Constantine was mildly annoyed, but incredibly bored.
It was one of those rare times where he regretted sparing someone's life, and it is rare because he rarely spares anyone's life. The decision was made on a whim, and he foolishly decided that this man he spared would not be anything more than just some unlucky sucker he could forget about later.
But that's the things about suckers, they don't take him seriously.
The target of his ire was none other than the vomiting man he let go, the one he kindly told to not say anything about the whereabouts of Constantine's playground. It would ruin things, and it'll make his cat and mouse game with the Dietrich's pack a lot harder. He worked hard killing all those ferals to throw them off the trail, but it seems like all his work is now for nothing.
"Len-Len," He called playfully as he held on to the picture that was sent their way. It was of the five dead men he killed, and they were from the Hawthornes pack. "Who gave you this?"
In all honestly, he thought people should just get over it. He killed many more, but these men seem to be haunting him. He barely remembers them.
Lenora was chewing on her food holding an acai bowl in her hand, and she looked at him with clear disinterest wishing to be eating her brunch in peace.
Seems like this wasn't an option.
"Nobody important. Just men from the Hawthorne's pack."
Constantine threw the picture into the trash and snorted when it flew in the air and avoided it completely until it fell gently on the floor. "How many?"
"Two." She sighed mildly annoyed at the fact that he didn't bother to pick it up and throw it properly into the bin. "They came this morning asking for you."
So the Hawthorne's knew about this place, and it was about time before his dear father, Chris, knows about it, too.
In fact, he could vividly imagine him sitting in his study with a triumphant face plotting something just to ruin Constantine's fun. Although he was certain that his father wouldn't dismantle this whole thing they've got going on, he was absolutely sure that the next time he wakes up to his father's face from a drug-induced sleep, the first thing his father would do is gloat.
Constantine smiled to himself. It wasn't every day that his father got to win, so he guessed he could let him have this one.
"Since they asked for me, I should see what they want."
Lenora stopped mid-bite watching him kick himself off the chair with a mischievous look on his face. With a sigh, she put her spoon back into the bowl and wondered if he finally lost his mind.
"You're not going there, are you?"
"I am." He told her grinning from the door, one step away from walking out. "Don't worry too much about me."
The moment that he left was the moment she stared down at her acai bowl with a frown. "You're not who I am worried about." She mumbled to herself before she picked up her spoon and stuffed her face. Finally, a moment for her to relax.
She hoped she wouldn't see him again for a few days.
It was around late in the afternoon when Heather told her mother about her joining the cheerleading squad, and she wondered if her mother also noticed the handmade bracelets she was wearing. It was from her best friend and crush whom she was desperately trying to impress.
This is the whole reason why she bothered with the stupid cheerleading thing.
Still, she twirled in her place so her mother could see how nicely she filled the cheerleading outfit of her school, and she was watched with gleeful proud eyes as her mother hugged her.
"You look so nice." Her mother told her breaking the hug and another voice followed supporting her words.
"You do look very nice." Her father told her with a soft smile on his face as he walked in on them, and Heather couldn't help but hope that her crush, Allison, would think that, too. "You look exactly like yo- hold on."
A knock on the door interrupted their moment and she huffed wondering who it could be. She knew that she didn't order anything.
Before she could blame her mother for that, she watched in puzzlement as her father opened the door and let out an incoherent string of words almost stumbling as he took a few steps back. A tall man entered the house with a pleasant smile on his face and a gaze that followed her father's every move.
He made sure to kick the door shut behind him.
"You probably could guess why I am here." The man told her father standing casually in their hallway, and Heather shot a confused worried look towards her mother who was just as lost as her. They've never seen this man before.
"Please, I- I didn't. They kept mentioning it and I slipped up." Her father was taking a few steps back ready to flee, and in his fright, he forgot that the steps of the stairs were behind him as he fell back on them. "Please, no."
Honestly it was like watching a frightened pig.
Then for a terrifying moment, the man's eye fell on her.
"Hey, you did say you had a daughter." Her father was completely ignored as the man approached her with playfulness that was unsettling. She felt her mother hold her closer and pull her back, but it was futile. The man didn't care as he effortlessly drew her close, ripping her right out of her mother's grasp, and held her face in his hand. "I told your father that if he wanted to see you turn fifteen, he should keep his mouth shut. Are you fifteen yet?"
For some reason Heather remembered that night in winter when she almost fell into a frozen lake. Only her leg was submerged, but she found the iciness of that feeling engulf her in that moment. The only thing she could do was look into sinister green eyes and shake her head honestly.
"No." She answered shakily and her eyes glanced at her father who was slowly getting on his feet pressing himself into the wall behind him. "Please don't hurt me."
Heather was shamelessly crying at this point, and she could hear her mother beg for the same thing. It was her first day as a cheerleader, she had practice tomorrow. She didn't want to miss seeing Allison.
"Just kill her and leave."
The voice of her father cut through the tension like a knife would cut through foam. It ruined it, made it momentarily seem like it'll never fix itself back, but the tension was still all around them mending itself once more ignoring the tiny useless cut a knife would make. Exactly like foam.
Why did she even think of foam?
Maybe it was the foam mats she was going to use in practice tomorrow.
If there was a tomorrow for her.
"That's cold of you." The man laughed letting her face go and she stumbled back holding her cheeks feeling the painful throb ebb away from the loss of his hold. "I really don't like being told what to do. It annoys me. Guess you can't see her turn fifteen if you're the one who is dead."
Heather watched in horror as the man turned around and approached her father who regretted ever opening his mouth in more ways than one. The man then proceeded to grab him by his shirt and throw him back down on the stairs calmly with a force that was startling.
There was a reluctant pause there when he placed his foot on her struggling father's head as she helplessly watched.
"You know, this might cause some trauma you'd might want to avoid." He told them with a face that told them that he was really enjoying this, and before Heather could say or do anything stupid, she felt herself be dragged out of the back door by her terrified crying mother.
There were a few distant bangs she heard as she sat there on the grass feeling like her world was flipped upside-down, and she didn't know how to feel about the dying groans she could pick up from this distance. Mindlessly, her body moved on its own into one of the corners hiding herself from everything.
Her mother was hysterical, almost snapping her from her unresponsive state, and she didn't know how long it took for people to surround their house from all the commotion her mother was making. She was hearing voices, but she couldn't understand what they were saying.
All she knew is at one point a few men, including their future alpha, Alec, ran inside.
People were dying to see what was going on, and their neighbor who often had catty fights with her mother, was now consoling her. It was so weird.
It was so very-
"Are you alright?"
Somebody had noticed her, and she couldn't help but nod her head as an automatic response to that question. It was clear that she wasn't okay. She knew her father was dead, she heard him getting murdered. A small part of her was almost grateful for his killer to not allow her to see it.
Whoever asked her pulled her up to make her stand on her feet, and her skirt was now dirty form all the mud and grass she sat on, but that was the least of her worries.
Moments later she found herself wrapped in a heavy blanket that put a comforting pressure on her body, and she emotionlessly watched as her father's body was taken out on a stretcher.
She was sure that her life will never be the same from this point onwards.
And she couldn't help but silently thank the beautiful stranger who at least noticed her.