"Hey, mom, is this really the freak capital of the world?" Sam asked, just as Michael's eyes landed on the billboard they were leaving behind. It was scrawled in graffiti, with some other word crossed out. Maybe they'd pull over once they got closer to town and he could pull out his bike for some fresh air. This non-stop car ride straight from Phoenix to Santa Carla was driving them all crazy.

"I don't know Sam, it was always nice when I was growing up here," Lucy replied, distracted by her radio station flipping. Every once in awhile her eyes would light up when she found something she liked. Michael couldn't blame her. Over ten hours with a broken tape deck was pretty rough.

"Are we there yet?" Sam asked after a moment of silence. Sam was getting on Michael's nerves to put it mildly and this was close to being the final straw. First chance they got, it was wet willy city.

"Not yet," Lucy told him patiently. Her ability to remain calm in the face of Sam's constant harassment was the same strength that motivated them to finally leave Phoenix in the first place. Michael kinda hoped she'd stuff a sock in his mouth. Just for a healthy alf hour. Or a tiny bit longer.

"Just read some comics," Michael advised, shifting his legs to try to relieve his muscles. Maybe he'd be lucky and Santa Carla had a sports team or something he could check out, or he'd find a girlfriend before the summer was over. He didn't look forward to that conversation with his mom tonight about dropping out of school. There was no way she'd be able to support all three of them on her own.

Sam glared at him, "you can't tell me what to do," he looked at Lucy, "moooom, tell him to be nice to me."

She sighed heavily, this was a common enough occurrence after all, "Sam, leave your brother alone." It also happened to be one of the few times it backfired on his little brother.

"So is grandpa's house just as bad as dad said?" Michael asked, looking at his mom, "house filled with all those freaky rodents and dead animals he brings when he visits?"

She was quiet for a moment before answering, "he enjoys doing taxidermy and his home reflects that." So, that was a yes.

Sam groaned, "mom, can't we just stay in a motel? Grandpa's weird."

"Sure," Michael teased, "if we sell your comics."

Sam's eyes went wide, "don't even think about it asshole!"

"Sam! Language!" Lucy snapped, "I don't want to hear another word out of you until we get there or you're grounded."

Michael stifled a laugh, reaching forward from the backseat to ruffle his little brother's hair, just narrowly dodging Sam's attempts to hit him in the process. Nanook perked up beside him and tried to climb over Michael's shoulder to join in on the fun.

"Michael!" Lucy chided, "put your seatbelt on. Honestly, sometimes you three are just too much."

Michael managed to pull Nanook back before he managed to climb into the front seat, "are you going to crash?" He asked, looking at her in the rearview mirror, "no? Then I'm perfectly safe."

"Alright," Lucy replied, "you asked for it." She leaned forward to fiddle with the radio knob, cranking up the Young Rascals loud enough to shatter windows.

Sam and Michael groaned in unison, covering their ears, just as Lucy began to sing along.

David stepped down hard on the wrist of the latest interloper into their territory. Ever since Max had been killed twenty years ago by an encroaching pack, David had become the leader of the area. He and the boys destroyed the rival pack and made their presence felt. They had also cut back on hunting in their territory, preferring to travel when possible and keeping others out so pickings weren't as slim in the off season. No longer was Santa Carla the murder capital thanks to David and his pack.

"I thought we warned you before to keep out." David growled, grinding his foot into the vampire's wrist. Just enough pressure to make tendons snap like twigs, eliciting a pained howl from his prize catch.

He didn't look young, nor was the intruder strong by any definition of the word. Just a middle aged drifter from another time, too cheap to even change his ragged clothes that sported stains from multiple dozens of old meals. "There are more of us," the vampire threatened weakly, still attempting to pull his useless arm from underneath David's boot. Dwayne had already relieved him of the other one, tossing it halfway across the unkempt field they found themselves in tonight. Unholy food for the worms.

"How many more?" David pressed, "and why do you feel it necessary to invade our territory?"

"Plenty," he hissed back, "and there's plenty of blood to go around."

"You know what? I'm thinking we haven't made a proper impression. You still think it's open season here. It's not. This is our territory, our city, and none of you are going to come in and ruin it for us. So, here's what's going to happen. We're going to make an example out of you, send your severed head back as a gift to your sire with a warning that if we see any more of you even close to our city we will kill you and toss your bodies in the ocean." David growled, bending down to lean closer.

The kill was quick. The cleanup was easy. There was a reason Dwayne never bothered to wear a shirt under his jacket. Black hid stains nicely, too. Marko was the only one of them who ever had to carry a spare tank.

"Want me to take it home and meet up later?" Paul asked, tossing their victim's head into the air with a laugh. Marko ran by and caught it, tumbling to the ground like he'd just barely managed to catch a soccer ball hurtling into the goal.

David chuckled softly, "yeah, go deliver our message." He looked at the other three, "the rest of us will head into town."

Maybe they'd celebrate tonight with a couple of tourists. They were fair game. The only locals who ever ended up on their radar were the stupid ones. Dwayne and Marko were the first to their bikes, with Paul shoving the head into a pannier behind him. With a two-fingered salute, he rode out, tossing his head and howling into the night sky.

"Always has to make a stupid exit," Dwayne remarked, watching him leave.

"He wouldn't be Paul if he didn't." David replied, swinging his leg over his bike, "let's go."

"Don't you have something better to do than follow me around all night?" Michael asked, rounding on Sam. His little brother been annoying him since they'd left the concert.

Sam gave him his typical open-mouthed smile, seeming to realize for the first time that they were in the only part of this city with things to actually do, "yeah. Yeah, I think I do!" He slugged Michael in the shoulder, dodging a noogie before slipping through the crowd and hopping off to cause trouble for someone else. Probably.

Michael rolled his eyes, hooking his thumbs into his jean pockets and strolling towards his bike. He could turn in early tonight and see about that beach cleanup job he saw in the papers that morning. Get a couple of extra bucks to tide him over before he found a real job. His eyes lit up when he noticed a pair of girls giggling beside a snow cone stall. Maybe he'd stay up late after all.

The familiar rumble of bikes drew his attention to the edge of the boardwalk. There were three of them, all with bikes that he was immediately jealous of. They all dismounted, practically in unison, before taking in the boardwalk. Pretty young to have rides like that, he thought. None of those guys could be over twenty-three at most. Maybe even younger. Michael's eyes slid over to his own bike that wasn't parked very far from theirs, and he could help the slight pang of jealousy. Maybe they had rich parents.

He crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall of a sunglasses hut as he watched them. Didn't even notice the girls walking away with their snowcones. The guy with the spiky hair and trench coat strode ahead of the other two, while they trailed behind him. There was something about the bikers, maybe just their bikes, that held Michael's attention. He couldn't look away.

The spiky haired blonde looked out over the crowd before locking eyes with Michael. It seemed like everything stopped. As if they were the only ones in the world.

Shit. Michael finally managed to tear his eyes away after a few seemingly endless seconds. That didn't make him look like a fucking weirdo or anything, he thought, uncrossing his arms and heading towards his bike, trying not to make it look too obvious. What the hell was that?

As he climbed onto his bike, he tried to just focus on going home, but he just couldn't help himself. He looked back. The trio stood watching him, seeming to be waiting for something or someone. His thoughts were broken when somehow, Sam found him, looking far too excited.

"Mike! I found a comic shop!"

Michael cringed, looking back at his little brother. He'd come this close to accidentally ditching him. "Yeah? You didn't spend your emergency money, did you?"

He glared at him, "no…"

Michael's eyes settled on a rolled-up comic tucked into his brother's over-sized shirt pocket, "then what's that?"

"They gave it to me, for free."

Unable to resist, Michael snatched the comic out of Sam's pocket, holding it just out of reach as he read the title, "Aliens Everywhere? Really, Sam?"

"What? It was free!"

"I thought you only liked superhero junk. Are you ready to go?" He was doing his best to focus on Sam, but Michael honestly thought for one crazy second he could actually feel them watching him still. He rolled the comic back up and passed it back to Sam, patting the back of his seat. "Come on."

Sam held his comic close, getting on his bike behind him, "wanna come back tomorrow?"

"I'll bring you over in the morning when I pick up that beach gig, but you're on your own if you want to stay later. You'll have to hitch a ride back with mom." He paused, "or grandpa. Maybe he'll even let you ride shotgun if his stuffed badger doesn't get first dibs."

Sam nodded against him back, "alright, let's go home."

He tried to focus on the sound of his bike and the wind, but his mind kept wandering back to the bikers, despite himself. Santa Carla really was full of interesting people.

Marko's eyes danced with silent laughter, "what was that about?" He nudged David's shoulder, "thought you were hungry."

"I am but there's something about that guy." He narrowed his eyes at the bike as the kid drove away.

"We could follow him," Marko suggested, "those two don't look like locals. Nobody'll miss them." His claws were just itching to tear into something fresh and warm.

David narrowed his eyes at him, "no, let them go, I'm wondering if he might be worthy."

Marko's grin widened, and he stopped just short of biting his thumb, "that's always fun." Every once in awhile, they played around with the idea of adding a new member to their pack, but it never really worked out. If they didn't just fall spectacularly off the bridge, their bodies rejected the blood, or they just did something flat out stupid to ruin it. The last one was pretty stupid. Starved to death.

Dwayne nodded towards their bikes, where Paul very swiftly pulled in and parked, "he's here."

"So what's the plan?" Marko looked back at David, "you want us to track the guy down, or…?"

"Let's wait for tomorrow. If he doesn't show up then we'll hunt him down. It will be better if he's drawn to us and we don't pursue him." David looked over at Paul as he approached, "how did it go?"

"I think they got the message," Paul told him, grinning wide, "kinda wish I could've held onto it. Souvenir, y'know?" He clapped Dwayne on the back, laughing.

"You already saved Max's teeth after he was offed, do you really need a full skull?" Marko asked, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, gotta put something in that shitty cabinet we raided from his little barbie dreamhouse, don't we?" Paul asked, "guy's gotta have a hobby."

"It would fit with the seagull bones you hoarded two summers ago." David said thoughtfully, "but, no, we're not saving shit like that. No bones in the hotel. You're lucky I let you keep fangs."

Marko exchanged a look with Dwayne, "we've gotta bring leftovers back for the dog tonight, though, David. Hell hound's probably getting hungrier than us."

David nodded, "Thorn can keep bones, Paul can't." He agreed, "let's hunt, we'll get to play more tomorrow."

Marko could feel the underlying excitement and fed off it, they all did. The possibility of a new pack member was exciting. Through a few errant thoughts, Paul caught on quick enough, and relished in it with them.

"I missed all the fun tonight?" He asked Marko, resorting to the silent communication they all shared in their minds that made the humans around them so uncomfortable whenever one of them would laugh aloud for no apparent reason.

"Saw a guy and he saw us, was drawn. At least that's how it seemed." Marko replied.

Dwayne looked thoughtful, "how about we save the party for later. Just grab a bite outside the city tonight?"

"Sounds like a plan, shall we go harass Luna Bay or did you have somewhere specific in mind?" David asked, looking at his de facto second in command.

"Well—" Dwayne began, before Paul hopped up behind him and clapped him on the shoulders with both hands.

"Strip club!" Paul shouted aloud, drawing no attention whatsoever. The people in this town were freaks.

Marko bit the thumb of his glove, smirking around it, "yeah, let's go get us a stripper."

"6 am?" Sam asked, not for the first time that morning as he dragged himself across the kitchen to grab their box of Wheaties on the counter, "they've got you working at 6 am?! That's not just wrong. It's evil. You're working for monsters, Mike."

Michael rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair at the kitchen table, "just hurry up and fix breakfast, Sam. You want a ride or not? It's a first come, first serve gig."

Sam grumbled, pouring cereal and milk into the bowl. He was proud of himself, he didn't actually spill any this time, "fine."

"Coffee ready yet?" Michael asked, looking back at him, "I need coffee. Don't burn it this time, Sam." Neither Sam, nor Michael were 'morning' people. They'd had legendary scuffles in years past to prove it. Their dad could be even worse. As far as their mom was concerned, she was already sitting out on the front porch enjoying the morning air and leisurely browsing through the paper.

"Didn't mom already make coffee? Get it yourself." He grumbled, taking a bite of his cereal.

"Fine. Good luck walking to the boardwalk today, Sam."

"Wait, what? But Mike! You promised!" He dropped his spoon, sending milk splattering across the table.

Michael tapped the table impatiently, "coffee. Now. You've got three minutes to finish eating." His dastardly plan to blackmail Sam for a morning brew was finally revealed. The jerk.

A loud hacking and coughing sound followed by several grunts heiled the arrival of their grandfather in the kitchen, tiredly walking in with his plaid bathrobe bundled tightly around him and a pair of sunglasses secured over his eyes, "you boys already up? Good. Got a lotta chores you can help me with around the house."

"Got a job today, gramps," Michael held up his hands, "sorry."

Sam looked between them for a moment before scampering to pour Michael's coffee while trying to shovel wheaties into his mouth at the same time. "Mike's taking me to the boardwalk." He said quickly before he could get roped into something.

"Hmph," grandpa Emerson grunted, pulling open the fridge and reaching for a bottle of root beer, "maybe tomorrow, eh? Show you my baby out in the garage, how's that?" He peered over the top of the door, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam, "ain't another ride like her in the world."

"You have a car? I thought you just had that old jeep." He said, shoving the full mug of coffee at his brother. Michael took it, giving Sam a dirty look as the coffee very nearly sloshed over the rim.

"Sure. Baby blue caddie. You want, we can take a quick ride in her. Just gotta help me with the lawn, couple of things in the house. Shouldn't take long."

Sam looked torn, "tomorrow, tomorrow I'll help with whatever you want." He really wanted to go back to the comic shop today, maybe get one that he would actually like. The aliens one was kind of freaking him out a little. All kinds of stories about strange lights, crop circles, body snatchers-he just knew he was going to have nightmares.

"Well," Michael tossed back his coffee, cringing as he set the mug back on the table when the heat caught up to him, "better get going."

Sam scrambled after him, leaving his half eaten bowl of cereal on the table. He wasn't about to let his brother leave without him.

"When does it open?" Michael asked, "because I'm going to be combing the beach for a couple hours. You can't tag along."

"I'll find something to do if it isn't, just go do your stupid trash job. Maybe I'll hang out on the beach."

"Okay, don't forget sunscreen then. You're like a ghost," Michael told him in that annoying older brother way, "I'm serious," he went on, climbing onto his bike, "you'll cook fast."

Sam got on behind him, "just don't go getting abducted by aliens and we're good."

"I'll keep that in mind," Michael agreed, starting his bike just as Sam grabbed onto his shoulders.

Sam knew better than to bother his brother when he was taking him somewhere. He had a habit when he got annoyed that he would drive like a maniac. Sam was sure that he was going to die young. So he held on, burying his face between his shoulders and not letting go as Michael sped down the street.

By the time they'd reached the boardwalk, it was lighter outside, enough for Sam to at least be a little more confident he wasn't going to be mugged if he took a wrong turn. "You got grandpa's phone number if you need to call anyone?" Michael asked, climbing off of his bike and turning towards a flight of steps that led down to the beach.

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, "yeah, I'll be fine, I'm not a little kid, Mike."

"I just want to make sure you've got a ride home if you need it," Michael told him, glaring back at Sam before turning to walk away, "I'll see you tonight."

Sam stuck his tongue out at his retreating back before walking to the comic shop, hopefully it was open, he didn't want to have to find something to do.

David leaned back against the railing along the beach barrier, eyes skimming over the crowd on the boardwalk. He was waiting, the others having gone off for their own fun. Even though Santa Carla was relatively safe people were still weary of them and knew not to get on their bad side. He was still hoping the young man from the previous night was going to show up but so far he had been disappointed.

A security guard passed by, but not without delivering a very stern look in David's direction, one hand comfortably seated over his belt. Must be new. The vampire gave him a smirk and a little wave, he would have to pay him a visit later, make an impression. If the guy could learn then he could live.

The man let out a huff of air, turning to leave. Even if he could do anything to David, he didn't have a reason to pull anything. Yet. Before he could pursue that line of thought, he saw him, the guy from the night before was leaving a small shop examining the lapel of a leather jacket and adjusting the collar as he crossed the boards. A passing girl caught his eye for a moment, but then he looked up at David. Surprise flitted across his features for an instant. David smiled at him, a real, honest smile, not one of his trademark smirks, no, he didn't want to scare him off after all.

Casually, the young man tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and strolled towards him, lingering beside a jewelry stall feigning interest before moving on. "Hey," he greeted David coolly, "saw your bike over there. Nice ride." Under the scent of sticky cotton candy and sweat that permeated the boards beneath them, he smelled clean. Probably never broke a rule in his life.

"Yours isn't bad either." He replied, pushing up from the railing.

"Gets me from one place to another," the human replied, shrugging and taking the compliment in stride.

"I'm David." He held out his hand.

"Michael. Mike, usually." He took David's offered hand and shook it briefly. One of the many occasions gloves became useful. Beneath the leather his skin was icy cold. Hard to blame it on a hot summer night.

"Nice to meet you, Mike." He tried out the shortened name, immediately deciding he prefered Michael, "you new in town?"

"Yeah. We're staying with my grandpa until we get on our feet. How about you? Just visiting or…?"

He shook his head, "nah, lived here all my life." He replied, "would you like a tour, Michael?" He asked, half smiling at him.

"Sure," Michael met him with his own smile, "got nothing better to do."

David took a chance and slung an arm around his shoulders, guiding him onto the boardwalk, "it will be my pleasure to show you around and you can meet the boys."

"Got a whole gang, huh?" He didn't seem to care about the guiding arm, walking alongside David easily enough. Lucky for him he wasn't going to be dinner.

"Saw you looking at getting your ear pierced, it's a scam, I can do it for you if you want." And thus, the tour began. The walking tour, anyway.

"So, now we've run you through all the basics, you got any questions-Mister Phoenix?" Alan asked, eyeing Sam up and down at the counter.

"Yeah," Sam said, hesitant, "can you ring me up already?" Somehow just hanging out and browsing comics had turned into a serial killing alien autopsy conspiracy, and he'd gotten the deluxe package. Should've just stayed home and done chores for grandpa. God, they even had a newspaper scrapbook.

"This is serious business, aliens are out there, they take people all the time and replace them." Edgar pressed.

"Oh, no, I totally get that. Those pictures you guys have are really cool, but I don't have this issue here, and I'd like to buy it." Sam tapped on the comic he held at the counter. One of many Superman comics he actually had, but this one was in mint condition. He needed it. He'd ransacked his piggy bank for it.

Alan's upper lip quivered in a simile of a tough guy sneer, as he turned to his brother, "I think it's time we tell him about the house."

Edgar nodded in agreement, "there's this house, boarded up, it's full of ash and bones, someone was vaporized in there. No one will buy it, no one will go near it, not after what happened there."

"Owner was a big whig," Alan added, "we're pretty sure he made his money off of back deal trades with the FBI. Bought and sold alien fetuses, then when the parents found out? He was toast."

Sam looked at them skeptically, "yeah, sure," he was a little nervous, at least now he was getting the point, finally, "can I just buy this now, please?"

"Sure," Edgar nodded, slowly reaching for Sam's cash, "but you just remember. Any funny lights in the sky, you call us. You've got our number. Remember that. It could save your life one day. Pray that you never need to call."

"Yeah, sure." He grabbed his comic, not even waiting for the little bit of change he was expecting, and left. Thank god he'd already called his mom on a payphone earlier to pick him up, because Mike wasn't anywhere to be seen. Big jerk probably got lucky. He was gonna be in so much trouble tomorrow.

Michael felt weird. Like all of that anger after their race to the bluff had disappeared altogether, the moment David smirked at him and led the group away from the bluff towards what he could only assume was an old mine shaft. How very wrong he was, he thought, following them inside. At first they were met with darkness, then Dwayne and Marko split off from the group with torches they'd lit outside and tossed them into a couple of oil drums, illuminating a massive room. The first thing Michael noticed was the massive poster of Jim Morrison staring back at him, the lizard king welcoming him to his underground palace. He looked towards the ceiling, and amidst veins of cracked rock, he saw a chandelier sparkling down at them, catching licks of light from the crackling flames in the oil drums.

"Wow," he whispered, following them towards a sitting area in the middle of it all, where a wheelchair, a nice couch, and an old coin fountain awaited them. It was filled to the brim with change and odd metal trinkets. Like a pirate's treasure chest open to the sky.

David settled into the wheelchair, looking rather like a king in his kingdom, "well, what do you think?"

"It's nice," he admitted, "just a little creepy, but nice."

"Welcome to the club, Mikey," Paul taunted, standing atop the couch with one boot on an arm and the other on the back as he lit his joint with a match and tossed it aside.

"Marko, food." David ordered, "it isn't every day we bring someone down here. This place, it used to be one of the most impressive pieces of architecture on the west coast until the earth quake. Now, it's ours, and we've done some work on it, repaired what we can, but it's an ongoing project." He explained.

Michael sat down on the edge of the fountain near David just as Marko hopped out of the lobby with a secretive smile on his face. He ignored it in favor of talking to David, "it's pretty cool. Plan on getting some electric in here, too?" He joked, noticing Paul proffer his joint to David as if he were presenting a gift to a king. The guy had a flair for dramatics.

David chuckled, taking it from him before closing his eyes and taking a drag off it, "haven't planned on it. We do fine with the barrels and candles, it adds a certain ambiance that electricity just can't compete with." He opened his eyes, looking at Michael and holding out the joint.

He thought about it for a moment, noticing that all eyes were on him and relented, taking it. "Thanks," he said, taking a brief pull and quickly passing to Dwayne, who leaned across from the couch to take it.

Marko chose that moment to bound inside, cartons of Chinese takeout in hand, "who wants rice?"

David leaned back in his seat, eyes locked on Michael. It was almost time. Michael had been fed and was relaxing along the edge of the fountain, taking a drag of Paul's joint. Ever since Max had been disposed of they had gone away from the gaudy bottle that he had used to hold his blood. David had a much subtler way to do it now, a flask he kept hidden in his jacket. Sure, the bottle had been good for a kind of ritualistic flair but it drew too much attention. A flask, now, no one looked twice at that and was much more willing to drink from it. Slowly, he pulled it out as Michael turned to look at him, holding out the joint in offering.

"Want a drink, Michael?" He asked softly, holding out the flask as he took the joint from between his fingers.

The others exchanged dark looks and sharp grins, remaining silent as they leaned in to watch. Michael eyed the flask for a second or two before finally leaning forward to take it. "What is it?" He asked, sniffing it curiously.

"Something special, I created the mixture myself. I think you'll like it."

Michael's eyes darted around the group, a little doubtful. His curiosity and desire to fit in got the better of him, though, and he took a good long swig. Once past his lips, the first taste of the blood would hit him immediately.

David smirked, clapping slowly, "bravo, Michael." The instant the blood began its work a connection flared to life between them. He could feel Michael in his mind, just like the boys. He wasn't pack yet, not until he made his first kill, but he was one of them nonetheless.

The rest of them cheered with him, welcoming Michael into the fold, even as his eyes were half-lidded, mind becoming clouded by the blood. There was no drug more powerful than fresh, warm blood. Michael blindly held the flask out for David to take, blinking several times to clear his vision.

David pressed it back toward him, "don't you want more?" He asked, voice quiet.

He tried to hide his eagerness, drawing the flask back, "you sure? Don't wanna hog it all." It wasn't a real concern, otherwise Michael wouldn't have taken another drink from the flask so quickly after asking, wiping at his mouth as a drop trickled past his lips. He peered at the rich red liquid for a moment, before ignoring whatever passing concern that popped into his mind and licking it from the back of his hand.

"Alright, let's party!" Paul crowed, shaking his wild mane of hair as he tossed his jacket across the lobby and hopped from the back of the couch to land neatly beside his boombox he'd tucked behind it. Michael didn't seem to notice. His dazed attention was focused on David.

David chuckled softly, "have as much as you want Michael, I can always make more."

"It's great," Michael admitted, "the best." The minute the words were out of his mouth, music tore through the lobby, echoing against the cave walls and stretching into the twisting tunnels beneath and around them, while Dwayne and Marko began to tussle beside the couch.