Intrusion

It had been night when Amari finally refocused. He'd sat there for quite a damn minute. He didn't feel like he was soft or bitchy—just human. Amari chuckled aloud as he sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting atop his knees. 

"You win, Ryse. You win." He stood up, eyes scanning the room for the last time. Then they closed. It had been years ago Amari was last in the room. Both moments he'd stood in the same spot.

He remembered how Ryse had sat on the edge of the bed. Same way the vampire had before. It was because his wife died. Motherfucker didn't even let Amari see him cry. Just sat there with his everlasting smile—the one he'd had their whole lives. 

Amari forced the memory away, yet another one came. 

Another memory. Ryse pulled the trigger on himself, blood splattering on the walls of the bunker. The memory spoke again: 'Take care of my daughter,' he'd said.

Amari dragged a hand down his face. "You win." He stood up, exiting the room as he rubbed his arms. 

Downstairs. Amari made his way down the last step, sending a glance towards Alanna. She'd been better. Looked like they'd both made some progress. 

As he made his way over, Amari noticed her new demeanor. She was in the same spot on the couch, sure. Yet, now she sat up, legs tucked underneath her and arms crossed. The vampire was glad to see the damn tears gone.

Progress.

Amari crossed the living room and lowered himself into the armchair across from her. He didn't say a word. Simply sat there.

Alanna broke the damn silence. Sent a sideways glance his way as she spoke.

"My dad… You knew him?" For fucking nothings sake, she knew that already. It really wasn't the time for small talk.

Amari waited a bit, rested his hands on his knees as he looked at the girl. Hazelnut eyes fixated on him. 

"Yeah," he finally opened his mouth. His voice was low, soft and steady. "We were close."

"How close?"

He let out a slow breath through his nose, leaned back into the chair. "He was like a brother to me."

She stared intently at him. For fuck's sake, the hell did she want from him?

"Were you there? When he…" Shit. He paused again, jaw tightening. Too many damn questions.

"Maybe." Amari shifted his gaze away from her as he muttered.

"Maybe?" Take it or leave it.

Amari stared into the kitchen where he'd gotten the champagne. He might've needed another one. Wasn't a bad idea.

"Why are you really here?" 

"I told you that already." She pouted at that. He'd seen it in the corner of his eye. Amari let out a soft chuckle as his mind wandered.

He thought of the last time he saw Alanna. She'd only been five. A giggling mess of missing teeth and dirty hands, racing through Ryse's kitchen while her father shouted about knocking over wine bottles. It was one of the few days Amari had been off duty.

Fate didn't waste time fucking it away. 

His mind was brought back to the moment as he heard Alanna's voice calling out to him. "Hey!" He glanced over at her, lazily. Didn't speak.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're not answering anything." Well, that was a goddamn shame, wasn't it? 

Alanna opened her mouth to speak—but Amari suddenly raised a hand. They paused as Amari's eyes narrowed. He took several deep breaths as he focused on the sudden noise.

Clack. Footsteps, not far away. Not far at all. 

Clack. Clack. Clack. They were closer now.

Amari tensed slightly. Whatever bastard had been coming, Amari was sure he'd ship them back in a body bag. 

His eyes flashed as he stood up, perfectly in time with the knock that came from the door.

He turned to Alanna, his voice barely above a whisper. "Go upstairs, hide under the bed. Don't make a damn sound."

She blinked. "What—?"

"Go," he said—heavier this time. Alanna flinched, looking at his firm demeanor. For a moment, she hesitated. But soon she nodded, footsteps light as she went upstairs.

The moment she left—whatever expression Amari had been wearing vanished. In its place, something else slid in—his face became cool, polished. He made his way to the door, twisted the handle open. Leaning there like he had all the time in the world.

"Linston Family Home," he'd said, voice smooth. "How are you?"

The man on the porch didn't smile back.

Gray suit. Clean cut. Steel-colored tie. The kind of face that didn't blink unless it had a reason. 

His eyes narrowed as his voice rang flat. "Drop the act, Amari."

Instantly, the mask dropped. Amari's shoulders slumped, eyelids drooped, and chest leaned in slightly. 

"The fuck're you here for?" No pretext, motherfucker? Alright then.

The man didn't flinch. "We had no idea where you went. Not at first. But then there was a murder in the city. Something strange. Department said it was a ghost. Someone who didn't exist. Clean kill. No prints. No trace."

His eyes flicked past Amari, toward the house behind him.

"And the kicker? It was really close to where Ryse used to live."

Amari's jaw tightened.

"You know, Ryse tried like hell to keep her hidden. But we always knew about his daughter. Hospital records don't just disappear."

Amari leaned deeper against the doorframe, his hand casually resting on the knob.

"So what?" he said. "There's not a damn thing you can do to me now. Might not like it myself, but it sure as hell is convenient for little air-polluters like you."

The agent didn't blink. His mouth barely moved.

"We could always do something to her."

Amari's entire frame tensed, the silence was immediate.

Then, slowly, methodically, Amari stepped forward, face to face with the man. Stared him dead in the eyes.

"You know," he said, voice low, "I have a certain level of respect for ballsy little bastards like you."

He smirked coldly, light in his eyes disappearing. Motherfucker was really testing his patience, and Amari never had much to begin with. 

"I'm kind of jealous," he continued, forehead an inch away from the man. "What would you do if I decided to slaughter the lot of you and be done with it?" He turned away, throwing his arm to the side as he leaned against the doorframe once more.

"Go on." He turned back to the man. "Tell me." His smile faded as he stared the man into the eyes. He was an inch away at the time. Just an inch away from stacking heads into a lego playhouse.

The agent didn't answer, trembling just faintly. He kept his composure, yet his pupils dilated. He had no right to be scared, not after threatening Amari with that bullshit.

They didn't move, didn't speak. Not for a while.

"Well, then we'd kill you both." The man's eyes narrowed, but Amari noticed the slight tremble in his limbs. How the hell was he making threats while trembling in fear?

Amari slowly stepped forward once more, eyes glinting as he fixed his gaze on the man.

"Well, it seems…" he said, continuing forward as the man reached for the gun on his hip. "You guys think I'm your bitch." The man took five steps back to the bottom of the stairs. Apparently, he also thought pointing a gun at Amari was smart.

"If you don't set that down on the ground," he started, taking two steps towards the man. That piece of shit really wanted to test his patience. "Or I'll be setting your corpse down tonight." The fucker didn't listen.

The man loaded his pistol. 

Foosh. 

Amari appeared in front of him, hand on his throat as the man was lifted above the ground. His pistol fell as he gasped for air. The vampire calmly spoke—paying no attention to the man's dangling legs or his struggling arms. 

"I hate when people don't listen," he said softly, exhaling as his blank stare met the man's bloodshot eyes. "You should consider yourself lucky," Amari said, dropping the man to the floor as he turned around.

"If it weren't for that little girl you just threatened, you—and everyone involved—would've been hours dead." Damn bastard really threatened a little girl—and that reminded him.

"Speaking of which," Amari flashed once more, this time appearing directly in front of the struggling man. 

He swiftly delivered a kick, sending the man tumbling several meters across the dirt. The man rolled four times before crashing onto his back as he heaved for air. 

"Oh, relax, I was gentle." Amari sighed, then took his ass right back in the house. He had much better things to do than fuck around with some entitled pussies.

"Word of advice: Come back, and I'll bury you right there." He shut the door behind him.

He grimaced as the door closed. He needed more alcohol. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he heard Alanna coming down the stairs—and rather quickly at that. 

He released yet another sigh, heading toward the fridge to pull out a bottle of champagne. He damn sure needed some hope for what was coming.