The only reason I'm leaving an author's note is to share my love for David's voice. Today I realized that Kiefer's voice is the most awesome-est of all other voices and it's the reason for 90% of my attraction to him. It makes me melt. Actually, it makes me feel like I'm going to explode every time I hear it - and then, once my insides are all over the place (because I exploded, remember), then I do believe my organs would melt, seep onto the floor, and form a permanent portrait of his face. And my bones would collect to make a little makeshift stick body for him, but with abs and biceps, because Kiefer isn't complete without that. And at my shrine, there would be a recording of all the lines he ever said in his movies that would play over and over again. But don't worry, the afterlife has WiFi and Microsoft Word, so I'll still be able to update with only a handful of grammar errors (but hopefully none of them involve misspelling cologne as colon and thus accidentally making Sam smell colons instead of nice shampoo).

Anyways.

I last updated yesterday. I think I deserve cookies. Lots of them, because it's also my birthday soon. :3

Max's statement took a moment to sink in, and when it did, it hit Michael in the gut like a ton of bricks. He couldn't find his voice—or breath—at first, but as soon as they both returned, from wherever they had gone, his words were low and quivered with rage. "You lied to me."

"I did no such thing." The calm in Max's voice only made Michael's anger broil further.

"You said there would be no blood!"

"Yes, I did—but I was merely answering to your thoughts, not your words."

"What?" Michael's eyes narrowed and his hands formed fists. Fucking vampires…

"You asked if there would be blood," Max explained, "but you were thinking more along the lines of your own blood. And I assure you, there won't be any of that tonight."

"You bastard—"

"Please, Michael, let me finish." And just like that, Michael cut off and didn't say anything else. He tried to speak, but he choked on his next word, physically unable to make a sound until Max allowed him to again. He looked to his left, down at Sam, who was staring up at him with a mixture of horror and pity. It was a heart-clenching look, and one that Michael hoped he never received again. But that was unlikely, because he was going to kill someone tonight if—when—Max ordered it and Sam would probably never look at him the same way again.

"The pecking order of this coven used to go by age, but after the last addition, I decided the length of loyalty should be the determinant of that. It wouldn't be fair to Marko for you to be a step above him just because you were my next creation after Paul," Max went on, still speaking to Michael as if the brunette was listening intently and not choking on his own tongue. "David was my first creation," he informed both Michael and Sam, "and therefore should hold the respect of both of you." Sam swore he saw David smirk and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "He is followed by Star, then Dwayne, Paul and Marko. And following Marko is you, Michael, and Sam."

So that was the girl's name. Star. Sam had heard that name before—several times, actually. In his vision while he was in the bathtub and last night at the almost-initiation, for sure. If there were other times, he couldn't remember. From across the fire pit, Star locked eyes with Sam and he froze. Her gaze only lasted a split second, but it felt much longer, and when she finally turned her head and refocused on Max, Sam relaxed some.

Until his mind processed Max's last sentence.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said quickly. "I am nota part of…of this." He did an awkward gesture with his hands to show that he meant this little circle/coven/vampire posse.

"After tonight you will be." Max smiled. "Once Michael's initiation is over, and I vouch for you, you will be with me and every vampires will know."

"Again—with you? You never told me what that even means."

"It means everyone within a hundred-mile radius of here will know who you are and who's protecting you, and you won't pose a danger to all of us every time we go somewhere with you," David replied sharply. "It's a hell of an offer, considering you're only a human. I would accept if I were you."

"I didn't ask you," Sam snapped, though he had to admit, that was probably more of an answer that he'd ever have gotten out of Max, who was already notorious for giving him answers that always raised even more questions.

"Anyways." Marko sighed in exasperation. "Can we please move on? I'm starving."

"Yes." Max smiled again and his gaze found a still-frozen Michael. "You can speak, Michael." The brunette exhaled sharply and then inhaled to say exactly what was on his mind, but before he got the chance, Max was ordering something else. "Leave this lot and don't come back until you have fed. David, go with him."

Michael's feet moved without his compliance. He walked right off the lot, like Max had told him to, and into the forest.

Max's house was positioned on the farthest limits of Santa Carla; it must be, because his house seemed very distant from all the city noise and the clutter of people. The house was positioned on a windy dead-end road and was surrounded by trees and very minimal neighbors. Perfect with a vampire's first hunt, if said vampire was a nervous wreck who had no experience in killing people, like Michael.

He wished with all his might to gain control of his body—not only his feet, but his thirst, which felt overpowering whenever the thought of blood came to mind.

The thought of murder, though, whether his thirst demanded it or not, made him sick to his stomach. But he had to—and he would—because Max told him to, and Max had complete control over him.

As Michael walked numbly through the dark forest, he tried to console himself by looking at one tiny plus side: this would be his first and last kill. Hopefully. Max had said they never actually kill humans, after all.

But could he ever erase it from his mind, even if it was just once?

In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs next to him. "So who's it gonna be, Michael? You got anyone in particular in mind?" Michael flashed David a look of disgust. "You can choose anyone, you know. That's the point of this. It's like a test."

"So I pass if I kill someone?" Michael asked stiffly.

"It's who you kill, not if you kill." David smirked. "But I suppose not killing anyone at all will fail you, too."

Michael snorted. "Yeah, well he didn't really give me that option."

"So what gender are you leaning towards?"

"How about what gender does Max want me to lean towards?" Michael snapped bitterly.

David shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I don't think any of us passed."

"Passed. Passed what? Why does it even matter then, if he doesn't do anything if you fail? How do you fail? I don't understand."

"I was kidding, you know. There is no pass or fail and he doesn't do anything if you fuck this up. But it's still a test."

Michael could suddenly make out a house in the distance; he was close enough to see that several lights were on and it was a little cape cod, with a short, wrap-around fence. And from within it, he could make out laughter. His mouth betrayed him by watering at the mere sound of people.

The next thing he knew, he was pushing open the front gate and stepping onto their lawn in a daze. David swiftly joined him but stayed back, outside of the fenced area. There was a large bay window, through which Michael could see two people sitting on a couch and watching TV. Two girls in pajamas, one with a bowl of popcorn laid out across her lap. He stared at them for a long time, drinking in the sight of them and trying to find the will to leave.

"You don't have to feed from them," David said from several feet behind him. "The city has over a half a million options."

A loud bark resonated through the icy air, and a large dog bounded around the side of the house. Michael leapt back but the dog stopped short when his metal chain reached its limit. It was a large dog—a boxer that looked driven mad by Michael's presence. It alternated between snarling, barking, and jerking forward against its chain, as if it was intent on tearing the vampire to shreds. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girls had looked up from their TV and popcorn and appeared to be questioning each other—probably on what the hell their dog was barking at. Someone else entered the room—a mother figure, most likely—and they exchanged words. He could hear exactly what they were saying, but he didn't pay attention to each word, because the gist was clear.

They were going to come outside. Of course they were; their dog was going ballistic and they were probably worried there was a wild animal outside. Michael panicked, looking from the window and back to the dog. He tried to shush it, but this only seemed to egg the dog on further.

"You didn't tell me you were an animal person."

"Help me, David!" Michael pleaded in a harsh whisper. "What do I do?"

"You better do something. Leave so the bitch'll shut up or, I don't know, be a vampire and attack. Your choice. Better hurry, though."

Michael growled in frustration. He could practically hear the girls' heartbeats as they all huddled around the front door, unlocking it and turning the knob. They were worried and one was even scared, so their pulses were quick and enticing. The door opened and a gust of wind brought their sweet smells to Michael's nose. He winced; it was like a stab to his morals to think of another person as a meal, and it physically pained him.

"Bruno?" one of the girls called. "Bruno, here boy!"

"Michael—" David began as a warning.

"Shut up!" And with a deep, indignant growl, Michael lunged.

"His choice of cuisine is very important," Max was informing Sam as a way of conversation. "It will tell me what kind of a vampire he'll be in his first years, and what I should expect. And, because this is his first kill and it's vampire tradition, whatever he brings back will be what we hunt tonight."

"What do you mean?"

"It means if he brings back a hot blonde, we each have to feed off one, too," Paul supplied helpfully with a grin.

Sam nodded. "And what if he doesn't kill anyone at all?" He was still clinging on to that hope—that Michael would come bursting through the trees, having fought off Max's powerful influence, and he would have no blood tainting his conscious. Wishful thinking, he told himself. But, for his brother's sake, he still hoped.

"Oh, he will," Max said lightly, with absolute certainty. "He must."

Sam looked down for several long moments, and began rocking back and forth on his heels to warm up his legs a little. When the silence was broken again, it was by the last person Sam had expected to speak—Star. The girl who hadn't said a thing since her small outburst from earlier.

"Why are you vouching for him?" she asked Max, her bell-like voice laced with irritation. "You've never tolerated family members before. Especially ones who know what we are."

"Because, sweetheart, he's not just any human—he's…different. Gifted." A wide smile split across Max's face. "I haven't encountered a gifted human in a long time. It's rather exciting."

Star seemed anything but enthralled. "Oh, really? And what can he do?" She made eye contact with Sam for the second time, and her cold gaze made him shrink a little on the inside.

Max looked towards Sam curiously, and it was then the blonde realized that Max still didn't know what Sam could do—only Paul and Marko did. He had expected them to blab about it to the others by now, so the fact that they didn't intrigued him. "Oh." Sam cleared his throat when it cracked. "I can, uh…" Oh my god, Star, stop staring at me like that… "Uh…I can…see the future?"

"Why are you asking me?" Star's voice was sharp.

"I mean…I can see the future." There. A solid statement.

Max's face lit up like a kid on Christmas. "A psychic?" he asked. He was so bewildered and fascinated that he sounded anxious. "How do your predictions come to you? Visions? Readings? Feelings?"

"Well…visions, mostly."

"And do these come true often?"

Sam had to pause there, and if Max had been sitting down, he'd have probably fallen off his chair. "Until recently, they've rarely actually happened."

"And what about recently?"

"I don't know… They're…random." He didn't want to tell Max about all his strange, new visions, or how some of them seemed to be like windows into what was happening concurrently; he was afraid of Max's overly zealous reaction as it was.

"Incredible! That's…oh, that's so intriguing, Sam. We must discuss it further in the future. You are the second gifted human I've ever met, and it's so rare you might be the last. I wonder what a transformation would do to your abilities. Marko, were your talents present while you were still human?"

Marko looked just as annoyed as Star. All eyes turned on him. Apparently this was something he hadn't been asked before, and everyone was curious. With a snort of disdain, he swiftly replied, "I'm not answering that."

From Marko's right, Paul asked, "Why not?"

Max's smile wavered. "With talents as great as yours, I don't see a reason to hide—"

"I am not hiding," Marko cut him off sharply.

"What talents?" Sam asked curiously. Whatever they were, they had been mentioned a lot by now and he was very interested. Especially if it meant knowing someone who might kind of be in the same sucky boat as him, depending on what those "talents" were. He almost hoped Marko had been miserable in his human life, like Sam had been until moving to Santa Carla, but then he realized just how awful that was of him and quickly wiped that thought away. No, he would never wish that on anybody—even if it meant having someone to relate to for once.

"It's none of your business."

"Oh, come on, Marko," Dwayne chastised. "He just shared something that was probably intensely personal with us. The least you can do is share, too. He's the only one who doesn't know."

"I never asked him to dump his gift on us," the curly-haired vampire went on, voice rising with increasing agitation. "And I never told any of you about mine. In fact—I never would have! You know what? I really don't want to talk about this."

"Talk about what?" Sam was hoping that someone would just come out and say it, because his nosiness was reaching its peak.

"Just leave it be," Star sighed.

"He can—"

"Paul!" Marko cut the tall blonde off before he could spill any beans.

Max cut in again with, "I never understood your negative disposition towards it. It's nearly every vampire's dream, and surely not nearly as much of a burden as Sam's gift must have been at times."

Sam waited for Marko's next retort—waited to see how angry he would get before everyone just dropped it—but there was nothing. Only silence, and a very tense atmosphere. As Sam's eyes did a quick sweep of the circle, he saw that Max and Dwayne were waiting for Marko's response as well—but Paul…Paul grimaced and said, "Yikes."

There was a hint of something in Marko's expression—something Sam didn't understand. But Max got it instantly. "You will stay in this circle," he ordered, visibly struggling to keep his cool. Marko turned ninety degrees to the left. "Marko, if I was your maker—"

"But you're not." His words were cold and bitter. And then he turned fully on his heels and dashed off in a blur. Sam frowned at Paul's desperate expression.

He wanted to go after him.

Why?

"Who pissed him off this time?" Everyone turned towards the tree-line to face David, having missed his approaching sounds with all the arguing and such that had just occurred.

Max visibly relaxed. "Where's Michael?"

David bowed his head slightly and stepped off to the side, his eyes forming a sweeping gesture and revealing a shadowy figure. Sam's breath caught in his throat as Michael stepped into sight. He was bloody, with smears of red down his chin and chest. His eyes were steely as he carried a large lump of something over his shoulder.

A person, Sam realized, stomach sinking to the ground. He was carrying a person.

Dwayne moved to allow Michael better access to the fire. As Michael got closer, his victim became more visible, but Sam tried not to look. In a few seconds, Michael would throw whoever it was onto the fire, to burn them just like Leo's girlfriend, who had been mourned and disposed of at this very same fire pit.

Sam stared down into the flames, not wanting to look at his bloody brother any longer. Michael heaved his victim from his shoulder and tossed it into the fire. It draped evenly across it, its head landing directly in Sam's line of sight.

Its brown eyes were frozen open and stared into nothing—and its lips were stretched back to reveal its sharp canines.