T⃨u⃨r⃨n⃨ O⃨n⃨ T⃨h⃨e⃨ N⃨i⃨g⃨h⃨t⃨ | The Lost Boys

C⃨H⃨A⃨P⃨T⃨E⃨R⃨ S⃨E⃨V⃨E⃨N⃨T⃨E⃨E⃨N⃨

"Get dressed," David interrupted whatever scathing comeback I intended to deliver. He dropped a pile of rumpled clothes in my lap before striding to the door, "Kid's waking up."

Face paling at that new revelation, I jerked out of Dwayne's lap and yanked on the dirty pants David returned to me, "Shit, Laddie!" I froze with my hands on the button my your jeans I traced the floor for your missing piece of clothing, "Have you seen my bra?"

"Nope," Paul offered as he lit up the joint. He'd since leaned against the wall, his legs spread for the whole world to see his morning glory, "Were you wearing one?"

I scowled, "Yes, I was wearing a fucking bra—"

My retort was cut off by the sound of my son yelling, "Mom! Come look! Marko has pigeons!"

"Shit, shit," I threw my shirt over my head, forgoing the pursuit my missing underwear, "God, you guys suck. Next time this happens I'm packing extra."

I didn't linger to catch the way Dwayne's brows

hiked at the easy admittance. Watching as I escaped back into the main part of the cave, he stood. He eyed the lingering wetness on his fingers before wiping the excess off on his pants and turning to Paul, "You heard that?"

"I heard it," Paul confirmed, smirking around the joint between his lips, "Think she meant it?"

"Does she have a choice?" Dwayne drawled in return, accepting the joint when Paul passed it in his direction. His stare crawled over the room, categorizing every place my presence had lingered. He took a slow inhale before trailing his stare to the ceiling, "You know where her bra is, don't you."

"Yeah," Paul nursed the returned joint with a cocksure grin, "Gotta keep a souvenir."

Dwayne snorted. He eyed the ruffled bed sheets again before an odd expression grew over his face. It wasn't anything overt, but there was a lingering edge of concern that dotted the heavy lines of his brow. Catching onto the change in mood, Paul took one last leisurely hit of his joint before twisting his attention toward his coven brother.

The events of the night before remained unanswered and Paul, in his never-ending energy, was eagerly awaiting clarification. It was something he'd never quite grown out of— that need for instant satisfaction. He was working on it, but it was difficult when you had a millennia of time in front of you.

"You good?" Paul questioned, brows lifted high in query, "You and David solve that hold up yesterday?"

The only indication of Dwayne's souring mood was the sharp shake of his head, "No."

"Well, shit," Paul slumped back against the wall. An unexpectedly morose expression crawled over his face, "Boss man said no?"

Dwayne merely nodded in response to the question. He wasn't in the position to elaborate. That responsibility would fall solely on David's shoulders.

"Does that mean," a tense silence followed as Paul finally ventured, "we're gonna listen to him?"

Trailing his gaze back to rumbled bedding, Dwayne shrugged, "Up to David."

Both boys knew that answer wasn't technically correct. David could do as he pleased within the bounds of his orders, but if he were to venture outside of control, it would pose issues for the entire coven. There was no safety from the commands of the sire and they'd already strayed too far from the edge of obedience for comfort.

Dwayne just had to hope that David's ploy would hold.

A/N: really short but expect angst next chapter

Hi Emily