The Hunter and the Hunted ✔️

~•16•~

"Do you have a toothbrush?" My Dad asked, checking his own bag for a toothbrush. His little "mental checklist" was getting on my last nerve.

I nodded for the millionth time. "Dad. It's fine. Even if I forgot something, we live like—"

"Nope." My Dad shook his head. "You're staying there," He said sternly, one hand on his hip as he stood a little bit like Mom. I knew he missed her. "Do you have your dagger?"

I pulled it out from my waist loop and swung it between 2 fingers, smiling without light reaching my eyes. "Yes. And it's sharp enough to cut through bone."

My dad winked at me and then wrapped his arm around me. "Hear that Golds!? BONE! It'll cut through BONE." He glared at the suave black Mercedes Benz parked in front of my house."Golds. Always showing off." He muttered, spitting on the ground. He turned back to me and kissed my forehead. "Stay safe, Eve."

"You're the one going to Quebec." I retort.

He places his hands on my cheeks and smiles while widening his brown eyes. "You're not scared of witches are you?"

I shook my head, scoffing. "I'm more scared of the weather to be honest." I chuckled half heartedly, not doing a good job of trying to convince my dad that I wasn't scared. "Even though we don't exactly... feel the weather... the roads ya know... they're... icy."

He sighed and let go of my face, pulling away from me. "What does fear mean?"

"Weakness." I replied, shaking my head and trying to walk away, I didn't want to answer the stupid, dark, and honestly depressing family motto.

My dad grabbed my arm and smiled back with the same grin I had. I looked too much like him. "And what are we not?"

"Oh come on—"

"What are we not?" He asked, and I knew he'd ask until I gave in.

"Weak." I said reluctantly. I heard Kasp step out onto the porch, the old wood creaking.

"And why is that?" My Dad tested, not letting me go.

I groaned and stomped my foot. "D-a-d." I complained.

"Why is that, Eve?" He laughed, knowing full well that he was embarrassing me. "You know the—"

"Because weakness means death." Someone finished for me, their voice serious and obscure.

I spun as a girl too darkly beautiful for words stepped to me dramatically, a pair of dark shades covering her face.

If you wanted to feel small, plain, and unbecoming, stand next to the mysterious Constance Dawn; a woman who made the world stop when she wanted it to stop and go when she wanted it to go.

"Is that— CONSTANCE!" Kasparov stormed off the porch and stood angrily in front of her. "I see you decided to come back."

"Oh don't even. You begged me to come back." She took off her shades and cleaned them with the bottom of her black shirt, disregarding her father. She wasn't making eye contact, and to people as old as he was, that was a huge sign of disrespect. "I've been busy saving the world again you know. Hard stuff but... somebody has to do it." She shrugged casually, holding her shades up in the light to see if she cleaned them well enough.

He rolled his eyes. "No, I have a song stuck in my head. Can't remember who wrote it, but it isn't from this era and I can't find it on google." He hummed a tune and she sighed heavily, listening to it intently.

She shrugged. "Is it... Maison Dorée by Vingt Et Une Paniques À L'horizon?" She spoke some French mixed in with some English and my understanding ended there. I didn't know French and I only took spanish for two years.