Wow..am I that bad that no one leaves reviews except FindersKeepers my stalker? Heh…well….it only takes a sec, just leave me a quick note, even if its anonymous – I really really thrive on you guys are your reviews, and definitely listen to any suggestions you have…If you're just all confuzzled, search for the first part of the story The Lives Men Lead and things will become clear.

So, just take 5 seconds out of your day (for me! I love you!) and let me know if I'm boring ya silly, or if you like it.

More "old friends" will be showin up soon….just keep reading. It'll all make sense eventually ;)

Two eyes stared out over Mesita. One brown, one a pale yellow-green. They calmly watched as the last traces of the sun slipped over the horizon. Behind them were the sounds of digging, scratching, and the snapping of teeth.

Hush, my little ones. Time enough for that.

He had heard of Tristan's miserable failure. It didn't surprise him, and he felt no remorse. The old fool. He knew Tristan had been priming him to take over the pack….such trust was badly misplaced in a protégé that was not your own child. Oh, he called him his child, his favourite, his pet…but they both knew that he belonged to no one. No one knew where he had come from, and no one asked. Tristan took him in and acted like he was going to be a savior, a deus ex machina for his out-of-control pack. But he had been planning, too. The hunters and their new friends had actually done him a favor. He had planned to take Tristan out himself, but now was saved the trouble. Not that the trouble was much; the old man was too far gone to make any sort of decent threat. He let himself get caught up in the intellectual aspects of everything, when everyone knew, it was bloodlust that counted.

The green and brown eyes blinked as one as he recalled his first attempt years ago at revenging his almost mortal injury at the hands of the hunters. Sloppy. Very sloppy. He was almost ashamed to admit it had been his idea. The work of a novice. They had only captured one, and ended up losing her only weeks later. But unlike Tristan, who doggedly stuck to ritual, he had changed his plans. Things were much different now, much different.

The scratching noise became louder and more insistent. They could smell his anticipation.

But now wasn't the time for the final blow. No, right now, it was just going to be a warning. Just enough to get their heartbeats going and palms sweating. Psychological warfare beforehand made the actual killing easier. The eyes blinked again slowly, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

He was coming.

And he was no ancient. He adapted. He held nothing sacred. He was of new blood, and was out to spill more.

Lath was coming.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The late in the next afternoon, Michael returned to his room after speaking at length with Daniel. He sat on the bed, shaking his mass of dark hair away from his eyes, and looked down at his hands. Slowly, he opened his fingers, revealing the clenched photograph. It was old and torn at the corner, but definitely the same one he had seen Lucy keep by her nightstand. Sam, only a baby, Michael, Lucy, and his father. It had been on the beach, and all of them were squinting at the camera in the bright light. This is crazy. He made up some excuse to Lucy and Sam about going on vacation in New Mexico with some old friends from Santa Carla. Only Sam had been suspicious, but Michael had silenced him with a classic older-brother glare. Born to kill vampires? Please. It sounded like something out of one of Sam's comic books. But the nagging thought at the back of his mind remained. A month ago, he didn't believe in vampires either. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

He trusted the girl, although he wasn't sure why. He generally believed his first impressions about people. He had tagged David as a troublemaker from the start, he just hadn't known how far he would go. However, even though David was self-serving and half-crazy, he wasn't about to sneak into Michael's room at night and kill him. Paul, of course, was Paul, and Michael didn't have many fears regarding him. The other one, Adrian, he wasn't sure what to make of yet. It wasn't common for him to not be able to read others, and it unnerved him slightly.

Why am I even here? Going on some crusade against the undead?

You know why. Because of Dad. Because you knew he had been hiding something. It hadn't been work, it hadn't been an affair, it had been something much more sinister. Keep on with this, and just see where it goes.

Rita had been checking in on Michael all day, making sure the new addition was settling in. After he had politely, but firmly, shooed her away for the fourth time, she decided that it was time to stop stalling. Although who she should go to first, she didn't know. Daniel? Cate? David himself? Daniel would almost certainly throw both of them out, if not kill them. He loved Cate dearly, but considered the only good vampire a dead vampire. She would be dead to him. Rita was not quite so hard-hearted. She could tell in the girl's eyes and voice that she was still inside that body. It was still Cate. She found that she had made her way to the back of the house, where it joined the garage. Hearing the clanking of metal, she slowly opened the door. David was inside, on his back, tinkering with the underside of his bike's engine. Neither he, Cate, or Paul had told anyone of the events of last night yet, and he was desperately trying to find ways to stop thinking about it. The task at hand right now was to find a way to tweak his engine to be able to at least match, if not outrun, Adrian's.

He glanced over as he saw her come in and scooted over so he could sit up without hitting his head. "Need anything?"

"Actually, yes…..I remember you saying you grew up in Georgia."

David stood and wiped his hands on his pants, not quite sure where she was going with this line of questioning. "Atlanta, yeah."

"I spent a good deal of my childhood there myself."

"That so?"

She took a step forward , her hand in the pocket of her sweater, grasping the photograph.

"Cate told you who I am, didn't she?"

"She said you did magic."

"You can say the word witch." Rita's nerve redoubled as she became even more sure, seeing his familiar smile on his face. "Witches live longer than most. And we have long memories. But there's been something I have been wondering about of late, something about Georgia. I was wondering if you could help."

David raised an eyebrow. He didn't know what she was leading up to, but her tone was beginning to make him ill at ease.

She took out the photograph and handed it to him. "My family also lived in Atlanta…I was curious to see if you had known any of them."

David took the photograph, expecting to see some boring, flashy color picture with gaping smiles, annoying looking children….but his heart leapt into his throat and he literally almost started choking right then and there.

"Wow…is that what they use to take pictures?" Rita's eyes were wide as she stared at the large, odd-looking contraption. Jediah straightened the collar of her dress. "It is indeed. Impressed?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, Rita. Not yeah."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Matthew, is my hair all right?"

"Beautiful, darlin, it's fine."

"Looks like a wet raccoon's ass."

Rita giggled as she heard a familiar sandpaper voice in her ear, and she whispered back in sing-song. "Uncle David used a bad wo-o-ord."

He mussed her curly hair playfully. "What, you want yours to look like it too?"

Rita squealed and tried to hit his hand away with her small fists.

"David? Will you please stop acting like you're her age for one minute?" Caleb raised an eyebrow at his younger brother.

David gave straightened back up and played at being overly stern and serious. Rita giggled despite herself.

"Shit…" it came out almost more as a breath than a spoken word

"I see you still have your penchant for foul language. Who turned you?"

His mouth stayed slightly open, as if he was debating an answer, but she already knew it. "It was her, wasn't it? My mother was right. She knew what she was."

"My business was none of your mother's affair. She wasn't even blood."

"It was our family's affair, that's why you were banned from seeing her, not that you cared a whit anyway. Sorscha wasn't just a she-wolf from the wrong side of town. She was much worse. She knew it, you knew it, even I knew it."

"If you say one more word against her –"

"You'll what? If I so chose I could do anything from stripping away that dear immortality of yours, to turning you into nothing but a pile of ashes right this second."

David scoffed and threw the picture to the ground, pointedly stepping on it. "You wouldn't dare. You're too soft."

"Try me. My mother didn't just teach me healing and white magic." Rita's eyes were as hard as nails. "Healing, wounding, giving life, taking away life…it's all intertwined, David. And for you, I wouldn't hesitate to go back to a place I swore I would never go in order to protect my family."

"I'm not family anymore, then?"

"You're a creature. And you've turned Cate, one of my own family, now. You're like a virus."

He growled to himself. Truth be told, now that he remembered, he had always had a soft spot for Rita. He hated children in general, they were loud, obnoxious, and got on the last thread of his last nerve. But she had been different than most. She took after her mother. But he could tell that no amount of cajoling or warm memories could dissuade her from being convinced that he was a danger. "I turned Cate to save her life. Ask her yourself, she'll tell you."

"I don't need to ask her. The only reason I haven't killed you yet is because, for some reason, she's fond of you, and for the most part I trust her judgement. But I swear on my mother's grave and on every power of the spirits within me, if you betray us, not even she will be able to stop me from doing what needs to be done."

"Tough words, baby bird." He purposefully used the pet name he used to call her.

"All right, smile, baby bird."

"Aren't you supposed to be still and silent in a picture?"

"I have to be. But you're too young to be so serious yet. Smile."

If Rita had been of a softer nature, such a memory would have weakened her resolve. But the weight many years had strengthened her. It did sadden her to see him. This thing in front of her had once been closer to her than a brother. She saw only fleeting traces of the young man she knew as David in it. There was a tiny lining of softness behind the layers of conceit in its eyes, and momentary lapses of innocence in the wily smirks…but that was it. Cate was still Cate…but here, she wasn't so sure. "Now isn't the time to bring this to a head. We may have a greater threat over our heads, and I refuse to have your weakness bring about the downfall of my clan, and the downfall of a girl I consider my daughter."

David's anger was aroused. How dare she try and suggest that she was more important to Cate than he was? His voice echoed around the garage. "My weakness? You call this a weakness? I'm more powerful than I could ever be. I'm damn near fucking invincible. My weakness, as you call it, saved Cate's life. Would you rather have her rotting back in Santa Carla?"

"I don't deal in imaginary situations. But hear me well. I'm not going to put either one of you on the line. But as soon as the current situation, the current threat, is taken care of, I want you out of here. And I never want to see you anywhere near Cate again. Do you understand me?"

"Oh, I understand. But we both know you won't back up your words. Do you really think Cate would choose you and your ragtag clan over me? Shake the senility out of your ears."

"It wouldn't be her choice. It would be mine." Rita turned and exited swiftly.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Over the next few days, Michael spent a great deal of his time with Daniel. They would go into the back room off from the main hall and talk for what seemed like hours on end. What they discussed, no one knew. One evening, a short letter was delivered to Daniel by a young Native American man. Daniel spoke with him in a language Michael didn't recognize, but he could tell that the old man was ill at ease. With a final word and a heavy but gentle hand place on the messenger's shoulder, Daniel turned to come back inside. He sighed, a creaking sound, and motioned to Michael. "Son. If you would be so kind as to gather your friends, and I shall bring together the rest. We have much to plan."

It took about half an hour of scouting around the house to find everyone, being that he didn't quite know the ins and outs of the house's rambling hallways, and by the time Michael got back Daniel had already gathered the main force of the clan. Paul was grumbling something about being interrupted in the middle of his Twisted Sister album, but other than that, the rest were silent. Cate had quite a good idea what this meeting was about. She broke off from the group and walked up to Daniel, who seemed to have aged even more in the short space of time. "Daniel, I'm guessing we received some word."

"We did. But I need to speak to everyone."

"Just tell me if it's good or bad."

"That, child, depends on how we use it." Daniel raised his voice and the murmur of the small crowd died down. "You all know we have been receiving various threats over the past month. Today a letter was delivered to me that openly states a position of war."

There was a grumbling throughout the room, but Daniel held up a hand.

"It also states that these people, or creatures, or whatever they may be, are willing to negotiate. Tonight they will come to the hillside on the west field surrounding the house, and they will bring no weapons. They allow us to bring whatever we like, although I believe we should go only lightly armed as a gesture of good faith."

"Good faith gets people killed."

Daniel turned towards the offending voice. David was staring at him coolly, arms crossed. "Good faith can also prevent killing. It is my decision that we will go out to meet them."

"Your decision? What about what we think? Shouldn't the people who are going to be fighting make the decisions?"

"David, what the hell are you doing?" Cate hissed.

He ignored her and continued. "Well?"

"And what would you do?" Daniel's voice was almost condescending, fatherly, like he was talking to a reluctant child.

"Come out with every piece of weaponry we have, and when they arrive…kill them. One, two, three, problem solved."

"You would break the rules of a peaceable negotiation? You have no concept of honor, of trust?"

"Not when it comes to my life."

"Cate. Remove your friend. I believe he needs some time to think things through fully before conversing with the rest of us." Daniel's voice lowered. Cate immediately grasped David by the arm and pulled him away, out of the room, down the hallway, and down to her own room. She pushed him inside and slammed the door. "What do you think you're doing? Playing mutineer? "

David had allowed Cate to 'remove' him, but he stood his ground now. "He's going to get us killed, Cate, anyone can see that."

"I don't like it any more than you do.But just wait. We're all going to be armed. Even if they're lying, and they are too, and they're going to break the peace…we'll still be ready. It doesn't really matter anyway."

"Eh. But if we did it my way….it would be so much more FUN…"he shrugged and shot her a devilish smile.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The field was as bright as daylight. Floodlights from the house's top floors cast everyone in a ghostly pale, occasionally flickering light. It was a shining spot in the middle of a yawning hole of darkness. The clan's warriors, numbering about ten including Cate, David, and Paul, stood on one side, headed by Daniel. Lath stood at the other end, a dozen or so followers on each side. They were a motley crew, various ages and races…Paul didn't recognize any of them. None of Tristan's old pack was there. In a way, it made it even more unnerving. Paul tried to keep himself from staring, making bad attempts at playing with his hair and staring at various object on the ground.

I'm not looking, I'm not looking

Yes, you are.

Shit!

Lath looked exactly the same as the night he had gone out with Paul and the others, from the long, aquiline nose and lank brown hair to the oxblood Doc Martins on his feet. He was almost having trouble believing this really was Lath. But then again, he had been the one who had run. The others had stayed and tried to fight the hunters off, and he had run. So…he hadn't actually seen him die… there was a little twinge of guilt in his stomach, but he pushed it down. They had all blamed him because they were just looking for some sort of scapegoat. And old Pauly, since he was the omega vamp, the dumbass, the village idiot, got the blood scraped off their hands and on to his. The only consolation, and it was a weak consolation at that, was that he knew Lath wasn't out for him. He was out for Cate and her clan. Eh….it probably wasn't the most noble thing to think…but he was certainly glad it wasn't all his business.

Another quite un-noble thought that he couldn't shake was how devastatingly hot Cate looked in full fight uniform – all black, all tight, very, very awesome. David kept giving him angry glances but….damn, how was a guy supposed to help himself? Kickass she-vampire in tight black leather holding a big weapon? It was like...well, he wasn't sure what it was like, but it was definitely good. Yow.

Lath raised his voice so they could hear him, amplifying his infuriating shrill tone as much as he could. "Well, well….look at you. Grown up a bit, haven't you?"

"Enough." Cate's face was like iron. She stared at each and every one of them above the gleaming tip of the arrow. There were over two dozen of them, but she recognized every sneering face. Every single one. The faces that had haunted her for almost a full month, and for years afterwards in even her deepest sleep. For a minute she was back underground, hearing water drip, hearing animal noises, rats scurrying, the groaning of rotting wood. Whenever she took in a breath, it was like breathing in fetid swamp water. The dampness was almost overpowering. Her wrists stung slightly as she remembered the ropes the held her arms above her head for almost three weeks in the same position, straining her muscles until she screamed in pain if someone tried to put them down at her sides. Every single face that stared at her, every set of fangs grinning, every disgusting, sweaty, dead body against hers. Her fingers quivered like they had a life of their own, vibrating softly against the trigger. David came over to her, sensing her rising fury. At first his plan was to gently, ever so gently try to get her to let looser the arrow that was quivering at the end of the crossbow, and start the fight that he wanted so desperately. He was having enough trouble controlling himself as he saw brief reflections of her memories in his own thoughts.

The idea of those nauseating, brainless excuses for vampires even touching Cate, who was his, God damn it, his property -

Your "property"? Cate's subconscious screeched at him.

God damn right my property

- made his blood smoke and roil. This negotiation bullshit wasn't going to do a damn thing. But he knew what would. Bodies hitting the ground. But his plan was interrupted as he heard the shrill voice directed towards him.

"Oh and look…you have a new friend! Judging from his expression…more than that?" Lath said, feigning surprise. "How intriguing. How is it, nailing the leftovers?"

David lunged and it took three men to hold him back as he struggled and snarled to get at Lath. The young vampire laughed uproariously, pleased to have gotten a reaction. "Oh, don't act so offended. She's just another piece of meat. Albeit a bit spoiled."

David was practically seeing red and the only thing that kept him within the grasp of his holders was Cate's mental scream. Stop! He's baiting you! Stop it! STOP-IT-GODDAMMIT-DAVID-RIGHT-NOW-OR-I-WILL-PUT-THIS-ARROW-IN-YOUR-OVERBLOWN-HEAD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Her voice finally broke through and he started as if something had slapped him across the face. Gradually, he stopped struggling, but his face was still a mask of utter fury. Cate hadn't moved her eyes from her targets, and her voice rang out across the field. "I will personally put an arrow through each and every throat and heart standing up there unless you leave, now. "

I'm not afraid of you.

Yes, you are, Kitty Cat.

Come down as see just how afraid I am. Her lips curved in a wicked, half-crazed smile. She wasn't remembering the past anymore. She wasn't crying on the floor like she had been in her bedroom the night before. She was ready to kill. And to enjoy it. Every muscle, every cell, every nerve in her body was primed to slash and burn everything in her path, screaming for blood, screaming for death.

But then Lath motioned languidly behind him and snapped his fingers. It was like someone had suddenly snapped on a radio to full blast. Even Paul, with his weathered concert-going ears, winced. An unearthly caucophony broke forth, howls and shrieks that were anything but human. The hillside was suddenly swarming…with dogs. Huge dogs. All colors and patterns, all of them yowling and pacing, frothing at the mouth, eager to receive the signal to hunt. It was a sea of black, gray, white, brindle, gold, like a swirling painting dotted with feral amber spots, watching, waiting. But their movements were too swift for hounds. They were too large, the muscles under their fur rippling far too obviously. Adrian's hackles rose and the deep-throated growl that David had heard him make earlier came from his throat again. "Hellhounds."

Paul's hand trembled at the crossbow's trigger. Cate steadied him with a glance as Lath called out across the field. "Send over two of your own to negotiate, and I will come down unarmed."

The large man began to walk across the field, towards Lath, with Cate following about ten yards behind after laying her knives on the ground in plain view. Lath whistled and five white hounds wove their way through the teeming pack and came to his side. They snarled and rubbed against him, drooling on his feet, as if begging permission to go. He made no motion to send them, but instead began to take a few steps forward. The dogs remained where they were, making strange whimpering noises as Lath walked away.

David watched the dogs warily.

Cate, I don't like this. Come back. Come back now.

One of the hounds lunged but stopped itself again almost immediately, its clawed front feet digging into the dirt to stop its forward progress as if it had his a brick wall. It turned and joined the others again, howling in dismay as if its owner had kicked it. Daniel and Cate were halfway across when Lath snapped his fingers again.

And that was the signal.

The first hound was on Daniel immediately, and the sickening crunch of bone echoed in the evening air. Daniel was dead before he hit the ground. Unarmed, Cate was rooted to the ground as the hounds focused on her.

Adrian turned so fast none of them even saw it. All they saw was a huge rush of black fur and teeth, three times the size of the hounds. David had never seen a lycanthrope fully changed. It wasn't some sort of awkward man-beast. Adrian was all wolf. At least five feet at the shoulder, thick black fur and a long muzzle baring a stunning array of teeth. He collided with the hounds and two were immediately laid low by a huge sweep of a front paw and flash of teeth. One leapt on his back, clamping onto the thick skin around the back of his neck, while the other two snapped at his legs, trying to get at his belly. The wolf flipped himself and rolled over on the ground like a dog drying itself off, and the hound on his back yelped as its bones were crushed by the tremendous force of his weight. But in that moment, the two others made their move, one to the abdomen and one to the neck. The wolf snarled, whirling in circles, trying to dislodge them. But they held on as if their jaws were locked, using their front paws, inflicting wound after devastating wound. Not a single person on the clan's side could get a good shot at anything. The wolf was moving too fast. The black fur began to mat together with blood and it's whirling movements became more erratic. With a colossal stretch of his hind leg, he managed to kick the dog hanging on to his abdomen off. But the hound did not let go of its prey that easily. As its body flew a good six feet from the scene, so did a large chunk of flesh, still clenched between its teeth. The enormous black beast that had once been Adrian screamed and crashed to the ground.

Lath had watched the entire encounter with a sneer. He whistled. The remaining hound released its hold on the wolf's huge neck and returned to its master's side, bloody froth dripping from its mouth. Cate threw her crossbow to the ground and ran forward. The wolf was shuddering, its tongue lolling on the ground, flecked with blood. The black fur began shortening, inch by inch. The hind legs stretched and muzzle retracted. Soon the only thing lying on the ground where the wolf had been was Adrian, with a long, ripping wound to his stomach. Cate pressed her hands to it, realizing with horror that his hands, combined with hers, were practically the only things holding his organs inside his body. "David!" she screamed.

David was already there and was wrapping his trenchcoat as tightly as he could around Adrian's midsection. "Cate, pull on this. Pull, now!"

Adrian's eyes were glassy but he was still conscious. The trenchcoat had compressed the wound enough to slow the bleeding, but none of them knew if it had been in time. After a final wrapping of the coat, Cate leapt to her feet, screaming obscenities, David right on her heels, both of them ready to wreak vengeance.

But Lath, his pack, and his hounds were gone. The hillside was empty.