Emery and Malakai

"Why should I call him that? He gave himself that name. Like you can't give yourself a nickname. It has to be given to you or else it's just sad, right?"

Emery clenched her fists for what felt like the fifteenth time this hour. She had been listening to her cousin's bitch for the better half of a day. She was a stickler for getting the job done quickly and efficiently, especially, when they were on a mission. So, she did not appreciate Malakai's dumb ass comments. The two Tylenol's she took earlier was enough to prove it.

"Like, dude, I totally get it that you're the darkest wizard of all time, but you named yourself. Like you can't have the option to name yourself only to give yourself a stupid ass name like Voldemort. Like, what the actual fuck is that?"

"Oh my God, Malakai," Emery finally let out. "I'm trying to concentrate because in case you haven't noticed we are in the fucking FBI headquarters and I have to find your mother and not get caught so just stop-stop doing...doing...doing basically everything you're doing right now which is nothing and give him another dose!"

Malakai scoffed and put his feet off the Director of the FBI's desk and absentmindedly wiped the crumbs of his authentic 7 Eleven croissants on the floor. "Seriously, Em, you need to lay off," he said as he used a memory rag to wipe the director's head to help his subconscious forget anything that involves magic. It was a product that he proudly invented to get through numerous police officers back in the day. The happiness he felt when he was told he could use his old gadgets again was better than any drug. Expect jigglyhuff. That shit sent him to a whole other dimension. "Dude, ever since Cairo, you've been all up on my grill. Like I didn't even invite you to my barbecue."

Malakai had been going at it with any girl that was willing all across the ocean since the beginning of summer. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem except that he is 14 years old. With no parents or guardians in sight to guide him, the responsibility of being the mature adult fell on Emery. Lord knows Abbigail won't every grow up any time soon to do it. She won't even take care of her sister, Proserpina. Much less the Dennis the Menace clone.

What sucks the most out this whole ordeal is that Emery is only 15 years old. She shouldn't be taking care of anyone at that age. Much less a hyperactive hormonal sex-crazed teenager that has a thing for doing dangerously nefarious acts. She had tried to understand him and give him leniency, but not anymore. Bitch Emery is officially out.

"Ever since Cairo you've been gaining us attention by fuck-"

"Healing," Malakai corrected. "Having sex with me is very healing to the soul of sinners."

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a second," she darkly retorted just before slamming the enter key on the computer.

Their current mission was to find information on the whereabouts of the missing Ellis Hadley Osbourne, the last known Prophet and Emery's mother. They needed her now more than ever due to the fact that once Ophelia was free, enemies would come for her. They need someone who can see what was going to happen before it happened to protect Ophelia while they were at school. And Ellis was the only way of doing that.

They tried using a blood tracker to find her, but she's either dead or cloaked herself from a tracker spell.

Last time anybody heard of Ellis, she was running from the FBI because of some terrorist thing that occurred in Chicago. Some clain she was caught others said she was still on the run.

Luckily, they did catch Ellis. However, instead of throwing her in a prison they gave her to a private organization centered in...New Orlean?

"New Orleans?" Emery wondered out loud.

Malakai made his way to see the junky computer and made a face of complete horror. "One of the most powerful witches of all time in New Orleans? Really? New Orleans? Talk about stereotypical."

Emery shook her head in frustration. "Discrepancy in obviousness. Of fucking course."

Malakai clicked further into the file. "Shit!" he exclaimed.

"Oh God, what now?"

He pointed to the address of the company. "This girl is fucking with the

She was trying to print out the file the FBI had of the organization in order to infiltrate it with Malakai and the gang later.

Emery was seriously doubting partnering Lennox with Abbigail at this point. But Emery needs an escape artist to get in and out of the FBI headquarters.

A terrible sound was coming from the computer signaling that it was printing. Oh, the 90s.

Malakai cringed. His newly developed transformation still made him very sensitive. Mostly on the hearing part. The stupid computer in his ear felt like a hammer pounding in his head.

Suddenly, Emery felt sympathy for him. He was just a kid suffering from the family curse like she did. Being the Momma Bear that she was, she was about to give a hug, but that thought quickly went away when he opened his mouth.

"You still mad that Blake doesn't want to smash?" He asked bluntly stirring the subject to Emery's sexual frustration. "That must be it for being a control freak 24/7. You can always try Oliver Wood, I bet if you talk enough Quidditch-"

Emery scoffed and took out the freshly printed papers from the printer next to her.

Although Thaddaeus is very present in their lives, he only has custody of Abbigail and Proserpina and even then he only got it five months before Proserpina started Hogwarts and Abbigail was well into her 3rd year. Saint Emiliani Orphanage for Wayward Children in Ireland is the legal guardian for Lennox. Malakai is in Severus Snape's care for the time being. This leaves Emery as the only one in the group with actual parental figures so, she tries her hardest tl visit them during every break.

Blake Wilfred is arguably the third hottest guy in Franklin H. High, the American high school right across the street from her adopted parent's house in Cleveland. Blake flirted with Emery every chance he got. One day they both got drunk at a make-out party. Things got steaming so, they took it the guest bedroom. For some reason, Blake wouldn't go all the way with her. He said, "You're too pure and I can't be the one destroy that." Ever since that night she hadn't been all that enthusiastic about going back home.

Truth be told, Emery only wanted to go all the way to relieve herself of the Little Miss Perfect title. It had seriously damaged her cred as a serious killer. She needed something to vanquish the notion of being a prissy good witch so, she tried to lose her purity. Sexual that is. She lost all other types of purity long before that.

"Not everyone wants to have sex, Malakai," she lied while deleting all evidence that she or Malakai was even there. "Some of us want a long and meaningful relationship filled with love and happiness and a bunch of other bullshit fucking fantasies so that when we die it doesn't suck ass because only two people are at your funeral and they're you and the funeral director."

Malakai took one look at his pissed off cousin and tried. He really did try to contain his laughter, but it just burst out of him. Earning him a sharp glare from Emery.

"I'm so fucking sorry!" He laughed with a bright smile on his face. "It's just you really think about this shit, huh?"

Emery casually pushed the devil reincarnated off the chair next to her, only to unhesitatingly step over his body, with heels, to walk to the opposite side of the poorly decorated office to drag the Director up and onto the God-awful bland couch.

"First of All, She-Hulk," Malakai began. "Rude." He got up from the dirty carpet floor and made his way toward his cousin. "Second of all, I am the only one in room that can get us the hell out this place. So, show some respect to the Joker and say goodbye to the shitty polyjuice potion and say hello to my handy dandy teleporter."

Malakai whipped out a creepy looking glowing orb from his pocket. "Ta-da!" He explained.

Emery just stared at the Thing in confusion. "Where the fuck did you get that from?" She asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Um, my backapack," he stated as if she was a child. "You were there when I enchanted it. Jesus Christ, get your eyes checked, Erkel."

"Seriously, Mal. Where the hell did you get this?" Emery shook her head in sudden realization. "Wait, that's not the question I should be asking. I know you. I should be asking 'What the hell is that and how long have you had it?"

Malakai sighed knowing that he'd have to dumb down the invention of his transporter to Emery. Sure, she was smart, but when it came to an explanation of something she tended to get lost and ask stupid ass questions that made him internally judge her. And he hates judging Emery.

"It's a Malakai Black original. I took a hair of Ophelia right before we left and infused it into the orb, I stole from Snape during my first year, with my blood. Since she's in a magical coma powered by whoever cast the curse and Ophelia's power, I figured I could use the excess of magic to power this orb to a one-way ticket the fuck outta here. So, just hold me and we'll be on our way."

"And you've been doing this the whole time you were antagonizing me about my nonexistent sex life?"

"Yup," he answered popping the 'p'.

Normally she would be complimenting Malakai for the genius idea except he currently sucks in her book. So, Emery just simply rolled her eyes. "I hate you," she stated as she held the Malakai's shoulder.

"No, you don't."

Malakai gave Emery his infamously wicked smile. "Fair warning, brace yourself and tuck your head in."

He quickly grabbed the hand with the palm tattoo and placed it on the bottom of the orb while he placed his palm tattoo on the top of it causing it to glow hazardous bright light.

"Why would I need to-MALAKAI!"