Clouds of steam rolled out from behind the closed curtain and within the occupied shower, coating the nearby mirror in the small bathroom with condensation. It completely obscured his reflection; the only thing that could be seen was the vague outline of his head and shoulders. The calming sounds of spraying water and humming filled the small space, and those soothing, endearing noises smoothed away the edges of his razor-sharp tension.

But he was still unbearably overwrought, in every sense of the word, and while Paul's presence a few feet away was very helpful and kept Marko grounded, it did nothing to alleviate his splitting headache.

Almost without his own accord—as if his arm was being lifted by a ghost—he reached up and traced letters into the fogged glass of the mirror. When his finger lifted off the first L, droplets of warm water ran down the smooth glass surface and left trails in their wake. The same happened after each following letter: o, r, e… As he wrote the first e, the running water was shut off in the shower. L, e…

Paul was climbing out of the shower and reaching for a towel when Marko finished up the last letter. I. And as soon as he was done with the whole name, he swiped his hand across the mirror and erased the entire thing. He could see his reflection then, and if he had felt leaden with stress before, he felt even worse now.

He felt weak. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally (although he could definitely go for a meal soon). The weight on his shoulders reflected in his eyes and made the irises black instead of their usual color—the sign of a vampire who was exhausted. How could he go out and put a smile on his face and pretend everything was fine, while he mingled with nosey, political vampires? They'd be inquiring about his maker's death, Oakland's situation, and his sister's whereabouts. There was no doubt about that. And what would Marko say to them? Could he pretend he was taking it in stride and knew everything would be fine and dandy soon? No, they knew he wasn't doing well…otherwise he would be in Oakland right now. Jesus, there were going to be very rich and very influential vampires here tonight, and even though he'd only been living with Max for six months, it felt like he'd been out of that social aspect of his life for many years.

"Shit."

"What?" Paul asked curiously as he dried his hair.

For a moment, Marko was tempted to reply with a dismissive "nothing," but he wasn't going to resort to doing that in times of great stress. Not with Paul. If there was anything that could break down a good relationship, it would be hiding your thoughts from one another. That happened with Marko and his brothers, and he had such few family left; he needed to maintain the relationships he still had. Besides…he didn't have a blood connection with Paul; it wasn't like they simply knew exactly what the other was feeling.

"I'm just…not looking forward to this."

Paul tossed the towel aside and shook his head. "You're better at being formal than I am."

That…was true. Paul was kind of like a bull in a china shop when it came to the fancier side of vampire life. He was always comfortable meeting new people—especially humans. But when it came to a crowd of rich, tight-lipped undead—who scrutinized him for being the very young vampire that somehow stole one of their own away—well…it was hard to blend in. Being outgoing could allow someone to make a few friendly acquaintances in that type of setting, but most of the attendants would turn the other way. It was a bit irritating, but nothing he hadn't prepared himself for a long time ago.

Paul left the bathroom, taking much of the built-up steam with him. Their dresser was only a few feet away from the door; he pulled the top drawer open and stared into it. "What should I wear?"

"Something dark," Marko replied automatically, and he decided what to do with his hair. A braid around the front? And off to the side? Hm. "They only have a problem with you because you're young, you know," he said after a moment of silence had passed. And then, quietly and to himself: "Really, really young…"

"So you're saying that once I hit a magical age, we'll all be besties?" Paul laughed at the thought of ever being more than acquaintances with those people. A double date with Tyne and Peter? Yeah right. "And I thought you weren't bothered by it! I wasn't turned yesterday. I've been a vampire for…what, six years now?" He had picked up on Marko's last comment and feigned hurt.

"Five. And I'm not bothered by it." It was refreshing, actually—being around someone who was so much younger. Paul was filled with a sense of…newness. Modern ideas and opinions. A different, less cynical way of looking at things. That would inevitably change with time, but right now, it was…different. In a good way. Other vampires clearly didn't agree, sadly. "They think the rest of your family is too young to be taken seriously, too; it's not anything personal. Even Max has a hard time making allies. I'm pretty sure that only some of the guests are coming for Max, and the rest will be here because they're curious about Michael." Max was expanding his family. That was bound to raise a few intrigued heads.

Paul finished buttoning up the black shirt he chose, and started fishing for a suitable pair of pants. Jesus, he was so bad at this sort of thing. He'd only been to a few parties like this in the past, and they hadn't gone very well—and this was mostly for his new brother, so he had to take it seriously. He couldn't just say "fuck it" and wear whatever. Was leather all right? No, probably not… "Speaking of Michael… I'm worried about him. I don't think he's fed at all since that dog. And last night, I think his bloody steak made him sick or something. He got all disoriented and…I don't know. There was something weird going on with him." He finally found some dark skinny jeans that were absent of holes and stains, and wiggled himself into them. "He and Dwayne didn't come back last night."

"They'll show up soon. Michael called Sam a little while ago."

That gave the tall blond pause. "Really?" he asked quizzically, confusion laced in his voice. "I haven't heard the phone ring since I woke up."

It was Marko's turn to pause. "That's because it hasn't." A moment of silence passed with Paul trying to figure out what that meant and how that even worked, and Marko saved him the trouble of the confusion. "He called while the sun was still up. A full hour before it set, actually."

"What? How was he awake and making a phone call?"

"How am I supposed to know? I've never met a new vampire who's gone this long without making an official kill. Maybe—" He stopped short when there was a light knock at their bedroom door. Marko peered out of the bathroom curiously as Paul went to see who it was.

He was met by the sight of a woman with dark, very curly hair; simplistic clothes adorned her thin body, a dress was slung over her arm, and a smile stretched across her heart-shaped face. Someone he had seen practically every day for the last five years. "Hey Paul. Marko's in here, right?" Star asked.

"Yeah, of course." Paul stepped aside, allowing her to enter. With Marko finished with his hair and Paul done selecting his outfit, they switched places; Paul spun Marko around by the waist so he could access the bathroom and dry his hair, while Marko was grabbed by Star and pushed into a seating position on the bed.

"You got here fast."

"David was in a hurry to leave," Star explained with a shrug, opening up the makeup pouch that had been tucked under her arm.

"I can't imagine why."

"Hey!" She smacked his arm playfully. "Just because you don't like humans doesn't mean David has no reason to find Sam…interesting."

"I don't dislike humans," he defended, taking the makeup pouch from her. Star tilted her head and shot him a disbelieving look. He elaborated, "Sam is just… I don't think he's good to have around."

"Marko, he's a human." She closed her eyes when he began applying makeup to her eyelids. She was grateful that he had experience with makeup, from living with his sister for so many years; Star was very bad at this kind of stuff. Whenever she attempted to put makeup on—the kind a girl needed to be labeled "beautiful" or "sexy" at a party—she always ended up looking like a raccoon. Eyeliner was not her friend. "What kind of danger does he bring here?" When he failed to give her an answer, she hoped that her point had been made and he would go easier on the new human addition to their little "family."

"I like him," Paul inserted from the bathroom. "I don't think he'd purposely try to hurt us."

"He was going to open the curtain on you while you were sleeping!" Marko whirled his head in the direction of the bathroom archway. He couldn't see Paul from that angle, but oh did he wish he could; he'd be sending over a galore of glares.

"Don't mess up my makeup!"

"You don't know that he actually would've, though," Paul calmly pointed out.

"And we're all fine, so he hasn't attempted to kill any of us after that," Star added. "Like I said, he's just a human boy. You're awake all day long; what does he do? Sharpen stakes? No. He probably eats a lot of food and watches TV. Right? Oh, speaking of daytime. Because you're totally bored out of your mind every day, I'm sure, you should consider coming over to the shop. Laddie's there by himself all the time. You should bring Sam, too. Bernard never filed a report saying he was missing, so he shouldn't be stuck inside all day. Oh, you two could go shopping!" Marko hadn't resumed applying makeup on her since Paul last spoke, and when all of her suggestions were met with silence, she opened her eyes. Marko was staring at her like she just suggested he pierce his eyeball. "What? I'm just throwing stuff out there. It's okay; I can take him shopping sometime… Sorry. Continue." Her eyelids shut again.

Paul turned on the hair dryer finally, which blanketed Marko's exasperated sigh as he dabbed the small makeup brush in a soft purple powder.

Pacifists.

Unfortunately, Sam wasn't able to get a whole lot of quality time to think about Max's latest announcement or David's offer. The blond spent twenty minutes in his room, pacing back and forth and then sitting impatiently on his bed and then staring out the window—and repeating the process over and over again. He was waiting for Michael to show up, because surely his brother would be able to do or say something helpful…or he'd at least try. Michael wouldn't let anyone bite Sam, right? And Max said that it wouldn't be the wisest or most effective route, but if Sam had to be bitten, maybe Michael could be the one to do it? Sam trusted him. That was more than he could say for anyone else in this godforsaken house. If anyone would be allowed near his neck (which still bore two faint white marks from the last time he'd been bitten), it'd be his brother.

That is…if Michael even showed up. There was a possibility that the idea of this "party"—which was partly in his honor—would scared him from attending.

I swear to God, Michael, if you pussy out of this…

Sam's anxious and agitated thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. He racked his brain for who it was, figuring that if he was cursed with random visions that made no sense (and had been mysteriously absent since moving in with Max and his family of vampire prodigies), the least those visions could do was leave him with no more surprises. Sadly, that side of his mind was blank; he'd have to find out the old-fashioned way.

He sighed and flounced over to the door, crossing his fingers it was Michael, back home at last, or at least Paul. Sam actually liked Paul; he was nice and genuine, and came across as the most "human," you could say. Many of the others were either emotionally distant or hardened with a strong dislike for…probably a plethora of things. Even Dwayne hadn't proven to be very open with Sam (which brought up the question "Who is Laddie?" again, but that wasn't relevant at the moment). So Sam crossed his fingers for either Michael or Paul and hesitantly opened the door.

It was neither, of course. Sam was standing less than a foot away from David, and he was hit full-force by the platinum blond's strong presence. Sam's heart skipped several beats and then resumed at a faster pace than usual. He wasn't afraid of David, per se, but being under the intense gaze of those ice blue eyes was…intimidating. Intimidating, but also…

No. He wasn't even going to go there.

Simply put…no one had ever looked at Sam like that before, and it was affecting his nerves accordingly. Which was silly and stupid, because David probably looked at everyone like that. Sam shouldn't even waste time being influenced by it.

"The first wave of guests will be here any minute."

Sam swallowed. There was no hint of an ultimatum in David's voice (he was merely stating how much time Sam had left to decide), but it still gave rise to much anxiety in the young human. "Is Mike here?"

"No." David tilted his head to the side when Sam failed to say anything more, throwing more of his weight against the doorframe.

Finally, Sam managed to ask, "How many humans are gonna show up?"

"It's hard to say. None were invited, but the guests are allowed to bring any humans they want. All of those humans will probably be claimed by the vampire bringing them, though."

"Claimed?" Did he even want to know about what that entitled?

"It means they're the rightful property of the vampire they're servicing. The vampire they feed." David lifted a pale eyebrow at Sam's wide-eyed reaction. "We told you Max doesn't let any vampire in Santa Carla kill humans. How else are we supposed to eat?"

For once, Sam actually understood. He understood why he had to be bitten—why he needed to look "claimed" by someone. He was going to be a walking, talking blood supply at this party, and it was probably safe to say that appearing "open" was the equivalent of being a discounted steak at a meat-lovers buffet. How reassuring. "Wait." His eyes widened even further as a different kind of realization hit him. "Wait! Are you saying you each have your own personal slave who feeds you whenever you want? Is that who Laddie is? And Maria? Your on-call meals?"

Sam was aware of the sharp look in David's eyes as soon as the name "Laddie" left his lips, and even though David was pushing him into his room and slamming the door shut, Sam kept talking. Until David bluntly hissed at him, "Be quiet!" Sam did, snapping his mouth shut and sitting his butt down on the end of his bed. He hadn't been forced to sit, but the alternative was standing up against David, and…well…Sam didn't feel that daring yet. His human instincts were too strong; they told him to back down and keep his mouth shut, lest a particular vampire get too angry with him. "Where did you hear those names?"

"I've heard 'Maria' thrown around a couple times already between you guys." He narrowed his eyes slightly when David looked genuinely surprised by that. "I pick up on more than you think. I'm not stupid. And I heard Laddie's name when…well, it was when… It was a while ago, and… I mean, I didn't actually hear it technically, but… It was in a vision. Kind of. Except it was like, a vision of something happening in the present. I think." Sam grew frustrated when David didn't appear to be understanding him fully. "I can't explain it! I heard a conversation between Paul and Marko the first day I was here, through a vision." The only reason he felt the need to clarify that it had been through a strange vision at all was simply to make sure Paul didn't get in trouble later on for being careless and allowing Sam to overhear something he wasn't supposed to. It wasn't their fault they now lived with someone who had a unique way of accidentally stumbling across information…

Thankfully, David appeared to be satisfied with that explanation. "Maria isn't exactly a secret. She's Max's human. They work together, and he prefers to stick with one human at a time. And for the record, my brothers and I don't drag around enslaved humans to drink from whenever we want." He was clearly offended that Sam would assume something like that, but honestly, Sam couldn't bring himself to feel bad about jumping to conclusions. He didn't know these guys, or what they did in their free time. From the way David had worded things before, not much had been left to speculate about… "There are other ways. It's just that having a specific human or two is the most convenient route for the more elite side of my kind."

Sam sighed and looked away from David. Vampires and the lives they led were so complex. How was he ever going to become knowledgeable about their world? "You need to have more faith in us," David went on. "We aren't all horrible creatures. Max is very civilized, and—"

"Who's Laddie?" Sam looked up at David again, who was still standing in front of him. "You said Maria is Max's meal-on-wheels, so who does Laddie 'belong' to?" He made an effort to do physical air quotes around "belong." The whole idea of anyone claiming to own someone (and someone who was very important to any vampire's survival, at that) was appalling. Sam's frustration grew when David only gritted his teeth. "You know, one minute you guys act like I'm a note-worthy part of your messed up pack, and the next you refuse to answer some simple fucking question. So which is it? Do I deserve to know, or am I just supposed to sit around all day and look pretty and stay quiet while you all figure out how to take advantage of my—"

"I'll answer your question if you keep your voice down!" David growled, his expression dangerously sharp. Sam glared daggers right back, but pursed his lips for the sake of hearing whatever David had to say. "Max doesn't know about Laddie, all right? And he can't know. So if I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, you have to keep it to yourself."

David paused, and Sam took that as him waiting for some kind of confirmation. "Fine. Max already said he can't read my mind. But don't you think Max probably already heard everything we were just saying? You vamps have the ears of a bat, don't you?"

"We hear the things we choose to listen in on. I don't pick up on every footstep in this house. And he went to town anyways, to go pick up Maria."

"Oh." That was reassuring. Now Sam knew that the boys weren't hearing every single thing that Sam did—day or night. He could now go to the bathroom without feeling incredibly embarrassed. Making a continuous motion with his hands, he conceded, "Go on, then. Spill the beans on the super-secret lives you all live behind Max's back. I'm dying to know." He crossed his legs and folded his hands for emphasis.

David rolled his eyes and turned his back on Sam. "It's not as juicy as you think it is," he admitted, strolling over to Sam's tall dresser and leaning an elbow against the top of it. There were several small picture frames perched against the dark wood that had been there when Sam "moved in," essentially; he'd left them be, having no pictures of his own to replace them with. David grabbed one of the picture frames with his loose-hanging arm and studied it for a second. "This was Star's room, before she moved out." He flipped the frame around to show Sam the old black-and-white mid-shot photograph of what appeared to be two women on a beach, standing under a parasol and smiling into the camera. Sam had glanced at the photo several times before; he'd found it buried in a drawer a while ago and hadn't been sure what to make of it or where to put it, other than on display on top of the dresser. He was unable to recognize either of the girls in it, but he'd been hoping to ask someone about it sometime in the next fifty years…or whenever things smoothed out between Sam and the others. "Before we moved out," David corrected himself. "She left a lot of her shit here. At least a couple boxes, under your bed."

Really? Sam would definitely have to snoop around in those later.

"Wait." Sam squinted his eyes at the photo before reaching forward and snatching it out of David's hand. "Is one of them supposed to be Star?" The photo was so old and the parasol cast so much shade against their faces that it was hard to determine if one of them was indeed Star.

"She's on the left."

Ah, and so she was. Sam could just barely distinguish those familiar facial features, now that she was pointed out to him. Her different hairstyle and the bright smile on her face threw Sam off—and the fact that she looked very similar to the girl next to her. "Her sister?" Sam ventured.

"Yes." Sam could tell from the strain in David's voice that they weren't going to be delving into that topic anytime soon. "Anyways…she met Laddie shortly after we moved out, which was…eight years ago? It's a long story, but basically he's the one who runs that jewelry shop most of the time. Star, Dwayne and I assume some level of responsibility over it, but Laddie puts the most work into keeping it running. Max knows that we hire a human to keep tabs of the store. He probably assumes that Star gets cheap meals off of him, too." He frowned suddenly. "He's still young. Twenty-one, last I heard. But…"

Sam was becoming more serious by the minute as he listened; he had a feeling he knew where David was going with this. Why else would everyone be so sensitive about the mention of this boy? "But he's aging." David's silence was all the confirmation that Sam needed. "Does…I mean…" How to word this without sounding too nosey… "Star, uh, cares about him?"

"More than Max would ever understand—or allow. It isn't the same kind of love that you're thinking of, but…not that it even matters. Max would never consider turning him." David spoke with bitter conviction. Sam swallowed his newfound sympathy for Star and gingerly handed the photograph back to the vampire standing a few feet away from him. "Not unless there's something to be gained from it."

Wow… Max suddenly seemed a whole lot colder. "I'm sorry. I won't bring him up again," Sam said as David stood the picture frame back on the dresser. Sam would forever have more questions, of course, but he could bite his tongue if it would save people heartache.

David smirked and shook his head, brushing off the serious mood he'd previously created. "You can ask questions whenever the hell you want, Sam. You're allowed to know things."

"Good." Sam smiled. "I like knowing things."

The platinum blond rolled his eyes again and sauntered a few feet to the left, towards the door. "I bet you do." The door swung open and he looked as if he were about to abruptly leave—but then he turned to look back at Sam expectantly. "Max's back and the first guests just arrived. You coming?"

Oh Lord. "W-What about the whole bite business?"

"You're the psychic. Do you see that being a problem tonight?"

What the hell kind of question was that? His visions didn't work that way… What did David mean? Did Sam see a vampire at the party making a move on him? How was he supposed to determine that on the spot? "No…but—"

"Then let's go."

"But David—"

"Yes?" Those pale eyebrows were raised and his blue eyes were trained on Sam in that same focused expression as earlier.

Sam's protests died away and made room for one final qualm: "What am I supposed to wear?"

"You look fine as it is." Sam still hesitated, so David extended his hand in an inviting gesture. "You're not going to be alone at this party, I hope you realize. Marko and I are going to be your personal bodyguards the entire time."

Surprisingly enough, being reminded of that fact caused Sam to concede. He didn't like the thought of being glued to Marko the entire time, but Sam was actually starting to like David—and even if Sam didn't get along with the oldest vampire of the bunch, Marko was still a semi-familiar face in a sea of unknown (and probably very dangerous) vampires. The party wouldn't be too bad, as long as he had two strong anchors the entire time.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he stood up and accepted David's hand.

"Just don't leave me to fend for myself."

David chuckled. "Of course not."

At that moment, Sam shocked himself with the realization that he wholly believed David's promise. Tonight actually might turn out okay, as long as Sam had familiar company of some kind—even if Michael ends up deciding not to join them. Sam might even enjoy the experience.

It should definitely be eye-opening, that's for sure…