((Hello, bats and belles! Sorry this took so long, but it's been a VERY rough week and the weekend wasn't much better either. I hope you like this chapter, which should get you up to speed on where thing stand in Santa Carla at the moment. Don't worry, the action begins in the next installment! As always, comments warm my soul, as well as giving me the drive to keep going! See you next time!))
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Earlier That Same Evening
The summer air was pleasantly warm, the remaining heat from the day radiating out of the ground in gentle waves as the earth released it like a sigh. David sat on his usual chair on the porch of the old Comstock house, the place he'd been calling home for the last three decades. Save for a major repaint in the early 90's and some of the decorations inside, the house still looked much the same as it did when he first arrived. They'd built a real garage in what could be considered a corner of the backyard, with concrete floors and power generators so Marko could tinker to his little black heart's content. The old shed still stood in the yard, empty except for some old tools and some gardening equipment. Sometimes pigeons roosted in it, which also made Marko very happy, so they left it there, fixing it now and then when it leaned too far to the side. Paul had hung a tire swing from one of the trees lining the property around the turn of the millennium, and Dwayne could sometimes be seen carving patterns into pieces of an old log that had fallen over last year. Mae kept some flowers in little pots on the windowsills, so when the breeze was just right, the smell of jasmine would briefly overwhelm the acrid pollution of cigarette smoke lingering on the porch. From the outside looking in, you could never tell that everyone in the house was a creature of the night.
David placed a cigarette between his lips and lit up, savoring the first drag like a fine wine. Tonight had been relatively easy for him: he'd met with his subordinates, his "made men", if you wanted to go with the mafia angle some of the newer covens operated on. Lukas, Nash, Calpurnia, Sato, Kai, Aminah, Quinn, Vic, Murtagh, Sparrow, Red, Lee, Jamie, Caleb, and Trip were the soldiers of the Santa Carla coven, official members who had the privilege of wearing the laughing skull that had come to symbolize the city's ruling family. He hadn't sired any of his men; he'd long ago decided that he would keep his blood family small, turning only those that he could trust without a shadow of a doubt. With the exception of Mae, who he would have turned himself had The Widow not gotten there first, he had yet to meet someone else he felt deserved the honor. His men were made up of vampires that had wandered into Santa Carla and never really left, proving themselves with blood and sweat by protecting the city at the risk of their immortal lives. In return for their loyalty and obedience, David gave them stability and status, a place to call home for as long as they wanted. Not once had they betrayed him, and he made sure that their pockets were never empty and their stomachs were always full.
Tonight's meeting had been about security for the upcoming wedding, an event that had been giving him a headache for months. About a year ago, Casper had proposed to Túlio, offering his heart and soul to his beloved in the most permanent way possible. Vampires usually weren't the marrying kind; when they did bond, it was by mating, a sometimes vicious exchange of bites whose marks would never disappear, creating a link that could never be broken, except by their final deaths. Túlio, however, was a man who loved ceremony and circumstance, and what Túlio wanted, Túlio got, as far as Casper was concerned. Santa Carla had been the obvious choice of location, and David had been happy to agree when the guest list had been relatively small. What no one had counted on was the other ruling covens of the world wanting in on the rather unusual ceremony, and if peace was to be maintained, Túlio couldn't exactly say no. David had nearly destroyed half of the house the night he'd discovered this little fact.
After a rather heated argument with Mae (and Paul of all people), David had been convinced not to rescind his approval for the wedding to take place in his city, instead handing off most of the detail-oriented tasks to Marko and Mae, knowing that they wouldn't be as easily tempted into homicide as he would be if he had to do it. Despite delegating most of the work, David wasn't satisfied with just sitting back and relaxing, so he and Dwayne worked on making sure that Santa Carla became something of a supernatural fortress for the week of arrivals before the wedding itself. No expense was spared in making sure that the sudden influx of vampires wouldn't upset the balance of life in the city. As far as the citizens of the murder capital of the world were concerned, peak tourist season had come early, and nothing more.
Smoke hung around David's head like his own personal fog, obscuring the finer details of the night sky for several long moments. David waved it away when he was bored of squinting through the haze, staring up at the unchanging stars shining through the light pollution of the city. Santa Carla hadn't really changed in any meaningful way, and that was the way he liked it. Oh, sure, technology marched on, but the important things remained the same. What had once been Max's video store became an iPhone repair shop, but most of the grungy bars near the main drag were still there, smelling like stale beer soaked in seawater. Fashion cycled through its frenetic changes, sometimes dipping back into the neon-colored syrup of the 80's for inspiration. The 80's were probably his favorite decade of the last century, so seeing the trends show up in the boutique windows was always pleasant. These days, the 90's were more in vogue, but keeping up with street wear was more of Mae's thing, since Túlio was nothing if not a gossiping clotheshorse. The outward appearances of Santa Carla might have neatened up once the new century began, but underneath was still the sticky-sweet tang of blood and decay.
His brothers and sister had changed with the times as well, some more than others. David was content to dress much the same as he had for the last several decades; after all, "biker chic", as Mae liked to call it, was always in vogue. He'd grown his hair out in the late 90's, cut it partway through the first decade of the new millennium, and was now in the process of growing it out again. It almost reached his shoulders now, the platinum blonde strands standing out against the dark shirts and jackets he favored. Dwayne had been forced to put on a shirt when fashions changed, although he went without as often as possible. He still liked to wear his same old jacket, letting Mae repair it as needed, although that was all that remained of his old clothes. Since Dwayne was David's right hand, he needed to be able to fight at a moment's notice, so comfort was the order of the day. Dark jeans and old band shirts allowed for movement and flexibility, although Mae sometimes wrangled him into something less bland. David snickered, remembering one time in particular when Mae and Paul manhandled Dwayne into a Victorian getup for a party at Pandemonium. For all of Dwayne's complaining, he was strutting around like a goddamn supermodel by the time the night was over.
Marko switched between 50's greaser and hipster with alarming frequency. If he wasn't in a leather jacket and black converse with his hair slicked back, he had his curls tucked under a beanie or a wide-brimmed felt hat, a pea coat and combat boots making him look like he'd just stepped out a Pinterest post. (The fact that David knew what Pinterest was still sickened him to this day). Paul still clung to his rocker days, although he'd left the mountains of hairspray and fishnet shirts behind in the 80's. He shared Mae and Túlio's passion for the latest runway looks, always ready to doll up in whatever caught his fancy. Lately he'd been sticking to tight black jeans, studded boots, and whatever jacket he'd bought down in Rodeo Drive when he accompanied Mae on her visits down to see her brother. The money Mae had inherited from Miguel had grown under Mae's shrewd eye for investments, so at least they didn't have to worry about Paul's latest addiction robbing them blind.
Speaking of his sister, Mae still leaned towards goth on most days, minus the existential ennui and copious amounts of white face paint. David took a final pull on his cigarette as he watched the youngest of his family ride up on her bike, waves and waves of frustration and annoyance rolling off of her. He could tell tonight's visit to Pandemonium to conduct business had been rough without even needing to tap into their mental link. David admired the cut of her jacket as she marched towards the house, the fabric tailored to show off her figure in the best possible way. Her hair color changed nearly every month these days, and though she would never admit it out loud, once she was able to afford it, her latent vanity demanded only the best in clothes and accessories. She'd come a long way from the girl who sold trinkets on the pier, the freedoms of her new life coaxing out traits she'd kept suppressed during her years of poverty. He was proud of her. Over the many years of his undead life, David had realized that a person showed their truest colors when the restrictions of mortal life were taken away from them. He reveled in seeing his family indulge in their darkest delights, the things the world would shame them for…if they still cared what the world thought.
With his cigarette gone and Mae already inside the house, David took one last look at the stars before heading inside. He felt something warm spread through him when he saw Dwayne and Mae curled together on the couch like little kids, his sister smiling and his brother dozing contentedly. Paul threw him a wink as David focused his senses towards the attic, hearing nothing, which meant that Marko was probably talking to his girlfriend instead of finishing his work. David leaned against the wall, taking in the sight for another moment before finally interrupting. He would never admit to the warmth in his chest or the contentment he felt deep in his very bones at seeing his family safe and happy inside their home. It was too human, too soft, too dangerous, so instead, he fell back into his usual refuge of sarcasm, shoving his gentler emotions to the back of his mind where they belonged.
"Aaaaw, did I interrupt something?"
Mae's irritated glare was worth it.
New York
The Next Night
A layover in New York meant sleeping in a fancy hotel, not that he was complaining. One of the benefits of being so deep into his master's good graces was that he was always a part of his sire's personal entourage, never far from his side and always welcome to whatever luxuries his sire partook in. He set his champagne flute on an end table, his bare feet making no sound on the plush carpeting. His mate sat on the California King bed, a deck of cards fluttering between her hands as she shuffled them. Some of their other companions were spread around the room, drinking and talking quietly as they passed the time, waiting for the sun to rise so they could finally fall asleep. His sharp eyes ran across the room once more, assessing, looking for threats or any spaces between the heavy curtains. This hotel was old, and was used to accommodating guests of their nature, but that didn't mean that sabotage was out of the question. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, he climbed onto the bed next to his mate, grinning as he pressed a soft kiss to her neck. His smile turned smug when he felt the shiver travel up her spine, the gentle bumps of her ribs under his hands moving against his palms. She giggled quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the suite.
"What do the cards say tonight, babe?" He whispered, nuzzling her ear with his nose.
"I was just about to see, love." She murmured, drawing the first card from the deck. "I'm asking them about you, about what your future holds."
"Again?" He asked, curious as to why she was checking his fate over and over.
"The answer keeps changing, and sometimes the results are…alarming. I want to get a steady reading to guide me." She replied. Within a few moments, three cards lay face up before her on the duvet.
"…What do they mean?" He eventually broke the silence, worried that it was something terrible. For all that his lover had been reading the tarot for decades, he'd never once picked up on any of the meanings. It just went right over his head.
"This is just a basic three card spread. The first one is the past, then the present, and finally the future. Your past is this card, The Chariot. You always get this one for your past, so I'm not too concerned about it. When The Chariot is upright, it means that there was a great conflict in your past, a crisis that you overcame that shapes your present."
"I think I know what it's referring to." He huffed, darkly amused. When his lover didn't share in his humor, he became serious once again. "And the next one?"
"Your present is The Knight of Swords." She tapped the card in question. "He means change, possibly a positive one, but definitely a change that will affect your life forever. While he may look cheerful, he's still struggling against the wind, see?" She held up the card, showing her lover the picture of a bold knight with a wide grin riding against the wind. "It's usually a good card, but the change may not be what you expect. It may be more of a challenge than a change."
"I see. And the last one?"
"Tonight it's The Hermit in reverse. This one's a troublesome one when it comes to you, my love." She sighed. "It usually means that you're spending too much time alone with your thoughts, away from others, but you're never so anti-social. There's a lesser-known meaning, though: you're not focusing inward enough. If the future goes on unchanged, then you will need to stop and think about who you truly are, otherwise you will fail in your goals."
He sat silently, studying the picture of a lonely old man as he mulled over her words. While he wasn't the greatest believer in the mystical powers of the cards, sometimes they gave insights into problems you were already thinking over. He ran his hand up and down her bare arm, thinking about their trip to California tomorrow for the wedding of the Lord of Los Angeles. Their sire had insisted on attending, drawing him from the relative safety of his own court in Europe to what their sire liked to call "the wild frontier" of America. Despite his youthful appearance, their sire was old and wise, cunning and devious. He was worried that their sire intended to start trouble with whoever was in charge of the haven city they were traveling to. No one had bothered to tell them where they were going, not that they cared. All he'd heard was that they were landing somewhere near San Francisco, so he hadn't paid much attention beyond that. His lover had heard nothing as well, so who knew what they were walking into? He was something of a bodyguard to his sire, so he probably should have listened better. Oh, well.
"So? What do you think, baby? Should I be worried?" He asked, sucking a bruise into her delicate skin.
"Maybe. Maybe not. It's been so unclear…" She frowned, leaning into his touches.
"Then let's not worry about it tonight, okay? Put your cards away, baby, and let's do something a little more enjoyable, hm?"
With a laugh, he knocked the deck onto the floor, ignoring her squawk about treating her things with respect. He dove beneath her skirt, tugging at her panties as aroused moans began to fill the air, drawing the attention of their companions. They had no qualms about making love in public, and putting on a show was sexy.
They didn't notice one of their number leaving the room, unwilling to watch his brother fuck his mate, even after all these years. He wasn't that depraved…yet.
Santa Carla
The wind tangled mariner's knots in Mae's hair as she tore through the city, her Ducati Sport 1000 eating up the miles beneath her. Paul had teased her about buying the exact same motorcycle as a character from a movie, but Sam looked so damn good on the bike in "Tron: Legacy" that Mae's inner nerd had made her dig into her not-insubstantial savings and buy one fresh off the line. She'd even had decals added to the bike to give it the signature blue energy lines from the movie.
Yeah, totally worth the teasing.
Tonight's theme at Pandemonium had been EDM, the anxiously pulsing beats a fitting match to the growing dread in her gut. Tomorrow, their most important guests arrived: the Romanian coven, the oldest continuously running coven in the world, said to have been formed by the forefather himself: Count Dracula. Few alive could confirm that, of course, but it worked in their favor. In the Old World, titles and bloodlines were everything. While Dracula's only confirmed coven was long dead, the Romanians held staunchly to all the traditions that the vampires who'd moved to the New World had left behind long ago. If vampires could have royalty, they would be it. Of course, royalty meant nothing to Americans, but if you wanted to have any dealings with the upper eastern hemisphere, then you had to go through the Romanians. Túlio, in the tradition of the Los Angeles covens, wanted to keep things friendly with their cousins across the sea, so that meant that the Santa Carla coven had to play nice. Mae honestly couldn't give two shits about the Romanians, but it meant a lot to her brother to have them taken care of and protected, so she would play the game, and play it well.
She pulled up to the edge of the cliffs above the caves, hiding her bike between two rocks to keep it out of sight of the road. David's was already parked there, but since she saw no other bikes, she assumed that none of her brothers were there with him. She made sure her ride was stable, then headed down into the caves. David hadn't told her where to meet him, just to find him when she was finished with her business at Pandemonium. Fucking asshole, he could never make things easy, could he? She'd already been home and back looking for the motherfucker. Normally, her inner monologue wouldn't be so vitriolic towards her eldest brother, especially when he could hear it through their mental link, but she wasn't exactly in the mood to give a shit right now. Something brushed against her mind, a sensation not unlike the whisper of fabric against the back of her neck, and Mae rolled her eyes. For some reason, the sensation was David's mental equivalent of a laugh, meaning he'd heard her loud and clear. She sent some extremely graphic insults his way, only to hear laughter ringing through the caves loud and clear in the real world.
"I didn't know you could be so crude, sister dear." David purred, snickering at the last one she sent to him before she stepped into his field of vision.
The blonde was perched on what was once the main couch up at their house, but was now one of the many seats down here in the old hotel. Time had worn the fabric down, with little tufts of cushioning poking out here and there. David still somehow made it look like a throne. Fucking dick.
"I heard that."
"If I didn't want you to hear it, David, you wouldn't have." Mae sneered, flopping down onto the couch next to her brother, leaning into him and ruining her façade of aloofness.
"That rough a night, huh?" David raised an eyebrow, taking a drag from his cigarette. In the years since Mae had been turned, she had come to mind the smell less and less, but she still insisted that he refrain from smoking inside of the house. Here in the cave, however, he could do as he pleased without worrying about sisterly bitching ruining his fun.
"You would know if you had been there." Mae huffed, pulling her legs onto the couch and curling into him more.
"I was meeting with Paul and Calpurnia. Lee spotted some sketchy fuckers lingering around the beaches last night. Dwayne was out with Marko, so we investigated it."
"And?"
"Turns out it was nothing, just some idiots who look too furtive for their own good."
"Oooo! Using the big words tonight, eh?" Mae cackled when David swatted her upside the head, ignoring the pain in favor of enjoying how David's shoulder relaxed under her cheek.
"Fuck off."
"Nah. You'd miss me too much."
"It'd be a hell of a lot quieter around here." David grumbled, not meaning a goddamn word of it.
"Not with Paul around." Mae grinned, sitting up a bit to meet David's eyes.
"…Fair enough." He relented, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for a few moments as David's cigarette gradually burned down to the halfway point.
"Tomorrow's the big day." Mae whispered, staring at the fire in one of the oil drums.
"I thought the big day was on Saturday." David replied, even though he knew what she was really talking about.
"Frankly, I'd rather it be Saturday now and skip the rest of this week, but that's not what I meant." Mae sighed.
"I know."
"Have you talked to the men? Anyone see anything wrong besides the lurkers? I gotta check in with Casper, see if he's heard anything. Túlio's off in San Diego right now, can you believe it? The man can't stop working, not even on the week of his own goddamn wedding. It's in three days, you know! If he doesn't make it up here in time I'm gonna wring his fucking neck!" Mae growled. Her habit of talking so fast that the words almost melted into each other hadn't faded with the decades, despite her prolonged absence from the rush of big city life. "And Lukas hasn't sent me that update on the alcohol, I'm gonna need a shitload to get through dealing with the smarmy bastards tomorrow, and I don't even have a list of who's coming! Not even Marko knows who's coming, and he's Marko! Sato said something about the Brazilians nearly causing a riot at the pier, I swear to god if they repeat the Houston incident I'm gonna…"
Mae's words were cut off when David grabbed her chin, making her look at him. He held her gaze, forcing her to remain still and silent until the tension bled out of her body. It was one of the more effective ways of quieting one of her notorious rants, but he used it sparingly, so the effect wouldn't diminish. A flicker of smug satisfaction flashed through his mind; he had a way with people, and he knew it, using his natural magnetism to draw even the oldest of his friends in with just his eyes. He felt Mae swallow, the sound thick in the relative silence of the cave.
The moment was broken when a log snapped inside the oil drum, the dry wood breaking apart as it burned up. Mae blinked, breaking out of the trance, her wide-eyed gaze replaced with a glare.
"You fucking asshole. You know I hate it when you do that!" She huffed, barely stopping herself from crossing her arms like a child.
"You weren't going to stop any time soon, and I was getting tired of seeing you talk yourself into circles. Relax. The night's nearly over, and we're as ready as we're going to be. We can handle it. All you need to worry about is talking pretty and keeping yourself from judging them too obviously." David smirked, thinking of all the times flowery words had spilled from Mae's lips while, through their blood bond, she'd shit talked her current victim to her brothers with a vitriol David had to admire.
"I'll do my best." Mae leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling of the cave.
"I know you will. I don't say this a lot, Mae, but you play the game so well that you could have fooled even me if I'd never met you before." He raised his cigarette to his lips, the death stick on its last legs.
"What's this? A compliment? From the ice king himself? Has hell frozen over or something?" Mae teased, poking at David's side while he stoically ignored her literal ribbing.
When she realized she was being ignored, Mae ramped up her attack, squirming onto her knees and poking at David's face, all the stresses of the day pushed to the side in favor of breaking her brother's mask of indifference. David managed another two draws from his cigarette before finally breaking, taking a deep inhale before blowing a thick cloud of smoke directly onto Mae's face. Her squawk of indignation and frantic arm waving drew a loud bout of laughter from his lips. By the time the smoke had dispersed, Mae was giving him a death stare that could kill even the strongest of men, but was useless against him. Frankly, she looked more like a disgruntled kitten than a serious threat. When he made to take a last pull from his cigarette, Mae snatched it out of his hands, holding it just out of his reach.
"Mae…?" His head tilted slightly to the side, his eyes narrowing even as he raised an eyebrow, a sign that his patience was running dangerously low. He held out his hand, the closest he would come to asking for his cigarette back.
Instead of either handing it over or doing something stupid (like tossing it into the fountain), Mae put the paper to her lips, breathing in the nicotine-laced smoke and holding it in her mouth. She tossed the useless remains aside, leaning down to hover a hairsbreadth over David's mouth. For a brief second, it looked like David's lips would remain pressed together, but then he parted them, breathing in as Mae breathed out, shotgunning the last of the cigarette. Some of the vapor escaped, pouring down his jaw and down to his neck before finally dissipating. Mae leaned back, watching as David exhaled with a satisfied hum.
Despite her movements, they were still awfully close together, close enough to feel the breaths they only ever took out of habit blowing against their cheeks. They let the moment linger, the unspoken question hovering in the air between their chests. It was Mae who broke the tension, leaning back in once more, a shiver of delight racing down her spine as her lips just barely touched David's.
"…Goodnight, David." She whispered, pulling away and standing up, heading back up the stairs towards the fading night. It was neither the time nor the place for such things, and they both knew it. Still, the chase was often the best part of the hunt, and anticipation only made the feast more delicious.
"Goodnight, Mae." David murmured, knowing that she could hear him despite the growing distance. He fished his pack from his pocket, knocking out another cigarette, the click of the lighter loud in the silence. Mae wasn't wrong; tomorrow was a big day, and he would take his peace where he could get it.
Up on the cliffs, Mae was just about to start the engine when the sound of shitty Top 40 music reached her ears. She scanned the horizon, spotting a fire a mile away, far too close to the caves for comfort. Some frat boys, it looked like, entertaining their dates. Hmph. The Surf Nazis might be gone, but new idiots had come to take their place. Mae pulled out her phone and checked the time. Huh. She had a few hours to spare before she really needed to be home, and she hadn't had a fresh meal in ages.
With a feral grin, Mae left her bike behind, taking a running leap off the cliffs before flying towards the bonfire.
She was a sucker for late-night snacks.
