any human who showed up injured at his doorstep. At all. You can't say yes to making someone a vampire just because they're loved and will be missed if they leave. It was like playing God. Sam hoped that if it came down to it, Max wouldn't do something like that—but he had changed Michael, someone he barely knew…why? Why had he done it? If it was to save Michael's life, well, Sam couldn't say he was displeased, but if Michael ended up resenting this life, then there was no point in extending his stay on Earth.

Sam fleetingly wondered if Paul had consented to being a vampire. He couldn't picture the tall blonde willingly jumping into a life of killing people. Not to judge them or anything; maybe they did it nicely. No, that didn't make much of a difference—killing was killing. Who would want that?
People willing to exchange their values for immortality.

True, inner monologue. True.

Does Max value human life?

It was something Sam wanted to know, being, you know, human and all. Speak of the devil and he comes, though, just like clockwork. Max slowly lowered himself into his recliner and rubbed his forehead. "Two dead mates in such a short amount of time."

Sam's eyes widened and he almost blurted if Leo was dead somehow, too, but then he remembered the vampire that had attacked him. Neil? He had been killed, and his mate had gotten away.

Mate. Kind of an animalistic term.

"Today is no day for celebration." He spoke mostly to himself, but both Paul and Sam listened intently. "The initiation will be tomorrow instead." He looked genuinely exhausted, and for a second, Sam felt a twinge of sympathy for him, for having to tell someone he couldn't save their loved one.

For a second.

Hey! Look at me, spicing it up a bit by putting the notes underneath the chapter. Surprised you, didn't I?

But the only reason I'm putting it down here is because I wanted to let you guys know that I have chapters fourteen through seventeen planned, and if all goes well, those should come out pretty smoothly! And just so you know, I think the initiation will be two chapters long - just because you deserve it to be longer. ;)

And because I want to leave you hanging as much as possible throughout the story. Okay. Anyways. *leaves cookies for everyone down in this region*