Teeth

Chapter Two

The smoke rose in a swirling column and bloomed above Spencer's head. Heavy clouds that promised rain blocked the last of the stars, what little could be seen through the haze of the city lights. A red dawn spread up from the horizon tingeing everything it touched in a peach glow.

Spencer sucked in another lungful from his cigarette and flicked the end of the butt, sending the ash into the grass. Holding the sweet smoke behind his lips and drawing it down into his lungs, he relished the feeling before he sent it out in a perfect spiral stream.

"Cutting it fine, aren't you?"

Spencer didn't need to look over his shoulder to place the voice. That voice was as ingrained in his head as his own. He'd been around it for over five years now and he didn't want to think it would ever truly go away. His chuckle sent a cloud of misty breath out into the cool air and he pointed his cigarette at the horizon.

"Closest I get to sunrise," he said.

They stood and watched the slow progression of colour before the sun showed its face. Spencer smoked his cigarette, and August turned to watch him.

"I do not see the point of your little habit, Spencer."

Spencer glanced at the cigarette in his hand.

"It won't kill me."

"The fact it is not lethal is not a reason to continue."

"It's a habit, August, nothing more."

"A habit you could just as easily discard. The nicotine has no hold on you."

Spencer sighed and looked down at his cigarette again. There was something about August's words that drained the enjoyment out of the little stick. He had already brought it half way to his lips but he dropped his hand, tapping his thumb against the side of his thigh. He turned his attention to his companion instead. August's pale hair shone despite the lack of moonlight, and his pale blue eyes glinted like the absent stars.

"You do this every morning," August noted, a small pull at the corner of his lips.

It wasn't a surprise that August had watched him. The older man seemed to know everything that went on. Spencer had never seen him surprised, despite the number of odd tales that passed through their doors.

"I'm sure you have your own little rituals when no one is around."

August looked at him then. Despite his young features, there was something old about August Caine. Spencer had always noticed it and it seemed more pronounced in the pre-dawn, the light drawing his pale age from his skin. Or perhaps it was the job he'd been performing downstairs which made him so much older. Spencer took a drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt out onto the grass, leaving the glowing embers to be devoured by dew.

With the sweet smoke filtering away, Spencer picked up another scent. He looked down at the wooden beams of the balcony. Sure enough, a line of bloody footprints led to their position.

"You saw the new one? That's where you were tonight?"

August followed his gaze and smirked upon the sight of his boot tread against the yellowing wood. It was a cruel smirk of absolute amusement. Spencer had seen it many times, mostly before August killed. Though they all mostly hunted separately to avoid attracting attention, he'd seen August kill more than any of the others. He was the perfect hunter. Skilled, patient, and utterly ruthless.

"Quite petrified," August mused. "Though I remember you experiencing the same horror in the beginning."

"I woke up in an unfamiliar room with my one night stand hanging from the ceiling."