Yeah, High School sucks. I have to get used to it.

,,,,

MAX POV

The weather was gross and icky when we stepped out of the car to the entrance of the apartment. It was tall, and it seemed to be swaying in the quick, cool wind.

"Mommy. Are we staying in the monster?" Angel tugged Mom's hand, her big blue eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh, its no monster. It just a big, tall-"

"Hello! How may I help you?" A man by the age of 50 stood at the front steps of the 'monster'. A crack of lightning swooped above our heads.

Oh. He's THAT type of guy.

He led us inside, to the brick fireplace in the center of the room, toasting my feet and hands. Gazzy and ANgel looked around the modern setting in awe. Hey, I couldn't blame them.

HE then took us up the elevator to our room (How did he know us?) and gave us a short tour. "You are the Martinez's, right? Good. Very good." He shook Mom's hand, and looked over at me. "And you are..?"

"Max." I didn't need to shake his hand. They looked gross, all pale and scratched. And germs, second of all. I stalked off to what was to become my room.

It had white walls and hard wood floors, like the rest. There was a big window near the end of it.

"Oh great. Now people can see me ALL the time."

"Do you like it?" I jumped (just a little) to the sound of his voice. It turned slowly.

"I'm Mr. Kramer, by the way." There's that hand again.

"That's great. Don't you need to talk with my mom about all this?" I gestured towards the door. "I'm not an adult."

"Yes. I know. But I would like to get your opinion."

"Oh. It's cool, I guess. Is that good enough for you?" I didn't like the feel of this place. I needed to stretch my wings.

"Yes." (He says 'Yes' alot, doesn't he?) "LIsten here, Max. I have a son about your age. There has been drama of murder around here, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt. He can take you to school and back." Do I look like I can't handle myself?

"Uh, no thanks. I can take care of myself." What a creep.

"You can talk to him. I'm sure you'll feel better that way." He smiled, then disapeared out of the room.

Great. Just when I thought I was enjoying myself.

,,,,,

Fang POV

I wasn't so sure how my mom would feel with me killing people.

But she was cool with it.

If I didn't do it right, I knew I would get into trouble with the big boss, and THAT would be quite eventful.

Did I tell you Mr. Kramer owns an apartment place? Yeah. And I kill people.

Correction: I killed someone.

He had called me over, for a reason that people moved there. He said there was a girl.

Does he want me to kill her..?

No.

I walked through the door way of the apartment building, feeling the warm, toasty air. "Hello?" I walked to the back of the office, where I found Mr. Kramer.

"Oh, Nick. Hello." Is he going to ask me about my job..?

"There is a girl upstairs, about your age. I wanted you to talk to her, get under her skin."

"Uh, why?"

"Becuase there is something wrong with her. This is spying, not killing. Can you handle that?"

"Sure." With a short nod, I backed out of the room up the stairs. He slipped me the room number. Hopefully the girl was ugly.

Maybe that's what he meant by "Something's wrong with her." Yeah. I can do this.

I mean after all, I just killed somebody.

I went up to their door and knocked. Time to put on the charm.

A woman opened the door. She grinned. "Oh hello."

"Hi. I'm the son of Mr. Kramer-"

"Oh! Did he want you to talk to Max? He told me how dangerous it's getting here."

"Exactly. So can I come in?"

"Sure, honey!" She stepped away from the door and called: "Max! Someone's here for youu!" She then went over to attend to a little boy and girl in the living room.

As soon as she walked out, I was speechless.

She had long legs, which were clad in jeans. She was tall over all, but that's not what got me.

Her face was beautiful, with her deep brown eyes and-

"Oh. It's you. Tell your idiot father I don't need help. I can handle myself very well." She didn't even glance to my face. Then, she spun on her heel and walked to her room.

I guess I have to follow her.

She was throwing books to her bed, and she glanced up at me.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"My father's order was to speak with you."

"Orders? It's called personal space."

"Yeah. But there are gangs at night, and the alleyways are cruel. I can be your body guard."

"I've been guarding my body for 17 years. I can do it for even more. So don't waste your time."

"I'm Nick, by the way."

"Nick. Well that's fine. Do you go to school?"

"No. I'm 18."

"College?"

"I'm not that type." She was back to sorting clothes into her dresser drawers.

"Good for you. Well, I look forward to not seeing you soon, Nick." She turned back to me.

"I'll see you tomorrow Max."

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,