Chase carried the next box up to his new bedroom with a heavy sigh, wiping the slight beading of sweat from his brow. No matter how many times they did it, moving never got any less tiring.

Him and his mother had just finished what had to be the longest drive in history. Central Florida was a far cry from the rural town Adelaide had chosen to set up shop in, and though Chase was not particularly argumentative about the move, he did not appreciate the sudden upheaval of his entire life. He knew better than to not expect it, though. His mother's last assignment had wrapped up less than ideally.

He was used to the frequent changes in location, though, no matter which town or state or country they ended up in next. Even so, he was still unused to the coolness in the air. They'd been in Florida for the better part of a year, and the heat and humidity stuck around no matter what season it was. It felt so unnatural for it to be this cool in the spring, and while most locals were out in what was practically summer clothing already, Chase had taken it upon himself to pull on his tried and true sweater and sweatpants.

He turned to the sound of a knock at the door and met his mother's eyes, offering a small smile by way of apology. The argument they'd gotten into two hours into the road trip had ended up in destitute silence for the rest of the full day drive, and now that they'd both gotten some rest the whole thing seemed stupid.

Adelaide was carrying another box, marked on the outside to show the contents as more books for the floor to ceiling shelves on the opposite side of the room.

"Where do you want this, kiddo?" She asked quietly, a tired tone underlying her voice as happy as she sounded. Chase crossed the room quickly and took the heavy box from her arms, setting it down next to a shelf with a determination to get his collection organized by the end of the day. It was the first thing he did in every new house, no matter where they moved to.

"I'm seventeen, mom, I'm not a kid anymore." He said, turning back toward the petite woman. She rolled her eyes and smiled, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to warm herself as she went to inspect the window. Chase had elected for the attic room on the uppermost floor, preferring its arched ceiling and resolute privacy from the rest of the house.

"It's a lot colder here, huh Chase." She said, seeming rather happy about it. Chase understood it perfectly. Heat and humidity were a disaster for their hair texture, and neither of them enjoyed the warmer weather all that much. He nodded and turned back to his bookshelf, busying himself counting the boxes on the hardwood floor and making sure he'd gotten all of them in the correct spots. His mother opened her mouth as if to say something else, which Chase expected to be an apology, but a loud crash from the lower floor interrupted them. They both snapped their gazes to the doorway of the little bedroom, and before Chase could get ahead of her, Adelaide was already on her way down the stairs. She sincerely hoped it wasn't one of the boxes of glassware she'd stacked precariously in their new kitchen. That would be a pain and a half to clean up, and neither of them wanted to deal with that after an entire twenty-seven hours inside a vehicle.

The boy turned back to the shelf with a sigh. He still had quite a few more heavy boxes to carry up the stairs into his room, including a mattress and another bookshelf that he arrogantly thought he could handle without disassembling it. What a stupid choice that had been. The shelf was nearly as tall as he was, and that was still not counting the other four he'd already put together and the one he still needed to do. Having as much free time as he did constituted his sheer collection of tomes. Being a bookworm had its perks.

He sighed and rubbed at the sore muscles in his arms. It had been a severe mistake to exercise the day before all of this happened. He was by no means looking forward to lugging the remaining boxes up the staircase.

Still, it was better to get it done now than put it off for later, so he headed back down the stairs to retrieve the rest of his belongings. Maybe he should go digital with his book collection. That would be incredibly helpful if they had to leave in a hurry again.

It took him until he got all the way down the stairs to realize the deathly silence coming from the kitchen, and when he noticed his mother standing there, pale as a ghost. He slowed his pace as she noticed his presence and slipped a hand behind her back, signing to him because she couldn't warn him properly.

Hide.

And he was about to do just that, angling himself to blend into the shadow of the wall and stepping back halfway into the hall closet under the staircase, when he actually caught a clear view of the intruder.

He was dressed in all black, just like all the good ones were, silently staring at his mother with his finger on the trigger of a matte black pistol. He hadn't said a word about Chase, but that was probably because he didn't see him. The sole focus of his attention was his mother. This was a revenge kill. Had to be.

A cold chill worked its way down his spine as he realized Adelaide had left her firearm in the car. She was standing in open space. If he didn't do something and fast they were both screwed.

He looked around frantically for anything he could use as a weapon or even just as a distraction. If he could just get his focus off of his mother...

A wooden rolling pin caught his eye and he hurled it at the intruder without thinking, catching the man square between the eyes with an expert precision that suggested years of practice. The firearm clattered to the floor with a metallic thud, and Chase moved quickly but silently to collect the weapon. The assailant hadn't seen him yet. Better to keep it that way until he had the upper hand.

"Son of a bitch!" The man roared, grabbing blindly at the floor for his pistol. When he finally looked up Chase pulled the trigger without a second thought, putting a bullet between his eyes with a suppressed bang. Just as he was taught. Adelaide sighed and Chase rolled his eyes, setting the gun down on the counter and taking a deep breath to steady himself as nausea built in his stomach. The wave of panic rising in his chest quickly subsided, though, and he was back to being more annoyed about the situation than anything else. This was not the first time he'd done this, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Instances like this were a common occurrence. It was an occupational hazard with Adelaide's chosen profession. She was a spy of sorts, uncovering things nobody wanted uncovered and digging up corpses nobody wanted to see the light of day. A lot of people wanted her dead. Thankfully, seeing as they could never do their own dirty work, they'd hire someone incompetent to do the job for them. Hence the masked intruder slumped on the floor in their brand new kitchen, getting blood all over the white tiles and making Chase groan in frustration. It was most definitely going to stain the grout, and cleaning with bleach always gave him a headache.

His mother shook her head, her brow furrowing in an obvious show of confusion and annoyance.

"First at the hotel and now here? What is up with this guy?" She pondered aloud, casting a quick glance to her son to make sure he was alright like she always did when things of this nature happened. He shrugged and began walking toward the door, cracking his neck.

"I'll get the trash bags." He mumbled, his annoyance clear in his voice. So much for a quiet moving day.

...

Chase set the book he was reading down on his bedside table and thought a bit about the stressful day he'd had. This was happening more and more often, and honestly it was getting kind of concerning.

Adelaide will have already dumped the body someplace or other. The man's agency would've found him by now. There's no way they'd risk the body being found by police.

The teenager sighed and pulled himself out of bed, waking quietly down the staircase and into the kitchen where his mother was gathering her things. Evidently she'd be working nights while they lived there, which was new but not unexpected. Her schedules often shifted depending on the job.

"You sure you'll be okay home alone?" She asked, a concerned look crossing her features despite her child's obvious ability to care for himself.

"I'll be fine, mom." He reassured her, handing her the car keys and gesturing toward the door. "Now get going, you're gonna be late." He said with a small smile. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and rushed to the front door, pausing to remind him to make sure the doors were locked before heading to bed. He gave a thumbs up, and with that she left.

He turned on his heel and went back upstairs to his bedroom, slipping on his boots and a warm sweater. He had decided to go on a walk through the woods tonight a few minutes after his mother had left to dispose of the intruder. He started taking them when he was twelve, finding it helped clear his mind and calm his nerves after a particularly eventful day. He grabbed two switchblades from his dresser, sticking one inside his boot and the other in his pocket. He grabbed his keys and headed out the back door, making sure it was securely locked behind him before shoving his hands in his pockets and starting toward the forest. He didn't think it particularly necessary, but it was better safe than sorry. He'd rather not get kidnapped again, thanks.

Chase had only been kidnapped once before, which was honestly surprising considering the circumstances. He had been thirteen at the time, out on another walk at night as he usually was, and his abductors thought him an easy target for reasons he didn't know. They wanted information from Adelaide, and they somehow thought kidnapping her incredibly dangerous child was the best way to extract it. To this day, he didn't know why. His reputation preceded him even then.

He had only been gone for three hours, returning home with his clothes covered in sticky, half dried blood, most of which did not belong to him. He would've escaped sooner, but, well... he had a history test the next day that he was absolutely dreading, and he honestly kind of enjoyed playing the scared little kid. The men -always men that underestimated him- had been too careless to search him, and as a result had missed the knife tucked away in his back pocket. That mistake had been a costly one, and they died quite embarrassing deaths.

He shook his head to rid himself of the memory and stepped past the treeline, heading into the forest that happened to be situated just at the edge of the house's backyard. A relaxed sigh left his lips, though he was still carefully alert.

Once he'd settled into his surroundings, he pulled the blade out of his pocket and pressed the button on the handle, smiling as it popped open. Old reliable, this was the first switchblade he'd ever acquired for his collection. Still worked like a charm.

He began toying with the weapon, twirling it between his fingers and tossing it up into the air. He caught the object over and over, just narrowly avoiding cutting himself with a practiced ease that indicated years of experience. He felt the last of the tension leave his shoulders as he started getting more elaborate with his activities, throwing the sharp blade up in the air and doing a quick twirl, catching it behind his back.

He'd started learning the tricks as a way to pass the time, really. It also helped him relax to go through the familiar repetition of patterns. Over the years he'd honed his skills quite well, though the most elaborate of tricks still gave him trouble. He was the son of a mercenary, sure, but he was still human. It was only natural for him to be a little clumsy every once in a while.

He perked up as he heard a faint noise, stilling in his movements and catching the blade upright in his hand. His wary eyes searched through the trees, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise.

A fawn came bounding out the brush, tilting its curious head at him. He sighed, relieved he wasn't in for a fight, and flipped the blade shut, engaging the safety switch so it didn't accidentally pop open in his pocket. He'd done it way too many times to forget now, and he had the scars to prove it.

"Just a deer." He mumbled, shoving the item back into his pocket and turning back to the nonexistent path he'd been following. He still felt anxious, however. He knew the feeling of being watched better than most, and an uncomfortable chill ran its way up his spine. Definitely not alone, then. He couldn't tell exactly where he was being watched from, so he proceeded carefully, eyes darting around every so often to take in his surroundings. He was just about to brush off the feeling as pointless anxiety, as it tended to happen quite often, when he heard the low rumble of laughter coming from somewhere above. He looked up quickly, his eyes searching in all directions before finally turning around and spotting the source of the noise. Sitting there on the lengthy limb of a tall tree was another boy, seemingly around his age, head tilted back as he laughed heartily.

"Humans." He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked back down. "Always so cautious." he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. Chase sighed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and resting his weight on one hip. He quirked an eyebrow at the other, as he was nothing if not a creature of pure attitude.

"Bold words for someone who's also human." He said pointedly, looking entirely unamused. "Who even are you, anyways?" The boy paused and looked down at him, head tilted with a confused expression on his face, and Chase was startled by the realization that the stranger's eyes were red. Not bloodshot, no. His irises themselves were legitimately a deep shade of red. Maybe a genetic mutation?

"You can hear me?" He asked, genuine confusion in his voice. Chase gave him an unimpressed look, spreading his arms wide and gesturing to the wide space.

"What do you mean 'can I hear you?' You're sitting right in front of me. It's not like there's a lot of noise out here. How could I not?" I mean, honestly, he was being so loud it was kind of hard to miss. The stranger stared for a moment and shook his head, climbing down the tree with an efficiency that told Chase he'd probably been living around here his entire life.

"Sorry, I... forgot my manners." He said, the underlying apprehension in his voice noticeable to Chase even through the mask of regular confusion. He wiped his hand on his jeans and extended it. "I'm Blake. You are?" He asked, the apprehension from a moment ago replaced by curiosity. Chase looked him up and down, considering him and the underlying strength behind his build. His arms were muscular but not bulky. his frame was similar to Chase's, though 'Blake' was definitely taller than him.

He wasn't a threat, at least for now. Chase took his hand and shook it, eyes still carefully observing his movements, keeping track of where his hands were.

"Chase." He answered cautiously, skepticism slipping into his tone as he spoke. "What are you doing in the woods at this hour?" He asked, pulling his hand away and slipping it into his pocket to grip the knife there. Better to be prepared, even if Blake didn't seem even vaguely threatening.

"Could ask you the same question." Blake replied, making an unnerving amount of eye contact that made Chase stifle a shiver. His unblinking gaze was unsettling.

"I'm on a walk." Chase said, rolling his eyes. As if it wasn't obvious. Blake gestured toward his left hand, buried inside his pocket.

"And the knife?" He asked, eyeing Chase suspiciously. He loosened his grip on the object hesitantly, then finally reasoned he could probably handle a fist fight, if it came to that. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and shrugged, projecting an air of nonchalance. If Blake didn't see him as a threat yet, it was best not to make himself seem like one.

"Safety." He said simply, remembering the way this conversation had started. "What exactly did you mean by humans? Last time I checked, you certainly don't look like a wild animal to me." He said. Blake gave a startled sound before he could help himself, but quickly schooled his expression into carefully guarded curiosity rather than the outright surprise he actually felt.

"How did you..." He started, trailing off as his expression showed his increasing levels of confusion. "How did you remember that?" He said under his breath, like Chase wasn't standing less than two feet away from him and couldn't hear every single word he was saying. Chase's expression mirrored Blake's, as now he was just as confused as he was.

"Do I look like a goldfish to you?" He asked, honestly kind of insulted. "You said it less than five minutes ago, how on earth would I forget?" He asked. Blake stepped closer to him. examining his features. He circled the boy, and Chase, not comfortable with having him out of his line of sight, shifted his gaze to follow him.

Blake lifted his arms and poked at his shoulders, and Chase was so confused with the attention that he didn't resist. Blake ran his fingers through the last few inches of his thick black hair, noting just how long it was. It nearly reached the thin boy's hips, stopping just below his waist.

"Interesting mortal." He muttered under his breath. Really it was an understatement. He looked him up and down, considering him, and Chase was beginning to grow uncomfortable at the scrutiny.

And what the hell did he mean by 'Mortal'?