Elizabeth was curled up tightly in her bed, she had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head had touched the pillow.
She had tossed and turned fitfully, groaning a little. She was unsettled. Through dreams she would not remember the next morning, she had burrowed her body deep into the blankets, despite the warmth of the night and there, hidden from the world, she had begun to sleep soundly.
Unknown to her, unknown to all five Emerson's in the house, they were not alone. Directly above Elizabeth's bed, sitting on the roof were three figures, their dark clothes masking their silhouettes.
One of the figures, his curled hair and bright jacket vaguely visible in the night, was flicking a dulled metal name tag into the air. Tossing it and catching it with ease. Tossing and catching in a pensive way.
Something was staining its surface, its metal wasn't reflecting in the dull moonlight.
Exhaling some smoke from a dull burning cigarette, the blonde boy with the wild hair from the boardwalk softly, with confusion and commiseration said, "I can't believe you didn't get her, bud…" he shook his head, inhaling now, "when the fuck has that not worked?"
"I got her," Marko's reply came, an angry scowl marring his cherubic features, "I had her. She was coming, man…" he caught the falling name tag and closed his fist angrily on it, it's tacky coating staining his fingers scarlet, "that fucking booth rat…"
His words now matched the anger on his face and he sneered, opening his fist and glancing uncaringly at the name tag…the bloodstained name tag. He flung it far into the distance.
That fucking booth rat wasn't going to interrupt anyone anymore.
"Yeah but you had to work harder than usual though, right?" the blonde asked unobtrusively, following the tag with his eyes, looking into the distance.
"Yes" Marko admitted, his voice hard.
He had always been able to exert easy control over people; men, women, children…if it had a pulse, he could control them. It was easy, like puppets on a string. The others had the same ability but his, his was far and beyond stronger.
Stronger until tonight.
"She's claimed" came an icy smooth voice from the shadows, "that's why it was harder. Maybe if the interruption hadn't occurred, if she'd have followed…we knew it was a long shot…" the speaker pursed his lips, thinking fleetingly of what could have been, "I should have been there" he finished.
"No, David" Marko replied easily enough, looking over. His voice was still hard but there was no malice directed towards the others.
David stepped forward, bringing himself between his two companions, "we each had our roles tonight. I don't think it would have made a difference. It felt wrong, anyway", Marko continued with a frown.
He hated failing.
"Wrong?" the wild haired blonde asked, his brows furrowed. This was new.
"Can't explain it, Paul" Marko's terse reply, "it just felt wrong and then that fucking music blasted…" he trailed off, scowling again.
Paul had finished his cigarette, drilling the stub into the roof tile, he looked from Marko to David, not saying anything.
What was there to say?
"Did Star…" Marko started, obviously stewing in his thoughts.
"Hook, line and sinker. He's ours" David stated with one sure nod, his earrings shaking as he moved.
"One out of two" Paul said lowly with an easy shrug.
Brutal killer though he was, with his penchant for the slow, drawn out torture of the prettiest of women, Paul was incredibly relaxed, almost happy-go-lucky. Always smiling, laughing. Always ridiculously positive. He could be slowly, reverently snapping the individual tendons and muscles of his victim, licking his fingers and lips as blood splashed out, but still smiling, talking happily and casually.
"Not how we wanted it to go down, sure" Paul spoke again, lowly but not as serious as before, "but we got one and we made a connection with the other" he spoke harder at Mark's scoff, "ugh, stop wallowing man, that's better than nothing...besides, maybe this wasn't how it was supposed to go down?"
David smiled lightly and briefly, his eyes flashing to Paul.
Paul continued, "it sucks, I'm with you on that. But this is a start…"
He rolled his eyes, standing up as Marko flipped him off.
"Such a little bitch" he laughed at the younger looking man, "your ego is so fuckin' fragile"
Marko stood too, looking at Paul with both annoyance and anger. Paul wasn't paying attention anymore, clearly done with the conversation. He was looking down, having pulled some papers and tobacco from the pocket of his tattered tux jacket.
David also stood, moving fluidly and silently. Everything about him screamed predator and Marko looked to him, waiting for him to speak.
"Paul's right, it's a start and with Michael already so invested in Star…I don't think we need to be concerned. That being said, we should go, we're not achieving anything by being here right now" David spoke, his voice soft, softer than one would think possible.
Marko and Paul nodded their agreement, eyes flicking to a space just away from the roof.
David's eyes followed theirs, "Dwayne?"
"Dwayne" David's voice was a little sharper now.
There was movement and, faster than the human eye could catch, a figure had pulled himself effortlessly up on the roof.
David studied the new arrival, silently. Appraising him.
"Dwayne, you need to feed. You don't want to be here and hungry…" he cautioned, his voice becoming almost kinder, understanding.
Paul was watching Dwayne, staring at his deadpan face which was revealing nothing of his thoughts. His long, dark hair was moving with the wind but otherwise, he was still.
Dwayne finally nodded his agreement. He looked briefly at his three friends, giving them no indication that he had been listening to their conversation, giving no indication that he wanted to begin sharing his thoughts.
"Sorry about the way it went, bud" Paul said with an easy smile, patting Dwayne's broad shoulder as he took an equally easy step off the roof.
Paul knew their occasionally stoic friend would speak if and when he wanted.
Marko, still angry with his failure and feeling a sense of shame, refused to meet Dwayne's eyes and followed the perky blonde silently.
"He's angry" David said, looking at Dwayne, "he hates that he failed, he hates feeling like he's let down his pack"
"He didn't let the pack down" Dwayne replied, his voice deep and sincere.
That was it.
No comment about the evening's events, no mention of the sleeping figure below.
David nodded, Dwayne would talk when he was ready, "maybe he'll feel better after he's eaten…"
David grinned.
They stepped off the roof in unison, disappearing into the night.
The discarded cigarette stub and the deep claw mark Dwayne had left embedded in the guttering above Elizabeth's window were the only signs something was amiss.