The site is finally working. After only twelve hours of waiting.
It's 2am and I just wrote this now.
Chapter nineteen coming soon, folks.
*flops onto the floor*
Lucy's house looked abandoned and neglected, Sam observed as Michael pulled into the icy driveway. It was void of all lights; the only things that aided Sam's sight were the headlights of Lucy's newly-bleached car and the bright moonlight that was peeking through the clouds. If Sam didn't know that just under a week ago it was being inhabited by four people, he would have assumed no one had lived in the old house for years. But, in reality, it had been lived in for a very long time—since his grandpa was Michael's age, Sam believed. Give or take. And, still, after all these years and…recent events…it was still being lived in.
Well, Sam's grandpa should be around yet. But in all honesty, Sam was glad that the crazy kook was nowhere to be seen. He never liked their little "meetings." His grandpa wasn't rude to him—in fact, he barely said anything to Sam at all. But every time they were in the same room as each other… Sam couldn't really explain it. He just didn't like his grandpa's company very much.
As if Michael had a similar train of thought as Sam, he asked, "Do you think Grandpa's home?"
Sam shrugged. "I'm sure he is. He never leaves his property, right?" Specifically, he never stepped past the little dip in the dirt that separated his driveway from the road. Never. Sam recalled a time when the newspaper had blown out of his grandpa's hands when he was sitting on the porch. The wind carried it right into the road and he stood at the precipice of his driveway for a good ten minutes, trying to get it back over to his property with a long stick.
Eventually little critters came and started chewing on it, so out came the BB gun. All the while, Sam and Michael were watching him from the kitchen window with wild amusement. Sam couldn't remember if he did get the paper back, or if he had to wait a week before the next was delivered. Either way, his grandpa was nuts, and if he didn't leave his property to get a newspaper then, he wasn't going to start making errands now.
Michael grinned a lop-sided smile. "Let's just hope he doesn't try to shoot us." Of course Michael was referring to David and Dwayne, who were following from above, because Sam was pretty sure their grandpa wouldn't shoot his own grandkids. Pretty sure. Not entirely certain, because he did love his big array of weapons, but yeah.
"He didn't get his gun the last time vamps paid his home a visit." Sam regretted bringing that incident up almost immediately, because Michael's smile faltered. "Sorry," he quickly apologized.
"It's okay." Michael cut the car's engine. "I can still smell the blood on the back seat. I never forgot." He opened his door and climbed out.
Sam cursed at himself for trying to tie that traumatic incident into a light-hearted comment. Stupid, stupid. He really needed to watch his mouth. Sighing, he undid his seatbelt, got out of the car, and followed Michael to the porch, where David and Dwayne were already waiting. They appeared to be checking out the front of the house—sniffing around, you could say. Even when Michael and Sam was standing right behind them, they didn't acknowledge them. They were focused on something. Fleetingly, Sam wondered if they really were sniffing the exterior of the house.
The young blonde took the liberty of opening the front door first. He half-expected it to be locked or stuck, like it had been that night, but thankfully—and strangely—it opened smoothly. He stepped into the dark house and began searching the wall for a light switch. When he found it, he flicked it on and the living room/kitchen area was illuminated.
David and Dwayne still looked uncertain about something, and because of their apprehension, Michael was glued to the spot outside, afraid to step past the threshold. "Do I need to invite you in?" Sam asked in slight confusion. That was what Max said to Leo for the vampire to come into his house, after all—but there had been a multitude of vampires in this house already, and Sam was pretty sure none of them had ever been invited inside.
Finally, David shook his head, breaking from his contemplation of something and responding to Sam's question. "No," he said smoothly, and slipped through the doorframe. "No one's home, anyways."
"How do you know that?" Michael asked, coming in behind David. Dwayne followed silently. As soon as everyone was inside, Michael shuddered visibly and scanned the living room anxiously.
"Intuition," said David. He slowly strode further into the room, checking out the beams above their heads and then the stairs.
Dwayne chuckled. "We know the guy, and he never hangs around at this time of night. He's always doing other stuff. Usually in his shed."
"Why do I feel so…weird?" Michael wondered aloud with a grimace.
"You're not invited."
"And you are?" Michael flashed Dwayne a sharp look. The black-haired vampire smiled. It was small and showed no teeth, but it was genuine. A smile that said "You know so little about everything it's kind of cute." Michael's stomach clenched and he looked away.
"Yes," Dwayne replied smoothly, and Sam started ascending the stairs. Michael followed closely behind and Dwayne trailed at the end.
"Since when do you know our grandpa?" Sam asked over his shoulder.
"He was a little older than Michael when we met. I was a new vampire, and David and Star were both only a few years older than me, so I suppose…we've known him for about fifty years."
Sam's eyes widened but he didn't look behind him again. He just mouthed holy shit and tried to keep his shock to himself, lest he accidentally insult their ages.
"How old were you when you were turned?" Michael asked as they neared the top of the stairs. Sam disappeared into his room and Michael paused at the top, waiting for Dwayne's response.
The dark-haired vampire merely shrugged and answered with something that made Michael's eyebrows skyrocket in disbelief. "Don't remember."
Sam pushed into his room without preamble, and it was only as he stared at the contents of his bedroom did he remember what had taken place in it the last time he was here. There were no signs of it, though; no blood remained. There wasn't even a suspicious stain on the floorboards—although Sam did notice that the boards in the middle of his room had a different look to them than the rest.
They were new, he realized. Someone had completely replaced the bloody boards with brand new ones. Who? Was it possible that Max or another vampire had taken care of it? What about his grandpa? If Dwayne talked about knowing Sam's grandfather for most of his life, then there was a good chance he was (for some reason) informed on vampires. If that was the case, did he do this? Was Max in touch with him regarding the well-being of his grandkids?
Sam made a mental note to ask later. Right now, he had to focus on his stuff.
Stuff he hadn't even gotten a chance to use in this house. He hadn't even finished unpacking completely from when he first moved to Santa Carla, and he was already relocating his things. Of course, that made repacking so much easier, but still… He was originally supposed to live with his mother, and now she was missing—possibly gone forever—and Sam was moving into a household full of what his brother had recently become. Things sure did change quickly…
"Need help with anything?"
Sam glanced over at David, who was camped out in the doorway. "No, I got it," he replied, opening up his drawers and pulling clothes out. He tucked his shirts under his arm until he couldn't carry any more, and then dumped them unceremoniously onto his duffel bag, which was spread open on his bed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw David open the closet, and Sam raised a blonde brow. "You can take the stuffed animals if you want." His grandpa was into taxidermy—something Sam hadn't been aware of until he saw the array of stuffed dead animals shoved into his closet.
David shook his head and slid the door closed. "It still smells like him."
"Who?"
"Neil." Sam froze.
Oh yeah. That's right. Neil. "It still smells like him after a week?" He tried to sound nonchalant—maybe even borderline curious. Anything but uncomfortable, which is exactly what he was while on the subject of his almost-murderer.
"It's a curse." David tapped his nose, and Sam couldn't help the lopsided grin that formed against his will. He willed it away and a second later it disappeared, because he was suddenly aware of the fact that I shouldn't be smiling right now. Over some vampire humor. In front of someone I should really, really not like.
But…why? Why shouldn't he like David? The guy wasn't all rainbows and cheeky smiles, but, after mentally checking every encounter they've had together so far, Sam couldn't find a reason to dislike him. Maybe he was all right. Maybe they were all all right, and Sam just had to give them a break.
He was suddenly very aware of the fact that David was staring at him. His heart fluttered and then he realized, with a mental slap, that it was because he was the one staring. He looked away quickly and down at his duffel bag, muttering, "Sorry." To avoid further eye contact, he began busying himself by folding his clothes and stuffing them into the bag neatly. When he was done, he allowed himself to look up again and noticed that David was still nosing around Sam's room. This time he was fixated on an old picture that was framed on top of Sam's dresser. Sam hadn't brought it here; it was already sitting there when he arrived, having been placed there years ago.
"That's my mom," he said. "When she was younger." It was a photo of her at the beach, standing next to her then-husband with Michael growing in her belly. It was weird to look at, so Sam normally didn't. Strange to think his parents used to be happy together—that at one point, Lucy smiled all the time and Sam's father was completely sober and Lucy's mother was still around to take that photo.
"Is she still around?" David inquired.
Sam paused, but figured there was no reason to dance around it. Max already knew. "She just got home the night me and Michael were…attacked. She never came in the house and her car was the one still running outside when you showed up. I don't know where she is." He shrugged in an attempt to pretend it didn't bother him.
It did. Immensely.
"Your grandfather is probably looking for her."
Sam shook his head. "He never leaves his property."
"Bernard is paranoid and won't go anywhere without arming himself with silver bullets and holy water." Sam's eyes widened a fraction at the use of his grandfather's real name; he seldom hears it. "I've known him for fifty years, Sam. He's looking for his daughter."
You couldn't argue with a statement like that. Sam nodded slowly, letting that small bit of news sink in. His grandpa was looking for Lucy. So even though Max showed no interest in sending out a search party for Sam's mother…at least someone was trying. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"I don't know. For telling me that, I guess."
To that, David said nothing. Sam zipped up his bag of clothing, because that was really all he had brought from Arizona. He hauled the strap over his shoulder and David followed him out of the room. "Almost ready, Mike?" he called out.
"Almost!" Michael replied, but it took him another five minutes or so before he emerged from his room with Dwayne. He possessed about half the clothing as Sam, and different shirts and pant legs were spilling out over the top of the still-open duffel bag. He did a very rushed job, Sam could tell. Strange that it took him so much longer, then—and Sam even had his little talk with David in-between packing. He flashed Michael and Dwayne questioning looks and was about to ask what took so long. But after seeing how pale Michael seemed, Sam refrained.
Not right now, at least.
"Let's go." Michael ushered Sam down the stairs quickly. "This place is making me really nervous."
"You okay?" Sam furrowed his brows in worry. Michael all but pushed his brother out the front door.
"It's probably because the siding was recently doused in holy water," Dwayne said with a light laugh. "To keep unwanted guests away. You can still go inside, but you won't want to stick around."
Sam couldn't help but laugh as he threw his bag into the back seat of the car. "I can't believe Gramps was in on the whole vampires-in-Santa-Carla thing," he mused to his brother. "Guess he wasn't as crazy as we thought."
"No, I would say he's still pretty nuts," Dwayne said with a cheeky grin.
They broke out in laughter, and even David couldn't suppress a smile.