As Billy's home came into view, Raizel cast a g the elder beside him and, with a casual nod, sent the man off. The elder bowed deeply before scurrying away.

  Now alone, Raizel strode toward the house, his usual graceful steps marred by the unfivable betrayal of mud sug at his shoes.

  He paused. Looked down.

  …This is bad.

  A sigh escaped him, a mild irritatiohe state of his footwear. But there was n baow.

  Reag the front door, Raizel rang the bell, his fingers barely exerting any force, yet the chime echoed.

  The door swung open, revealing Rachel Bck.

  She blinked.

  Raizel blinked back.

  Rachel felt a strange pull—an odd mix of curiosity and a vague warning that her brain definitely wasn't equipped to process. Her instincts screamed at her, but unfortunately for her self-preservation, Raizel's fabsp;was very distrag.

  Somewhere deep in her DNA, something was stirring—w overtime, trying to kick her into awareness.

  But Rachel, still too caught up in staring, fot all about basic safety measures.

  Raizel, meanwhile, took this entirely in stride. "Is Billy home?" he asked, voice smooth, polite, and not at all ed about how Rachel's brain seemed to be buffering.

  Rachel, snapping back to reality (sort of), fumbled with her response. "Uh—No! I mean—he's not here right now," she stammered, internally cursing herself for sounding like a plete fool.

  Raizel was… displeased. Not at Rachel's rea—but at Billy's absence. He had walked through mud for this. Well that was his irritation.

  Still, he kept his expression calm. "May I wait inside?"

  Rachel, already mentally writing off every self-defense lecture her father had ever given her, nodded. "Y-Yeah, of course," she said, stepping aside to let the mysterious, dangerously handsome stranger into her home.

  Raizel walked in, his presence shifting the very atmosphere of the house. Rachel should have questioned her own choices, but instead, she simply rushed to the kit, grabbed the phone, and called her father.

  The line rang.

  Then—

  "Hello?"

  Rachel straightened. "Um, Dad, there's someoo see you."

  Billy paused. "Oh? Who is it?"

  Rachel, suddenly realizing she had never asked for a name (fantastibsp;job, Rachel), felt her face heat up. "Uh… well… he didn't say his name, but he's really…" she hesitated, "uh… striking."

  There was a beat of silence.

  "…Striking?" Billy repeated, his dad-seingling aggressively. "What do you mean?"

  Rachel ged. Wrong word choice.

  Trying to not sound like she had invited a serial killer inside, she scrambled. "I-I don't know, Dad! He's just… different. I think he's fn?"

  Billy's tripled. "Rachel. Is everything okay?" His tone sharpened. "Give him the phone."

  Rachel bit her lip, gng toward Raizel, who was… sitting on the sofa. pletely at ease. And—oh. Oh. He was already looking at her.

  Right. Because of course he had been eavesdropping.

  A polite but pointed stare met hers.

  Feeling pletely out of her depth, Rachel relutly extehe phone. "Um… Dad wants to talk to you," she said, her smile nervous.

  Raizel accepted it with his usual calm. "Hello, Billy."

  Billy immediately cut to the chase. "Who are you?"

  Raizel response?

  simply said, "You'll know when you return home."

  And then, with zero warning, he hung up.

  Rachel blinked. "…Did you just—"

  Before she could finish her sentence, Raizel's glowing red eyes met hers.

  A split sed ter, her thoughts blurred.

  Her sciousness dulled.

  And with absolutely ance, Rachel Bck fell under his trol.

  ------------

  As Raizel tinued waiting in the hall, the sound of approag vehicles be heard. A police car pulled up outside Billy's house, followed by a truo sirens.

  Raizel's gaze moved toward the entrance.

  Billy had arrived, helped out of the truck by Jacob. Several officers stepped out as well. Raizel heir expressions—tense, wary, and far too serious for his liking.

  Then—

  Click.

  Charlie Swan raised a gun at him.

  …Huh.

  That was a first.

  Well.

  't be helped.

  His eyes glowed red.

  "Charlie," Raizel said simply, "please take your friend and leave."

  Charlie blinked.

  Then, without hesitation, he lowered the gun, turned around, a, as if this were the most natural course of a.

  The other officers followed suit.

  Billy could not believe what he was seeing.

  "What—Charlie?! What the hell—"

  But Charlie was already climbing bato the police car, his mind kinda bnk. The other men followed, as though Raizel had casually informed them this is not your se, kindly leave this stage.

  Billy's stomach dropped.

  His st line of defense had walked away.

  His hands gripped the wheelchair's arms tightly.

  Theuro Jacob.

  And saw the anger burning in his son's eyes.

  Jacob issed.

  If Billy hadn't been holding onto his arm, the boy would've already lunged at Raizel, demanding—

  "Where is my sister?!"

  Well.

  That would have been his rea.

  But unfortunately for Jacob, he locked eyes with Raizel.

  And just like that—

  Gone.

  Jacob's eyes gzed over, his expression going pletely bnk. His teance sed as his mind fell under Raizel's trol.

  Seeing this, Billy felt he lost his soul.

  His son, who had been seds away from throwing a punow stood weirdly still.

  "What—Jacob?" Billy's voice wavered. "Jacob!"

  No response.

  Billy shook his son's arm.

  Nothing.

  Pure panic.

  And in a st-ditch effort—he spped Jacob.

  Smack.

  Jacob did not react.

  Billy's breathing turned shallow.

  Desperate, he wheeled himself forward, feeling more helpless than ever as Jacob, still dazed, began pushing him toward the hall.

  Towards him.

  Raizel was waiting, standing in the same spot, utterly unbothered.

  Billy's stomach ed.

  And then—Raizel's gaze nded on him.

  His eyes were red.

  Oh.

  This was bad.

  Really bad.

  Raizel regarded him for a moment, then, in the calmest, most ulingly polite voice, said—

  "Hello, Billy."