AN: Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed so far. We're loving writing it, and particularly like to know what you think. We'll keep going, though remember it is holiday season so some updates might not be as quick as the first few.

Enjoy!

Steven screamed anyway, his voice muffled by Brendan's hand, which didn't seem to calm the boy down.

"Shh!" Brendan breathed, warmly into the boy's ear. "Shh, it's OK, I'm here!"

"Yer what?" Steven shouted, though with the hand over his mouth it came out more like "Mm mph".

"Shhh, Steven," Brendan repeated; trying to be calm and collected enough for the both of them, despite the distracting nearness of Steven's exquisite bottom to his more than willing penis. "It's OK."

He could imagine what Steven was thinking. How could it be OK? There was a body in pieces right in front of them. Brendan had smelt it the moment he stepped outside the club, hoping to check on his fleeing employee. The slightly decomposing flesh and that annoying little dog would have been enough to turn his stomach, had he had a normal stomach.

"If I let go of your mouth do you promise not to scream?" asked Brendan, voice urgent but in control.

Steven nodded, though Brendan was not sure if he was listening. Brendan let him go slowly enough that he could be in control if the boy tried to run or scream. Thankfully he didn't try either.

He turned to Brendan equally slowly, "It's a body!" he gasped.

"Yes, Steven," Brendan replied.

Steven added, "A real one."

"Yes Steven," Brendan repeated, and Steven gave him that look that all humans seemed to give when Brendan did something they didn't think was human.

"There's a real dead body in a bin outside your club!"

Brendan raised an eyebrow, "I know that, Steven," he said, "I can… see him." He had thought about saying 'smell' but remembered in time that Steven hadn't figured out the whole vampire thing yet and thought it probably true that right now, in front of a dead body was a bad time to point that out.

"But…" stuttered Steven, "but…"

Steven was adorable when he stuttered. Brendan couldn't help but smile at him. "Look, come back inside, I'll get ye something to drink and you can calm down."

Brendan could have predicted the next question out of Steven's mouth.

"Did you do this?"

Brendan found himself irrationally annoyed. What did this kid think of him? As if he would do something like this! He was far too stylish to leave dead bodies in such a mess not entirely in a bin. "Seriously?" he said, "You think I dumped bits of some bloke around outside my club?"

The boy was probably still in shock. Brendan should probably forgive him for the next thing he said.

"But did you?"

"No," he said, making the word slow and enunciated in case Steven felt the need to not believe him again.

"But… what… wh… why…"

Steven was getting himself worked up now; stumbling over his words, gasping his breath and Brendan felt an urge he'd almost never felt before.

"Hey," he said gently, "hey," he wrapped his arm around Steven and Steven let him, leaning his face against his chest. "Shhh," Brendan soothed, feeling the warm body in his arms. He wanted another taste of that beautiful hot blood he could smell and craved, but never wanting a single drop to spill from the perfect creature before him. He took in the gorgeous scent again, felt the perfect shape in his arms and held the boy close until he stopped shaking. "You alright?" he whispered, stroking the soft hair gently.

Steven nodded against his chest, which Brendan took as a no and held on.

"It'll be OK," he said, "I'll just move it."

Steven pulled away. "You what?" he said, in that same stroppy voice he'd used to tell Brendan he wasn't going to sleep with him.

"What?" said Brendan, wondering what he'd done now.

"We can't just… move it!" said Steven, aghast.

"I don't want them finding it outside my club!" said Brendan, stating the obvious.

"But… that's where it is!" Steven protested.

"So that's why we're moving it," Brendan said slowly.

Steven looked a little lost, "But…" he began to protest, but Brendan saw his chance. Steven had resisted the mind control before, but he surely couldn't resist forever.

"Steven," he said, "go back inside, go into one of the booths and wait for me." He looked the boy up and down again, "and take all your clothes off."

Steven looked at him with wide eyes, with that tell-tale sign that he wanted nothing more than to submit to Brendan's will. Brendan smirked – he knew he still had it, whatever Mitzeee said. The boy turned slowly, obviously to do as instructed and Brendan only let himself feel a moment of excitement at the treat that he was going to partake in later. He turned his attention to the task in hand, moving this disgusting mess before him.

"Er, no. Right, you've got to call the police."

It was Steven. Back again. With attitude that made Brendan want to throw him against the nearest flat surface and fuck him until he screamed or bang his own head against a brick wall.

"Steven…"

"We've got to call the police."

"Oh yeah; that'll be great, won't it? Having a bunch of idiots trailing through my business."

"What have you got to hide, eh?" Steven demanded, like it was that simple.

But it would seem like that to the boy, wouldn't it? He didn't have to explain the bi-weekly blood arrivals, or the fact he couldn't even approach a window while the sun was up. And Brendan wasn't about to tell him.

"Fine," he said, "call them. I'm getting a drink." He glanced down at the dog he'd temporarily forgotten about. The thing had been deadly quiet and still since he'd arrived. Brendan could sense that something was not quite right about it. "And you can get lost too, mutt!"

He sniffed the air to make sure no one was around that might wish to harm Steven and stormed back into the club. Mitzeee was looking at him with that same infuriating expression she had worn since he'd given Steven the job, so he growled at her.

"Bored of serving already?"

"No," she said, maddeningly unaffected by his quite exceptionally developed menace, "but there's been some fun things to watch in here recently."

"Glad I'm keeping you entertained, now why don't you go keep an eye on our newest member off staff? It'll be very annoying trying to explain to his wife if he gets eaten."

"Usually you've got enough eyes on him for all of us," Mitzeee teased; but accepted the instruction, so Brendan made his way round the bar and helped himself to some whiskey. He'd barely had a moment's quiet before an annoying presence gave him something else to glare at.

"What do you want, Macca?" he growled.

The rodent faced man was standing to the side of the bar, looking scared to talk to him and scared not to. "You," he said, quietly.

Brendan rolled his eyes, "I thought I made you forget or something," he mumbled, half to himself. 'Can't anyone just do as they're told any more?' he briefly wondered if Steven's resilient nature was catching.

"Not even you can make someone forget the love of their lives!" Macca cried overly dramatically, making Brendan groan with annoyance.

"I thought I could but I seem to be having an off week."

"Brendan, didn't you hear me? I said I…"

"I'm not interested Macca!" Brendan snapped, "Go home, get a life and just leave me alone!"

"But…" Macca protested, his stammering sounding nowhere near as adorable as Steven's.

"Goodbye, Macca!" Brendan repeated and stormed back up to the walkway to stew. Bloody Macca, how had he broken Brendan's instructions? He must have bumped into another vampire or something. Steven though, seemed uncontrollable. That was annoying. Brendan was going to have to tell him the truth or something; then Steven would be all sulky and even less likely to sleep with him. Even though Steven clearly really, really wanted to sleep with Brendan! Stupid boy.

He heard the police a few minutes later. He hoped Mitzeee had the good sense to start work on that for him.

She had that. A small group of police officers (both male and female) were gathered around her, hanging on her every word and staring at her with happy vacant smiles on their faces. Brendan nodded his approval at her and went in search of Steven.

He found the boy sat on a doorstep a few metres from the club. He was hugging his knees and looking vulnerable. Brendan didn't do vulnerable. It made him feel awkward and embarrassed, he left vulnerable for someone else to deal with.

He sat down next to Steven. He gave up on his own sanity and said "You alright?"

"Yeah, course," said Steven. Brendan smiled. He might have done that once upon a time, pretended to be fine when he was anything but.

"Course," he said, putting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I mean," said Steven, "I'm a bit… you know…"

"Yeah," said Brendan. He wasn't sure what Steven had been going to say, but he was wondering why he hadn't fetched Cheryl to deal with this.

"I mean, who would do something like that?" said Steven.

Brendan grimaced, and tried not to say 'me'. He knew the corpse had been drained of all of its blood, even if Steven didn't.

"I mean, I keep telling my kids there's no such thing as monsters," Steven continued, "and it's not true is it? There are monsters; they're everywhere!"

Brendan nodded. There were monsters. Brendan should know. He was one.

"Yeah, but that's what you're for, isn't it?" he mumbled, "to protect them from the monsters."

Steven frowned, and bit his lip.

"What, you don't agree?" said Brendan.

"Don't know," said Steven.

"Tell me about them," Brendan said, before his brain could point out how little he actually wanted to know about Steven's children. Children were the ultimate cock block. To all but the worst of monsters.

"Ah, they're great!" said Steven, without hesitation, "Leah's dead clever right, really imaginative! And Lucas, he's only little right, but he's always listening right and learning! They're my world, them two! I'd do anything for me kids, me!"

Far from finding Steven's descriptions distasteful as he had expected, Brendan found himself almost smiling. "They're lucky to have you," he said, completely honestly.

Steven looked flushed, "Naah," he said, "what, some waste of space on minimum wage for a Dad? Nah, they deserve better."

Brendan looked at him sharply. That couldn't be how he saw himself could it? "You think that matters to them?" he said, "Was it money you wished for as a kid?"

"No," said Steven, quickly enough to be sure the answer was honest.

"No," Brendan echoed, "me neither."

They looked at each other, and understanding seemed to flow between them. Steven may be hundreds of years younger than Brendan, but some things never changed, and they both knew the other was the same. Or had been before Brendan became a monster.

"Oi, Brendan!" snapped Mitzeee, "I've been calling you!"

Brendan shrugged, "Didn't hear," he mumbled.

Mitzeee raised an eyebrow, "How could you not hear that?"

Brendan narrowed his eyes at her and Steven jumped to his defence.

"Well, I didn't hear you either."

Mitzeee smiled at him, "Aw, bless you, you sweetheart," she said, but added no further comment, "they should probably talk to you, or they'll only think to do it later." She nodded towards the still vacantly smiling police officers who were hovering nearby.

"Yeah," said Steven, "I did find it after all."

Brendan put his hand on Steven's shoulder again. Steven was unlikely to react well to realising the entire police response to his finding were under Mitzeee's mind control. "It's alright," he offered, trying to sound kind rather than controlling, "you didn't see anything I didn't see. You get home to them kids of yours. I'll make sure they know everything they need to know."

Steven looked tempted, "No, I should stay. The kids are in bed anyway."

"It's fine, Steven," said Brendan, "I can deal with it."

A slight sliver of suspicion crossed Steven's face. Mitzeee must have spotted it too.

"Ah, go home Ste," she said, "He doesn't pay you enough to deal with stuff like this. It's his problem now."

Steven still looked uncomfortable, but nodded. "Right then," he mumbled, "night."

"Night!" said Mitzeee with a glowing smile. Brendan only nodded. He felt kind of odd watching Steven starting to leave.

"Aw, bless," Mitzeee whispered as Brendan's eyes refused to quit the perfect form as it walked off, "gonna miss him, are you?"

Brendan didn't bother looking at her as he sneered; "If you'd miss this job, Mitzeee, then you should watch what you say."

In the corner of his eye he saw her grin widen, "I'll take that as a yes, then, shall I?" she chimed, happily before wandering off towards the club. Brendan gave her a glare before turning his attention to the wet policeman looking at him expectantly. He sighed. This was going to be tedious.

Ste felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he walked home. Tonight he'd discovered a body, another one! How was he supposed to defend his kids and Amy when whatever monster was prowling the streets of Hollyoaks was so close to his own doorstep? He'd never felt so afraid in his entire life as when he'd seen that misshaped dead arm, but Brendan had made him feel safe again. Brendan was amazing, he'd even let him go home early to be with his kids. It was like the man proper understood him.

As Ste walked down the familiar road to his home, something made him stop dead. It was if something had whizzed past him at speed. Ste suddenly was aware that he wasn't alone, there was something here with him. He turned and noticed nothing, but that didn't necessarily mean he was alone. His heart rate began to increase and Ste could feel something flooding through every part of his body: fear.

"Excuse me." said a voice.

Ste nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice from behind him. He turned slowly, knowing there hadn't been anyone there before. Stood in front of him was a short man, with a slightly deranged look in his eyes.

"Are you Ste Hay?" he asked calmly. It was like he was trying to absorb every part of Ste with his eyes.

"Depends who's asking." said Ste bravely, not happy to be stopped by this toad-like little man. Didn't he realise there was a murderer on the loose?

"So you are Ste Hay then?" asked the man again. "My name is Macca, I'm Brendan's boyfriend."

Ste swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. The last thing he needed was some jealous boyfriend going after him when he hadn't done anything wrong. "And?" asked Ste, pretending the information didn't bother him at all.

"I'm here to warn you Ste. You need to listen to me." Macca launched himself forward, grabbing both of Ste's arms with his hands. His finger nails were almost piercing the skin. "You need to quit DOA, you need to stay away from Brendan Brady."

"You what?" asked Ste. This man clearly had a screw loose! It seemed Ste was fast becoming a nutter magnet. First the staff of DOA, then Simon Walker and now this Macca man; couldn't a guy just walk home in peace for once? Ste tugged his arms from Macca's grip.

Macca was violently shaking, getting more and more worked up with every word. "Please, you have to listen to me. He's dangerous, you don't know what he's really like. I used to be like you, strong and healthy. Brendan drains that all from you, he destroys everything he touches and I don't want the same to happen to you."

Ste felt a fresh wave of anger, he would never become like this Macca. "I don't know who you are and I don't really care. I've had a long night and I'm going home to my kids." he strolled straight past Macca, not looking back even for a minute. Ste was sick of people telling him what to do and how to live his life.

"Please Ste." Macca desperately pleaded.

Ste carried on walking, nothing in the world was going to make him turn back and talk to that man, so he shoved headphones into his ears and listened to Chery Cole. This meant that Ste didn't see a shadow creep up behind Macca, nor did he hear the man's muffled scream as he was violently dragged away into the night.