Fragile Heart (Niam)

Chapter Eleven: Recovery

I added a little or not so little treat in this one. Enjoy!

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We suddenly show up in front of the rusted door of our warehouse after the sound of the universe's fabric repairing itself echoes through the storage units. Louis, Harry and I stumble through the door, dragging our feet with the exhaustion from the series of the night's events. Somehow my feet manage to take me all the way to the couch. I feel the dip of a couch and the smell of burnt cotton and polyester singes my nostrils. Looking to my right, I see the werewolf pull out his hunting knife. A faint noise of a metallic thud causes both me and Harry to face the small commotion. Following the sound, we see Louis walking away from a rack and towards us, the sword - his sword - reflecting the moonlight shining from the cracked window panes.

Louis plops himself down to my left and lets out a dramatic huff. I look to my left and I can see the dark colored bruises starting to form underneath the vampire's closed eyes. I turn my head to the right and I can see the same process happening on Harry's tired expression. Shifting my gaze upwards, my eyes look up at the industrial lightbulbs with my mind immediately wandering back to the sword hanging on the wall - the damn sword that killed Sophia. An exasperated sigh leaves my lip. He's supposed to be dead. I shake my head. There can be no possible way that my third brother is alive. Harry, Louis and I saw the result from that mission.

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Four boys jump from roof to roof. The thirteen year-old demon and fifteen-year old vampire take the lead while the twelve year-old werewolf and thirteen year-old shapeshifter hop behind with elegance and grace. They all stop when they reach the roof in which they can see their target. A man with short brunette hair in a large grey coat walks down the bustling street, heading for a large building - a bank - across the street.

"That's him. That's Mr. Devine," the werewolf says out loud. The other boys look at him while the curly-haired boy sniffs the air. Harry inhales deeply and stares down at the target with his emerald eyes. "Human, mid-thirties, father." He sniffs again, but this time his eyes widen. "And there's a bomb attached to him."

The three boys flinch, eyes wide. "Well then, what the hell are we waiting for?" the demon inquires. "Let's go in and make sure he doesn't blow up the joint."

"We wait," the vampire responds without missing a heartbeat. The demon almost snaps his neck whipping his black-eyed glare at the feathery-haired brunette.

"As far as I'm concerned, I'm the one who calls the shots." Louis glares back, red dots dancing across his stormy irises.

"Well, this is still a damn democracy and right now the majority thinks we should stand down temporarily," Louis responds back with bite. Before the demon can protest, Harry nods his head. The demon internally groans at the werewolf's support for the vampire.

"Louis is right. Right now, if the four of us just barge into the bank the guy would immediately start to panic and he'll try to detonate. Judging by the way his shoulders are hunched and gaze is downward, he'll take off his coat and make demands. Of course, the people will listen because he has a bomb, but they'll hesitate the minute they hear what vault he wants to steal from. So if we barge in now he'll detonate and while the task will be finished the information is safe, all those civilians get hurt in the process." The demon grimaces while the vampire and werewolf sigh out in relief. Louis's right. He has a majority.

The demon turns to look at the side of the shapeshifter's head. "You know screw you and your intelligence." The tan-skinned boy smirks and meets Liam's gaze.

"But you seem to have it all figured out. What should we do, Zayn?" The shapeshifter smiles.

"Like Louis said, we wait."