Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. I appreciate all the feedback I'm getting.


Where they stopped only gave a great wave of confusion to Boadicea. He said he was taking her to his, but all she saw were rocks and the great big view of the pacific ocean, a monstrous grave of black water and high waves that snarled as they rose together, as if they were trying to drag her from off the cliff into the icy depth. It was cold too where they were, a soaring gusty wind that blew straight through her, threatening to knock her off her very feet.

Not to mention it was partially dark, all but the bright light that shone on them when the light from the lighthouse moved around. She was thankful for that. Boadicea never did like the dark and though she was with Paul, her fear didn't subside.

It was the sort of place that would have fitted the dead perfect. She thought as she rubbed her shoulders vigorously . A creepy, dark, cold place that one would have thought ghosts would have taken a liking too.

And she realised that she was still sitting on the bike, arms still wrapped tightly around Paul, teeth lightly chattering together. He was still as a statue, not one speck of movement forming. If it hadn't of been for his chest moving up and down, he could have easily looked dead. She was scared. When the sea snarled and roared louder she expected a great black serpent of a monster to come up from the water, sharp teeth, monstrous eyes and horrible, slimy, tentacles ready to drag her down with it. The fog made her on edge too, causing all her hairs to stand on a sharp end. What if a ghost came out from the thick, dense, fog, ready to drag her down into hell? Her imagination was getting the better of her, but she couldn't stop. Of course she never believed in a word she was thinking but the darkness was getting the better of her. It crushed all bravery and strength in those who feared it, leaving them to be meek, defenceless, and small. Boadicea felt just like that.

''Paul, where are we?''

There came no answer until she said it twice more, the last being a rather small, quiet, frightened, plea for him to speak.

''Huh?'' He glanced at her from behind his shoulder then, a coming look on his face that showed he had forgotten that she was even with him. A horrible knot of fear and panic laced in her stomach. All trust had gone. She wanted to go. She didn't want to stay with him any longer. There was something very wrong.

''I said, where are we?'' The blueness of his eyes seemed cold, far away, and she was sure she detected the glimpse of anger burning in them. Boadicea didn't like those eyes and she found herself avoiding them, but he still remained watching her. Where was the smile, the softness, and stupidity of his words? It wasn't like Paul.

''Home''

Arms became untangled from around him and he got off the bike without a syllable said, the clanging of his boots coming into contact with the rocks, grinding them beneath the soles of his feet. She watched the chains on his jeans move from side to side, as if she were fascinated in what she saw. No, her eyes watched, but Boadicea was looking through it all, wary, cold, hungry, and no longer imaging him kissing her tenderly on the throat or seeing them tangled together beneath silk sheets and linen cushions. The lust was no longer present and she regretted leaving the beach to go with him. He didn't even help her off the bike and only a spare of a glance was given when she nearly went tripping over one of the rocks, catching herself just in time before her head nearly came into contact with the ground. No hand was offered to help her up. Paul wasn't even looking at her. There came no laughs and the words, silly Boadicea when she stood. He didn't even offer her his jacket though he knew she was standing behind him, rubbing her arms in attempt to fight the bitter cold.

''I...'' Teeth chattered together so much, words couldn't even be formed.

What was she doing? Did she really know Paul that well? Now she only thought herself to be stupid, because really she knew nothing of him. Why was she brought to a cliff, what was wrong with Paul, and what made her say yes of the offer to go to his. Like. Yes, she liked Paul, but despite her growing infatuation with him, they were still strangers. If he had been his usual self, Boadicea probably wouldn't have even questioned anything. How did she know what he was really planning. Was he going to do something horrible to her with his friends? She wasn't ignorant of his reputation on the boardwalk to those who knew him. Paul was mean and she feared he was going to pull a horrible prank on her.

''Let's rock n roll then, doll.''

That laughter brought her back around, the terrifying image of him pushing her over the cliff disappearing like a puff of smoke as they met eyes. His eyes weren't so dark, so foreign, and full of icy coldness and sharp biting anger, but neither were they soft, or amused, like they so usually were. Blank. It was a blank expression, un- emotional and distant.

Hesitation came forth but Paul was already walking on ahead, and she watched him slip into the fog a second later, his figure no longer to be seen, the sound of his footsteps becoming distant until nothing was heard.

Oh she wanted to go. Home, curled under the sheets and wrapped in a blanket by the warmth. She didn't want to stay where she was but then she didn't want to venture into the fog alone. Now Paul was no longer with her, her ears seemed to be concentrating hard on the noises around her. The sea almost seemed to be laughing at her, ready to take its chance to rise up over the cliff and take her with it. The wind even seemed to have increased in strength, teaming up with the pacific. It wanted to blow her over the cliff.

''Paul?'' The rocks crunched again and Boadicea whirled around, only meeting the dark and the fog that roamed with it. Though she didn't want to be with Paul any longer, being alone was even worse. Trembles came and she realised with high embarrassment that she was sniffling, tears beginning to slowly run down her stone cold cheeks.

''Paul?'' She practically screamed out his name the second time, only to hear her voice shout back to her, repeating the same thing. She expected him to come out from the fog but he never. He had left her all alone, cold, and near enough trapped in fear. Her feet were numb, and with a greater knot of panic, she started to walk further into the mass of the fog, trembling like the last winter leaf clinging onto a tree.

How could he leave her?

''Boadicea''

The wind almost whispered her name in a distant caress, and her feet froze into place.

''Paul?''

''I'm here''

Wiping her eyes, she looked around, being greeted by nothing but the repeat of her name and a lonely emptiness inside. He was playing with her. Lurking in the shadows, probably amused at the fright upon her face.

''Where are you?'' Her eyes were red sore, and a small headache began to come on from the coldness of her ears. It was so cold upon the cliff, not like the warm summers air like it was when they were upon the beach. She thought of ghosts wrapped in chains, coming from the oceans depth. Monsters from horrible tales creeped into her head, and an inkling feeling came that she was being watched. Paul it probably was, still playing a mean, horrible, game, but she pictured it to be ghosts and monsters of the dark, preying on her with watchful eyes.

The sea was no longer laughing or growling and the wind had become nothing but a quiet breeze, though the air became thick with the fog that travelled in, making it near impossible for her to see the rocks beneath her feet.

''Stop playing, Paul.'' A knot of annoyance crawled onto her face, evaporating the fear for a few seconds. ''Come out''

''Who's Paul?''

The voice didn't belong to him and her hands became damp with sweat, skin erupting in goose pimples and the beat of her heart increasing dramatically. She felt sick with fear and she began to cry like a baby again. The voice laughed, and Boadicea found herself shielding her eyes when it moved closer to her. Oh mean, cruel, person she thought with a bitter sadness. And she thought he liked her, but he was just like all the rest.

''Behind you.''

A cold hand came down on her shoulder and screams started up, sobs of Paul spilling from her lips seconds later. It was a ghost. There was a ghost on the cliff with her. She knew the hand didn't belong to Paul, she could tell. It was going to take her to the bottom of the ocean, wrap her in chains and tie her down with it. She didn't want to die.

It didn't stay long on her shoulder and still making a horrible scream, she whirled around, finding nothing to be in front of her, but the fog and the darkness wrapping around her like a cloak.

Flapping of wings started, like a thousand birds flocking together, and Boadicea's watery eyes moved upwards, only seeing the black sky and the little red and yellow lights moving across it. There wasn't even time for her to do anything else because before she knew it she was falling down to the ground, all the weight from her body going. She felt like a big flop of jelly, weak, paralysed, and immobile.

But she still wanted Paul. Home. She wanted to go home too. The tears fell like an endless river down her face, sobs and whimpers still continuing. It had all been going good, right until they came onto the cliff.

''Boadicea.'' A hand wrapped around the top of her arm from out of nowhere, hoisting her roughly up from the ground. Blue eyes met brown and Boadicea moved away from Paul.

''What's wrong?'' His eyes took in her cut and bloodied feet, causing a hunger to form, before seeing the dampness upon her cheeks and the redness of her eyes. Her whole body quivered from the cold, lips trembling from the small cries that continued.

''You left me, Paul. You left me.''

''Look I-''

He didn't even finish his words as he was suddenly given a sharp right hook, the sound of the punch echoing all around them. If he didn't heal, he sure would have had a nice big bruise. For someone who was so small, Boadicea delivered one hell of a hit he had to admit. He cursed Marko and his twisted games. The little midget hadn't fucked off like Paul had told him to when they arrived. He wanted to stick around and see her fully up front in the flesh.

It had been a scuffle between them then, and though Boadicea had obviously been frightened being left alone in the dark, Paul would have rather received a good beating off her for him leaving her there, or letting her go with him and risking the chance of her getting hurt from one of them. That and he had no plans on letting her see what he really was.

''You horrible, selfish, heartless bastard.''

''Babe, let me explain, please.''

''No, you left me here, Paul. I bet you found it funny scaring me like that.''

He couldn't exactly tell her it was Marko, so he fully took the blame.

''I was just having some fun. Forgive me?''

''I want to go home.''

Paul pulled a face.

''You don't even want me here. I saw what you were like when you got off the bike. Your face said it all.''

''That wasn't because of you, babe. Don't go. Stay with me for a bit.''

''I'm cold and hungry. I've had enough.''

''Right.'' With a sigh he picked her up, ignoring her protests and offensive words.

''I love it when you talk dirty.''

Boadicea wasn't taking the joke. She only hit him hard, demanding him to let her go. Paul pretended not to hear, and instead he began to sing, a smile curving as more foul language came from her lips. She wasn't as high mannered as she liked to come across and though her innocence had grown on him, for it was something he wanted to consume from her, he always did like winding her up till she snapped.

''I really do hate you sometimes.''

A laugh rumbled in his chest. ''I know but I wager your like is greater than your hate for me, doll face, so I'm cool with that.''

Boadicea screamed in frustration. She really did hate him sometimes. It was okay for him as he stood back and laughed as she was frightened, and though he gave an apology in his own way, she knew he wasn't half as sorry and that he found it all amusing. Yes, he was charming, sweet, and funny, but Paul was mean. She doubted she'd get used to it, especially when his mean side was directed towards her.

''You warmer now, Boadicea?''

Her shaking had stopped, but her feet were stinging, not to mention stone cold. ''Er, where are we going?'' She watched his feet move down the rusty metal stairs, and she bit her lip with an uneasy discomfort when it shook. It wasn't safe she could tell as she saw the rusting of it all.

''I told you, home.

''Home?'' She repeated with a puzzled frown.

''Yeah, down there see.''

Her eyes followed to where he was looking and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. A small crack in the cliff wall appeared, dark, small, and surrounded by nothing but jagged rocks, a great net of moss and debrew hanging from the top of the entrance.

''You live in there?'' The tone of shock rang out fresh and sharp.

When the nod came from Paul as a confirmation, Boadicea shook her head.

She thought he was joking, right until they slipped inside, being greeted by nothing but the blackness, coldness, and the howling of the wind. Gently setting her down, Paul moved towards the tin barrels, beginning to set each one, within, alight. Boadicea came into view after the second was lit, hands rubbing up arms, frame shaking violently. But she wasn't looking at him, like he with her.

Her eyes moved around the spacious room, and wonder and awe began to fill them with each item and bits of junk she looked at. Surf boards were all lined up together in one corner, graffiti was spilled all around on bits of cardboard and pieces of metal, shiny objects like trinkets and ornaments were on old broken cabinets, doors hanging on hinges that showed even more useless junk inside. Shells, starfish and bits of feathers hung from pieces of strings on the ceiling of an old master bed that was situated in the corner of the room, twinkling and swirling from the breeze that hit them, giving a clinking lullaby sound. Candle sticks were worn down, hard red wax smeared on old grimy plates they were placed on. And when she thought she couldn't take in more, something caught her attention. Dark eyes stared at her from across the room, unmoving and frozen. A large poster, of none other than Jim Morrison, stared at her, and she waited for him to wink or say something.

But he remained watching. She took her eyes off him, looking at even more things. It was surreal but amazing, even more wondrous when she saw a fountain in the middle of the lobby, filled with brass candle holders, goblets, bowls, and other things she wasn't familiar with.

''You live here?'' She finally looked at Paul who was perched on the edge of an old moth eaten tattered couch, leisurely rolling himself a joint. She watched as his bony, slim, fingers levelled out the tobacco and leaves within the paper, high concentration on his face. She really did hate drugs but she knew she had nothing to say to it. It was his home after all.

''Yeah, pretty cool.'' He looked at her and beckoned her over with a nod of the head. '' You look cold. Stand by the fire and warm your hands.''

''So, how many of you live here then?'' It was total bliss when she stood by the barrel, feeling the heat hit her like a fan on full speed.

''Four of us.'' Seeing she was more comfortable standing, Paul took it as the chance to hog all the couch, stretching himself along it, feet dangling over the side. Taking more than a toke on the joint, he lent his head backwards on the arm rest then, one arm coming behind his neck. He just watched her then. It was weird shit for him to take a girl back to the cave and not plan to eat her by the end of the night. In fact she was only the second girl to come back with him to the cave for not the intentions of feeding upon her.

He shook his head a little.

''So how long you in Santa Carla for then?''

Boadicea straightened up and turned to look at him. ''A week or two.''

''Damn, that's pretty shit. You should stay longer. We haven't even had any fun yet.'' A cheeky wink was given.

He got his typical eye roll. He didn't actually want her to go. He thought he would have had more time with her, that she would have stayed longer.

''I have a job back in England waiting for me, a home and my two darling pets that probably are missing me like crazy.''

''Pfff, they're animals, doll. They're probably having a blast without you. Shit, why you caring about two measly animals for.''

''I think Pumpkin would have clawed your eyes out if she were here.''

''Ah, not a fur ball lover are you? Flea bags. Should hang all cats by their tails on a fence, the balls with the males. Furry, whiny, things.''

Boadicea stared at him for a second before lifting up her middle finger, causing Paul to choke on the smoke he had just inhaled. She clamped her lips then, suppressing a giggle herself.

He shook his head and then met her eyes. Her heart thundered through her chest and though she had the desire to look away from him she couldn't. She wanted him all over again. If not for nerves she would have probably already pounced on him like she so wanted to do. Well, that was the reason she said yes of the offer to going to his. After all, no guy takes a woman back so late into the night just for tea and biscuits, did they? She mused to herself. She knew that at least.

''Right.'' Paul jumped up from the couch, snapping her thoughts to an end. ''Maybe I should take you back now?'' He seemed serious and Boadicea buried the disappointment. Her cheeks flamed in silent embarrassment at what she presumed was going to happen, which didn't go undetected.

''Unless you want to stay longer?''

The excitement came back, a dizzying feeling and a warm butter sensation filtering throughout her body. ''Just to talk and...hang out and stuff.''

''And stuff'' Paul mused. It became silent for a second and he filled the space between them then, hands gently grabbing her face. She smelt the drugs on him and the brine of the pacific, all mixed into one sickly smell. ''Just stuff''

Lips came down on hers, parting them for access to play tongues. Her taste drove him wild and his hand moved, running its way down her back, all the way to the hem of her skirt before he grouped her ass, crushing her closer to him. The other hand knotted itself into her hair, letting the softness run between his fingers.

How they ended up on the bed she didn't know, only she was now pushed firmly down onto the mattress, him pressed up on top of her, fingers gently sliding up underneath her blouse, running across her smooth skin. Nerves pricked within, flutters came into her stomach, that of butterflies, and she became strongly aroused. In a second he had her sitting up, rushing to rip the blouse off her and see the nakedness of her breasts. They became as hard as the rocks outside once exposed and he greedily claimed them, latching onto one of the nipples, which got a surprised gasp before she yanked at his hair, pulling him closer in. What the hell he was doing to her she had no idea, only she wanted more, more of the kisses, and the sucking and the nibbling. She liked where his hands went, she liked how his fingers teased her skin in ghostly caresses, and she enjoyed the meeting of lips, of tongue and bruises.

There was nothing holding her back only worry one of his friends would return to the cave, but Paul didn't seem to be giving a shit so she was sure they were going to be alone for quite awhile. There wasn't going to be any talking either so it seemed.

Not that she cared.

She watched in silence as he removed his jacket, and then top, throwing it anywhere on the floor, exposing perfect marble, smooth, skin. Well, all but the piercing in one of his nipples which really did cause a raised eyebrow. Paul just merely grinned, and biting her lip in an awkward and nervous way she traced her fingers along his chest, before moving them downwards, not stopping till she went right past his navel. They met eyes then and not being able to control the shaking of her fingers she got rid of the belt, then proceeded to remove his jeans, wanting, wanting, wanting.

A second later clothes were flying in all directions, both in a mad rush to remove each single item they wore. She was pushed back down onto the bed then, lips meeting in a fiery, strong, kiss, skin upon skin coming into contact.

After that it was just pure, selfish, greedy, pleasure.


Max never had children in his human life, though he always remembered he wanted a girl and a boy, the male to come first, but for some reason it never did happen. He had been a respected, wealthy, man, very well liked amongst people, and married to a pretty land owners daughter, not to mention owning a big house with lots of acres of land. In fact they were married for quite a long time, until she died tragically in child birth, along with what would have been his first child, a daughter of that. After that, Max had kept himself to himself, shutting himself away from the world.

He was twenty seven then, she had been twenty five. It wasn't good to not have a wife at that age, but even after years of her death, Max didn't find anyone else, not for some time. He didn't want anyone else. Half of him had died with her. It would have been perfect, the perfect family that he had always envisioned. They would have welcomed the birth of their child and then tried for another one again not so far down the line. Two children was enough, but Max wouldn't have really minded more. When it had come to Stephanie he would have done anything for her.

She had always been so weak and frail though, but Max hadn't thought anything of it when finding out she was with child. He only pictured the ''after''.

Now he had five children, four of those that still resided with him. Though he never admitted it, David was his favourite, David the lost cause, David the lost boy. When Max had first encountered him, that was who David had been. Just a homeless kid, stealing to survive, fighting to earn money, mugging to sell the items he theft. Max had seen many of those, but David had caught his eye in a completely different way upon seeing him. Max didn't approve of killing children unless it strictly had to be done, though there had been times he had come across others like David, mel nourished from starvation, sick from the cold, hurt from the fights and the danger they put themselves into. It was a simple matter of survival for them. David, though, he took in, fed him, clothed him, and then gave him money when he had put him back on the street. At that time it was just him helping out another kid, like he had done so many other times, but their meetings became more frequent. It was only a few weeks later from their first even encounter that David became a vampire, and from that day right up until the present, he had remained loyal and faithful to Max, protecting him and obeying him at all costs.

Ran sacking the video store, feeding on his customers or even employers wasn't counted as being disobeying in David's eyes. Everything else he was obedient to. And like Max, David was extremely protective of his family, especially that of their master.

Max took care of his children, was well liked upon the boardwalk, but inside, he was just as dark and dank as his children, if not even more. The devil reincarnated was what Max was. David had thought it many times. If Max wasn't so dangerous and sharp, David would have probably tried to be up level with his father, being in charge beside instead of being a sort of dog that looked up at it's master waiting for food.

Sure Max wasn't the perfect father, but he did the best with what he had.


''Should he be told now?''

Dwayne kicked his foot against the beam with an unreadable expression as his eyes grazed over the flock of people in the distance. He never did say much but his opinion was the one that mattered most to David. His was the one that David always listened to the most. Perhaps that was why he was always so quiet. He was a deeper thinker instead. He watched instead of spoke, observed more than the rest did. Dwayne had a sharp eye for small details and problems in the cracks. Unlike the rest, he caught onto more than anyone else.

His eyes drew away from olive skin and green eyes when a sickening crunch came from behind him. He drowned out the laughs from the pretty girl he had been observing whilst David fed, eyes still blank and expressionless.

The body was dropped to the floor carelessly, and David drew out his packet of marlboros, like he always did after a feed. The flame from the match fed the end of the cigarette, creating it to become a deep red, orangy, glow. Smoke clouded around the two like a dark veil and leisurely stepping over the body of the dead guy, he moved towards Dwayne with a patient and almost blank gaze as himself. Nothing was said when David gave him a cigarette. Dwayne didn't really smoke much but the occasional smoke was had, now being one of the times.

''Paul is slow, but let's not insult his stupidity that much. We both know he is aware of the situation and knows what the outcome of it all will be.''

''And the girl?'' Dwayne's head turned a millimetre towards where David stood, ever so calm. Their eyes met for a second, and both seemed to be having a silent battle.

''The girl is of no importance.'' He said at last, looking away to where Dwayne had been staring not minutes before. ''We have no fear of that at this present time. Let's not worry ourselves about that.''

''But the girl David'' Dwayne repeated more firmly, dark eyes changing in emotion for just a second. ''Ignorance is bliss. But you know the outcome of that too. Of what's going on. Let us not be fools and pretend it will sort itself out. We should kill her.''

''Dwayne, old friend. Don't think I am ignoring what is happening, or that I am brushing away your thoughts on the matter. You are aware and know that I value yours the most but at this time, I have more to be concerned about that some girl Paul is hard for.''

''I believe it's more than...a girl Paul is hard for. No good will come from this.''

David said nothing.

''We should get her out of the picture and sort out this mess before it gets even worse. Paul is a target right now. Why he alone I don't know but I don't like this, David. That girl will bring trouble down on us, just like before.

Nothing was said again but David's expression changed, an almost bitter grimace.

''Paul wouldn't understand''

''I think he can get over it. The protection of us is more important than a girl Paul is going weak for. He would understand-''

''In the long run.'' David snapped, getting just a fraction of a dark look from Dwayne. ''I am not having him fucking moping around for years after.''

''So what do you propose we do? Leave them alone, see what happens down the line? No good will come from this.'' He repeated again. ''We should kill her. Either way, it's going to hit rock bottom. Paul isn't ignorant of what's happening but he's pushing it all aside.''

''Leave Paul to me.''

And before Dwayne could get another word in, David was gone.

Another vicious kick was given at the beam. His eyes dark eyes glowed just for a second.

David said nothing about having the girl left alone at the end of the disagreement.