𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

Max's eyes grew wide. You would have thought David had presented him with a briefcase of gold and not some random seventeen-year-old girl that he found on the street. You considered stepping up to greet him, but the thought vanished almost as quickly as it came to mind.

You didn't have to turn around to know that David had a fresh smirk painted over his face. He used his gloved hand to pet back your hair possessively. "Go pick out a movie, (Y/N)," he said, effectively dismissing you.

He said your name just loud enough that anyone in the store could have heard him. Especially Max, who was still standing right there and blinking down at you with disbelief. Marko dragged you away from the others and you didn't think to stop him. There was bad energy pulsing between Max and David. You would definitely be gossiping about tonight with Mrs. Emerson tomorrow.

Hey Lucy, did you know our boyfriends are fighting? How funny is that?

"C'mon, horror movies this way," Marko snickered, guiding you toward a rack of VHS tapes in the darkest, furthest corner of the store.

You pretended to gag. "Nuh-uh. Dirty Dancing or bust."

It was a full minute or two before Max snapped his gaze away from your retreating figure. David watched him with a disinterested, self-satisfied squint. He, Dwayne, and Paul took up the entire entryway, like bodyguards preventing anyone else from stepping foot into the store.

Although that was basically their sole purpose at that point.

Max leaned over the counter with something resembling a smile and David realized that it was the first time in the last seventeen years that he wasn't sneering at him.

"That's truly her, isn't it?" He asked breathlessly.

Paul scoffed behind him and David chose to ignore it, nodding instead. "She's the real deal."

As if he would deliver anything else. David was always the soldier. Always carrying out demands just as strictly as they were issued.

"God," Max laughed, but there was no humor in it. "She's the spitting image of her mother."

Dwayne and Paul soured at the mention of Maria, but neither of them dared to say anything about it. Thankfully, Max was eager to fill the hollow silence. "How long have you known?"

"Star found her on Friday. We got her to the cave by Saturday," David spoke slowly, peering over the tops of the aisles to make sure Marko was keeping you well distracted.

"And her progress? Has she taken to the transformation?" Max asked with little regard for volume. He was too eager. David debated silencing him.

"Not yet," he admitted begrudgingly. He hated not meeting Max's expectations, even the smallest ones. "We're still working out one of the obstacles."

And the obstacle's name was Michael Emerson.

He was still kicking himself for letting that pathetic worm take the bottle from his hands that night, letting him raise it to his lips and drink. He'd spent years perfecting that shit just for you. Now it was tainted with mortal hands. The same mortal hands that were now conveniently immortal so long as everything went according to the newly revised plan.

"Time is running out," Max cleared his throat, straightening his already rigid posture. He didn't even try to mask his disappointment, not like any of them expected him to. "If she hasn't changed by her eighteenth year, she forfeits all power."

Now David was getting frustrated. "I am aware of what's at stake here, Max," he snarled through gritted teeth.

"Good."