A/N: Since I obviously don't expect you guys to remember what all of the characters look like, I'm going to try my best to put pictures in a lot. Plus, it'll probably help you guys keep track of all the characters.

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The fire crackled subtly against the back wall as an ink pen wrote away on faded paper. Though the pages of Beau's medical journal had become aged, the lessons inside remained timeless. If the day ever came that he died, the man or woman who got their hands on the books in his study would be very lucky. He hated most publications in his field considering they all were ran by and pandered to light creatures. Hence the reason all his intelligence was hid away in an office in an insane asylum.

This late at night, none of his patients could be up. Regardless of that fact, he did not panic or even flinch when the door was opened. He could smell Jasper's venom a mile away. It was potent, unlike any vampire he'd encountered. His work partner wasn't just any old vampire. No vamp lives as long as he has, yet there he stood, flesh and blood.

"I've been thinking, Jasper." Beau removed his reading glasses, carefully folding them to set on top of the dark oak desk.

The warden grasped his cane tighter for support as he lowered himself into the chair beside the fire. He seeped a sigh, "That's never good."

"Hm, please, old friend," He replied, "I've always been interested in studying all religions and all Gods and Goddesses, but Christianity has been one practice that's intrigued me the most. I have never seen a religion, not in LaVey's, that is as arrogant and hypocritical. Lucifer was thrown from the Heavens for defying God and lying to his creations. In the eyes of a Christian, he is pure evil, yet Christians also believe God forgives all. They've done much worse than lie and they get forgiveness?

Their bible is full of horridness, yet so many creatures submit to it. It's not because we live in an evil world, it's not because these people are blind from the bad ways of their religion, but because our world has grown weak. No one is willing to defy Christianity because it's a monster."

"What are you getting at?" He asked.

"My new patient, he's treated as a monster when he isn't one. He's made mistakes, yes, but he's an honest man just trying to provide for his family. They beat him and cast him away because it was easy. It's easy to face a fear we can see, and it's easy to defeat when it's one man. When a force is unseen and it has taken control of millions, influencing them to lie, hate, and kill, that is a true monster that cannot be defeated. And that, it truly terrifies me."

"I never thought of you to be a man who could fear anything. I do not fear religion in itself, but I fear the ignorance it breeds. It creates the broken, but I suppose without lost souls, we would be out of a job."

He sighed, "That is an unfortunate reality. I fear for creatures like Croc, there is no place other than these walls where they are to be accepted."

Jasper twisted his ring around absentmindedly while studying his friend. "Do you believe he needs to remain here permanently?"

"He could manage to live the life he's chosen but it will be one filled with hatred until the day he dies. I'd like to speak with his boyfriend and see if we could arrange a meeting. Maybe I can talk him into taking up residency here. From what Ryan and Marci have told me, the boyfriend isn't the most stable creature himself."

"I don't believe a single person in their family is." Jasper rested his ringed finger against the edge of his lower lip in thought, "I was rather disheartened to hear of Chris' passing. I had a feeling, deep in my bones, but I was hoping I was wrong. Losing a man of his importance will not fair well as time goes on."

"It's been two years since he died. Any damage that could've been done would've been by now." Beau replied, resting back in his seat. He turned to look out the window behind him, "Or, at least I'd like to hope."

"The humans have a policy when someone of importance dies, they are to withhold certain information from the public for a minimum of fifty years. I used to think this practice was ridiculous, but now I see that predators must be given time to die off."

Beau glanced back at him, "What exactly are you worried about?"

Jasper responded with a smile indicating it was time to move on from the subject. Just in case it wasn't clear that he'd like to allude it, he changed the topic of conversation entirely. "When you get a chance, please inform the others I need them to return to the manor tomorrow evening. We have an important guest arriving at dusk."

"Is that so? It seems ever since Mr. Sitkowski arrived, there's been a strong shift in the game." He turned his chair forward again as the warden got up. "I am not sure if that shift has been in my favor, but I suppose you wouldn't tell me, even if I asked."

Jasper leaned forward, setting his hand on the desk for support. The shirt he wore had been torn on the bottom and revealed a good deal of his toned stomach. He had a thin waist with a deep V-line. Something that easily caught Beau's eye many times.

He smirked, revealing his unusual fangs. Most vampires had four fangs, but Jasper had six. In addition to the very long daggers on his bottom and top row, two smaller fangs were on the sides of his top set. His oddities added to his sensual aura.

"As long as you're on my side, the tides are always shifted in your favor." He mused, "There will be some changes around here, but all you have to do is focus on your job," Jasper lightly set his fingertips under Beau's chin, lifting his head, "And only your job, Beau."

"It's not my fault that you smell of sex constantly, but I am not attracted to you. I'm simply affected by the pheromones you put off, as any man or woman would be." H replied.

Jasper slowly moved away, replying, "Control is a beautiful thing. Keep your strength in check, please. You are one of my most important pieces."

"Do not lie to me. I am not one of your chess pieces. I am the one that keeps your set in line and polished." Beau responded.

The warden had reached the door, on his way out for the night. He glanced back over his shoulder and grinned sickly, "All the more reason why you're so important."

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Micah gently intertwined his fingers into the soft black hair of the toy at his knees. He kept his eyes closed, tilting his head back. His bedroom was dark to hide the veil of sin. Candles burned along the dresser and nightstand. The sensual smell of jasmine floated through the air, relaxing his submissive.

Paris was rather shy for a dark creature. Most his life had been spent all alone in the kitchen of his employers. Besides, he was never one to be pursued, let alone by someone like Micah. He was grateful for their relationship even if it wasn't much. He'd do anything to make Micah happy, even if he had to be on his knees until his legs were numb.

"Fuck," He uttered between thick breaths, "You're so good at giving head, Baby."

The smaller smiled, kissing his tip. Paris moaned softly while he swallowed down a massive cock. For someone who barely got any action before, he was pretty damn good at this. He took a break to catch his breath and readjust his hair. His thin body looked perfect in only his small underwear and a shirt that was falling off his shoulder. Micah was always careful with him. It took everything in him not to grab a fist full of Paris' hair and force him down on his dick until he couldn't breath.

Paris continued to suck his favorite piece of candy. He bobbed his head in a perfect rhythm, his spit dripping down his chin and neck. Micah brushed some stray hair out of his cute boy's face. He got a good hand full of his long black hair and held him down to his base. It took him a few seconds before he choked and his dominant lessened his grip.

"Oh, fuck, Baby," He moaned, "Just like that."

His deep voice and grace of an accent was weakening to anyone who heard it. Paris was certainly tired from working all day but he couldn't say no to his favorite person. He continued to choke down his cock until he'd properly milked him. Micah released into the sweet boy's mouth with a deep moan. Paris shuttered from the noise his partner made.

"You look so beautiful." Micah leaned forward and pecked his lips, "Thank you for servicing me, lovely."

Paris wiped the spit off his lips, smiling, "Anything for you. It is getting rather late."

"It is," He delicately placed his hands on Paris' hips as he'd stood up, "I did want to ask you about something. I've noticed Ryan has caught your eye."

"Just... Just a little bit. Only because new people interest me." He shyly murmured.

He looked up at him, revealing his green eyes, "My dear, if you'd like to peruse him, it's fine with me. You and I both know our involvement with each other is purely sexual. If you were to get into a relationship with someone, I could live."

"I don't even know if Ryan's into men. I've seen the way he messes around with Angela. I highly doubt he'd want me. It's nothing that would go anywhere." Paris replied.

Micah guiding the smaller to look back at him, "You never know. My point is, I want you to find someone who can care for you. You've got a good heart and you deserve love."

"Micah, I don't want to talk about this anymore." He painfully confessed.

The dominant placed a small kiss on his sweetheart's forehead, "I'm sorry to upset you. I just don't want to see you hurt, that's all. Please, go get yourself some rest."

Paris foolishly followed orders. All he wanted was to scream at him for his rejection. He wasn't that kind of person though. Instead, he did as he was told and retired to his room. What he left behind was more pain placed on a stacking pile of agony for Micah. The aid had his reasons for not pursing Paris further, but the younger would never be able to understand.

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The gallery, appropriately named Twins Gallery after the children they'd lost, was well past closing time. Ghost had already headed home to prepare dinner for his loving family. He wanted to stay late with his husband, but Ricky urged him to get home. After all, updating the books couldn't take very long, could it?

Unfortunately, he'd greatly underestimated how behind their logs were. Every other shop on this street was closed. His store filled with beautiful art of all medians was the only with a light left on. The door had been locked and the sign switched to closed. With only one light on over his desk, he continued to write away.

Not a noise was made. No mouse, no creak, nothing to alert him of anyone else's presence. You could suppose after some time, you do get used to an old friend with a habit of appearing out of the shadows. Ricky didn't budge at all when he realized he was no longer alone. He finished the line he was writing, then rested his pen in it's inkwell.

"To what do I owe this visit?" He spoke, somewhat tired and bitter in his tone.

"After all I did for you, I'd hope you'd be a little nicer." Deacon responded.

He scoffed, "You've always been a very humble man. Don't start becoming a self proclaimed martyr now."

"I am simply pointing out the fact that you neglected to treat the position you were left and I had to clean up your mess. Bare in mind, my own hands were rather busy as it was."

"I was busy too, trying to keep my family together. Look, I appreciate that you took on Chris' political responsibilities after his passing, but don't act like you filled his spot completely." Ricky said.

Deacon respectfully removed his hood, revealing his tired face. "Ricky, please. I miss Chris just as much as you but I would never attempt to fill his position. Especially when it was not left to me. It was left to you, and you ignored it. Which, for the past two years, I was perfectly okay with."

He crossed his arms as he leaned back in his desk chair, "And now?"

"Now," He sighed, bowing his head, "Now, my hands can no longer bare to hold up my own weight and Chris'. There are some very bad whispers in the wind. I understand you are preoccupied as the matriarch of your family, but I am desperately asking for your help."

Ricky held the most anger of anyone under his roof. He wanted to turn away Deacon, but he was right. He'd done everything to help out their family following the fallout of Chris' death. There's been plenty of times, in fact, that Deacon had pulled them from the flames.

Reluctantly, he asked, "What do you need me to do?"