The next few weeks passed with several events. Firstly, David had his first levitation; rousing him from sleep to find himself on the ceiling. It was only when Max came in and, after congratulating him, gave him directions on how to stop levitating that he returned to his bed. David didn't see how it deserved congratulations. It just made him feel even further from his previous life. Now, he rested on his bed with ropes loosely tied over his legs and chest, securing him to the bed. If he floated again, he could only rise a foot over his bed at most.

Secondly, his legs were healed enough for him to walk. It was a pleasant experience to be able to stand up and take his first steps. He felt like a child, discovering its own ability to walk for the first time. Even so, he liked being able to get up and sit on Dwayne's bed if he so desired. The freedom of movement was a delight.

Thirdly, Dwayne's chest had healed enough for him to speak. He didn't do it much, but the cuts and various bruises were gone. Faintly pink scars were all that remained on the surface of his body. And his eyes were recovered-Max didn't know it, but there was moments when the blindfold was removed and he could see. They would let Max in on the secret. Eventually.

They had finished reading Dracula, and quite enjoyed it. Just the previous night, they had spent perhaps half the night discussing the powers Count Dracula had. Max had decided to tell them that, no, they could not become mist, or turn into wolves or bats. No, they could not walk in the sun as full vampires or crawl down walls. Yes, as David had inadvertedly demonstrated, they could fly. Yes, holy water burned them, no garlic did not. Yes, no, yes no. He seemed to find it amusing, crushing their shared fantasies. They, on the other hand, did not find it so amusing.

He admitted that he wasn't going to tell them everything about being a vampire, saying that they needed to find it out on their own. That annoyed them both, and agreed that they didn't have to tell Max everything.

They had eaten very little since the earthquake. Besides one bowl of soup, they had eaten a few pieces of toasted bread and a cracker between them. For the most part, they drank from the wine bottle. It seemed to sustain the hunger of two half vampires, and Max replaced it with another bottle as the last was emptied. They had no idea how many bottles of blood he had, but it was a week before the original bottle returned.

The earthquake had undeniably changed their lives, and they had mostly become accustomed to lying in bed all night and sleeping all day. David read Dracula aloud to Dwayne, and they'd occasionally talk about what would be their new life. Little was said in general about their lives before, but it hung in the back of David's mind. Sometimes, he wondered why he had been so worried about his parents at first.

They were rereading Dracula when something…strange…happened to Dwayne. They had reached Transylvania on the backs of Van Helsing and the others, when Dwayne's hands clenched at the sheets and he let of a cry of unadulterated agony. His shoulders rolled inwards as he buckled and thrashed in his bed. It stopped after a moment, but there was a sheen of sweat on his face.

David could only watch as Dwayne sniffed the air, his mouth opening at the smell of David's blood. Two fangs were nestled in his mouth. He breathed heavily, like a starved animal.

David didn't know what to do. Max wasn't home, so he couldn't tell them what to do. Dwayne's thoughts were incoherent, but one word kept floating in his brain: Pain. The wine bottle sat between them. It was the only things that he could think of, maybe Dwayne's chest wasn't as healed as they thought and he grew fangs as a reaction to pain.

Cautiously, David sat up and reached across to Dwayne. If the blood in the bottle didn't work, he didn't know what would. The bottle was half-full, thankfully, and he managed to get close to his mouth without being bitten. Dwayne calmed a little at the smell of blood, and allowed the bottle to be tipped into his mouth.

The blood did the trick, and his fangs receded into his gums. David lay the wine bottle back on the nightstand and lay on his own bed. Dwayne's thoughts began to trickle back to him.

"What happened?" David asked him.

It was several minutes before Dwayne responded. "I-I don't know. There was a pain in my stomach. All I know is that I badly wanted blood-human blood." He hesitated. "But when you gave me the blood in the bottle, it stopped."

David frowned. He could almost feel the pain racing through Dwayne's mind, his own hand absently rising to lie on his stomach. Was his reaction caused by the shift to vampirism? He had never seen Max deal with it.

"Maybe we should ask our 'Father'."

Dwayne nodded. "Can you find our spot in the book?"

David nodded and picked Dracula off the floor, where it had lain since he dropped it in worry.

Max returned at three, as he usually did. The boys knew the restaurant closed at midnight, but neither knew what he did for three hours. They had hazarded a few guesses; eating a few victims being the top. Could drinking someone's blood really last three hours? Both agreed it probably didn't. What he did was something they planned to discover.

Max returned like clockwork, at three almost exactly. He poked his head in their room, his face a little less pale than normal. This, they had come to associate with feeding. There was also a small blood smear above his lip. "Hello, boys." he said in greeting. "Are you both doing alright?"

"Yes, Max. But something happened while you were out." David began, looking over at Dwayne briefly before continuing. "Dwayne had a pain in his stomach. Really wanted human blood. Does that mean anything?"

Max's face lit up. "It's a positive sign."

David felt surprise from his brother. "Why?"

"Well, it means that he is reaching the point where he'll be willing to hunt and make his first kill, of course."

Was that what it was? Bloodlust as a sign of maturing? He was almost jealous. How come Dwayne-who had been turned after him-became matured as a half vampire faster?

"Easily. His body was more severely injured, so he needs more blood. Thus, the desire rose faster."

David fumed. Max was reading his thoughts again. "So, it'll happen to me eventually?"

"Yes. When you can no longer fight the urge subconsciously, the pain will manifest and the bloodlust will rise." Max's finger traced the rim of the wine bottle. "And when it does, just drink my blood in the bottle. It will help immensely. In fact, that's probably why it took this long for it rise. I'm guessing you did that for Dwayne?"

He nodded.

"Good. Now then, boys, I'll be gone for the rest of the night, so behave."

"Think he's lying?" Dwayne asked, once Max's footsteps were gone.

"No. I mean, drinking from the bottle helped you, didn't it?"

Dwayne gave a small shrug. "I suppose. Since I don't feel any worse for it."

It was silent for a while. David shifted in his bed and said, "I'm going to try floating again. You going to try?"

"I'll let you try first." Dwayne gave him a wolfish grin. "That way, if you can't do it, I know I'll probably be unable to."

"Thanks." David responded sarcastically, before taking a deep breath. He had no idea whatsoever how it worked. It was a surprise when he woke up next to the ceiling. And although Max had told him how to get down, he wanted to learn how to get up. That would be the hard part.

He pulled his legs over the ropes, marveling at their undamaged appearance. Max had said that, at first, they had been covered in cuts, his bones broken, and now, there was only pink scars left. Under the surface, he knew that the muscles were almost done healing, the bones were mended, and recovery was in its end stages. It was obvious already that they recuperated much faster than they did as normal people.

David closed his eyes and focused. Up. He wanted to go up. Thoughts were entirely concentrated upon this point, and he pictured himself rising to meet the ceiling once more. Rising higher, unbound by the ground…

Nothing happened the first time. He was unsuccessful the second time as well. It was only on the third try that he felt the bed disappear underneath. He cracked his eyes open. He was just barely floating, but he was still floating. There was definitely space between him and the blankets.

"Dwayne, I did it!" David cried. The lack of concentration dropped him the tiny distance back to the bed. He was ecstatic. It might have been only a tiny amount, be he was still very pleased with himself. To say that he had managed even a little flight was pleasing.

"Good job." Dwayne's voice had become less raspy and creaky than when he first woke up, but it was still not what David guessed to be normal. "Are you trying again tonight?"

"Maybe once more. So I know it wasn't fluke."

David took another breath to relax himself. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated again on rising. He knew that this probably wasn't going to be easy, but he had done it once, hadn't he? He should be able to do it again.

Slowly, the bed seemed to fade underneath him. He couldn't feel the blankets that had been pressed to his back and legs. If he dropped his hand, then the bed was still just under him. But it was a start.

David lowered himself as Max had dictated, a grin on his face. "Not bad, huh?" There was a pain in the palms of his hands, and when he opened his clenched fists, realized that his nails had dug into his palms. Funny. He had never grown his nails long. Or to be pointed, for that matter.

He held up one hand in front of him, examining his nails closely. They had definitely grown since their arrival at Max's, and they had grown sharp and pointy. "Wonder if this is one of Max's surprises of vampirism," he muttered. It wouldn't be unexpected if it was. Their sire had a thing for keeping his secrets.

Actually, David hadn't shaved since their arrival, and he had grown a beard. He'd ask for a mirror and shaving supplies tomorrow.

He looked over at Dwayne. He had been able to sit up for a week or two now, and no longer faced the ceiling. His hair could have benefited from a trim before, but now, it was downright long. It reached to the tops of his shoulder, maybe even a little longer. If he had a mirror, he'd guess that his own had grown as well. Certainly seemed to fall into his eyes more than ever. Dwayne wore the blindfold, since Max had just left, but David knew what his eyes looked like underneath. They were dark, obsidian spheres. It made him think of the depths of a cave, inky black and full of secrets.

"Did you do it?" Dwayne asked.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, forgot about the blindfold." David replied. "Not high up, but, yes, it worked." It had also left him tired, and he reached for the wine bottle out of reflex. He drank directly from the neck, not bothering with the goblet.

The next night Max agreed to give David a shaving mirror and supplies. He did tell him first, though, that what he saw in the mirror might surprise him. David didn't believe him, until he noticed that he could see his pillow through his head. He promptly dropped the mirror, staring at it on his lap. "The-the mirror-" he said haltingly. "I was-see through-"

"Hm? Oh, yes. That's an unfortunate part of being a vampire." Max said. His tone was rather casual. "No reflection."

Thanks for the warning, Max. David though sarcastically, careful to try and hide the thought. "Doesn't that make shaving difficult?"

"No. Not at all." Their current father figure shot a mysterious smile. "You'll discover why soon enough. Now, go ahead and shave. Would you like some mortal food?"

David nodded. He lifted up the mirror again and just watched his transparent image for a few minutes. That had given him a scare. Good God, he could see the crinkles in the pillows behind him.

Had he just used God's name in vain?

The fact that he had startled him. That was uncouth, that was defamatory, that was blasphemy.

He didn't really care.

God could visit Satan for all he cared. That was the disturbing part. He was going to live forever, why should he care for religion or the church? And, for that matter, why did he have to care for his former family? For a minute, he didn't care one speck for them, caring about them only out of obligation. And Emily-was that lust or love? David couldn't say.

He returned his thought to shaving and lifted the razor to his face, but stopped. He should be doing this in a lavatory, or, at the very least, not on his bed.

The mirror and razor were placed on the nightstand. Soap and brush. How could he get lather if there was no soap or brush? Or water? When Max came back in, he'd have to ask. In the meantime, he examined the razor. It was obvious that it hadn't been used, since there was no sign of sharpening or lather stain. Maybe Max had a supply, or maybe he frequented a barber's.

That was when Max returned with sloppily made sandwiches. "Hope you boys like chicken." He said. He placed one plate on Dwayne's lap, where he was able to find the sandwich and begin eating. David's was laid on the nightstand. Max paused when he noticed that David hadn't started shaving.

"Didn't you want to shave?" he asked, a small frown forming.

"Yes, but I need a lather brush and soap. Not to mention water." David replied, reaching for his sandwich.

"Ah, right. I had forgotten that, hadn't I?" Max chuckled. "Been so long since I last shaved."

"When did you last shave?"

"Let me think-maybe, two, three hundred years ago?"

David blanched. There was not one hint of stubble on Max's face. "Then why is your face so smooth?"

Max reflexively ran a hand over his chin. "We don't grow hair after we turn. Nothing grows."

"Oh." There was silence for a minute, before Max spoke. "I'll get you the soap and brush. Won't take me an hour-and there's something I want to get for Thorn."

David had only heard him mention Thorn once before. He knew little of the dog, save for the fact that he was a Hellhound. And that crossing him would end in a rather painful demise.

"Alright."

Max was true to his word and was back an hour later. A box with a soap bowl and lather brush was in his hands. Whatever he had gotten for Thorn, he couldn't see. But David could smell meat, still rare enough to be bloody. Both he and Dwayne had to drink from the bottle to keep from lunging at Max's neck at the scent.

David admired the small bowl. There was a pattern on the outside, obviously expensive. "Mind you finish before daylight, I borrowed that from a barber's shop."

David looked up at Max. "You stole it?"

"Mhm. There's no such thing as stealing in our race. You want it, you take it."

"I see. I'll still need water to make lather."

"Fine. Just be careful not to spill any."

There it was again. The suspicion that Max was hiding a part of vampirism from them. David lowered his voice as Max went to the kitchen. "What do you think?"

"Are we allergic to water, now? I hope not, that would make bathing difficult." Dwayne, David had come to realize, didn't often speak unless he felt the need.

"Or maybe he just doesn't want his linens wet."

"True."

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

"You will indeed." Max announced as he came back in. There was a mug of warm water in his hands.

"Do you mean we'll be allergic?" David asked.

"No, you'll find out."

"Oh." David sat on the side of his bed and began mixing the lather. There wasn't any pain that he could feel, tingle or sting. Maybe water wouldn't hurt them. Shaving only took a few minutes, and he dipped his hand into the water to rinse what remained of the lather off.

"I'll get some more water to rinse." Max said. He turned to Dwayne briefly. "Will you also want to shave?"

Dwayne paused for a moment. "I suppose so." he decided.

With a nod, Max left and returned with more water. "Now, boys, I'm afraid that, after tonight, I'll be taking the bottle."

David and Dwayne exchanged matching looks of confusion. "Why?" David asked.

"Because I've decided that you've both recovered enough to make your first kills. And if I take away the bottle, your thirst will grow until you're willing to take the final step." Max paused, letting that much sink in. "So, no bottle or blood until then."

"Does that mean that this bottle is all we'll have from tonight until then?" Dwayne asked.

"Correct."

The mood became subdued as both half vampires realized what losing the bottle and making their first kills entailed. They would fully lose their remaining scraps of humanity, becoming immortal, bloodthirsty killers. What remained of their human families would grow older and die, and they would stay unchanging. Finally, Dwayne gave a nod in response, signifying his understanding. David merely studied Max for a moment, then looked away. Clearly that was all the answer he'd give.

"Well, I'll leave you two to enjoy your night, and I'm needed at the restaurant, anyways." Max said, before leaving their shared room one last time for the night.

Neither spoke for a few minutes. Finally, David said, "Well. Looks like he's finally said it."

Dwayne nodded, picking up the shaving equipment that David had placed on the nightstand. "Question is, how long will it be before we want to tear out each other's throats?"

-----

As they soon discovered, it wasn't long. As the second night drew to a close, both boys were easily angered. Crotchety was putting it mildly. By the third night, David had suffered his first hunger cramps, Dwayne his second. By the fifth, they could barely remain in their beds. And by the seventh, Max had to chain them down with his mind to keep them from biting one another.

That was what Max liked best about being a head vampire: Control over one's subordinates. Or sons, as it were.

A week had passed without either of the boys ingesting sire's blood, when Max entered the room. It was always the hardest part, to ensure they stayed down while they fought viciously to hunt. Even so, he had managed to get both of them dressed in decent clothes the night before-it had been more than a little uncomfortable to help them change their bed clothes every few days-which had become a little wrinkled from their writhing and straining, but still better than bedclothes.

His mental control over them became highly focused the moment before he entered the room. They were both in a state of fury, their vampire faces revealed all night as they gnashed at their own wrists to drink. It was almost amusing to watch. Almost.

The smell of sire's blood didn't help. With a firm grip on their minds, Max slashed his wrist open, filling the goblet with just a sip of blood. They each received just enough to temporarily calm them. Human features replaced the vampiric ones, as David shook his head in an attempt to clear the haze. Dwayne merely sat silently, his gaze at Max's neck not unnoticed.

"Follow me. Do not touch or attack anything or anyone." Max said firmly, leading the boys through his house. The pair obliged, not touching anything. David was pleading with their sire. "Max, can we have blood? Please?"

"That's where we're going, boys." Max replied. He paused just inside the door. "But listen first. I am not going to join you on your first hunt. But I will supervise and ensure it goes well. Here's how to do it properly…"

They listened impatiently as Max taught them the best way to hunt. "…Now, boys, follow me. Touch nothing, just get in the car and I'll take you where to go."

Max led them out the door and over to his car. He was quite proud of it, a Ford Model B. Just two years old, but it had cost him a pretty penny, since he had gone for every available feature. David sat next to Max, Dwayne on his other side. They looked beastly, with their long hair. Ah, well. That would have to do for now. He started the car, moving onto the street and into the night.

The smell of far off mortals was making David and Dwayne fidget. Lucky for them, it wasn't long before they arrived at their destination: A small group on the beach. Dedicated to those lost in the earthquake. Max thought it hilariously ironic to make it their first kills-dedicated to them and all.

Max stopped the car, walking the two boys to the edge overlooking the beach. They both knew what to do, so he left them and drove off.

The boys watched the mortals eagerly. They looked like pigs, fleshy pigs in clothes, plump, milling about to be devoured. The sound of their beating hearts thumped in their ears, the blood in their veins a roar to their desires. Their fangs descended, their pupils amber. Foreheads became prominent and cheekbones angular as they watched, waiting.

Finally, they could wait no longer. The wind shifted, the cloying scent of blood filled their nostrils. As one, they took to the air without realizing, landing heavily on a pair just outside the main group.

David tore the throat open instinctively and lowered his head to drink the warm blood. The invigorating rush that boiled through his veins made him roar, and the person lost an arm as he flung it at someone else. They became his next victim.

It took only a few minutes for the two to savage the ten people on the beach. The stood, breathing heavily, as they looked at the gore around them. Limbs had flown all about, and the sand underneath was stained crimson. A spastic shiver overtook David momentarily, a migraine joining it. When it faded away, his vision had sharpened and his hearing vastly improved. The darkness was no bother, he could see clearly even though there was no light.

"Well done," a voice said approvingly. They turned to see Max, hands clasped behind his back, approaching. He kicked a head from his path, before putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "Very good, boys! That was excellent to watch. You've become full vampires, and I couldn't be prouder."

A body at their feet let out the tiniest groan. David watched as Max picked it up by the scalp and merrily slit the throat. It was dropped back to the ground without another thought. "And now, you learn how to disguise kills."

Max showed them how to weight the clothed bodies down with beach rocks. Then he gave them flying pointers as they flew out over the waves, tossing the corpses where they wouldn't be found. "If you become desperate, or aren't near an ocean or lake, fling them into fire or find a way to totally destroy the evidence," he said. The stained sand was mixed with the rest throughout the beach.

David was on a euphoric high. When he had first discovered that Max had made him a vampire, he had worried that he would have to kill. And how he had pined for his family! Now, he knew, killing was an exciting part of unlife, and couldn't care less for his family. In fact, perhaps he would pay a little visit to San Francisco, give them a little message. A rather permanent one.

Max was calling out to him, up by his car. Dwayne was beside him, staring out at the sea. With a smirk, David trotted up to the car.