Calvin's head throbbed as he awakened from the deep sleep Luke bestowed upon him. His throat was hoarse and his vision blurry. He attempted to stand, but fell against the dumpster. He felt as though his head was a fishbowl, swirling round and round. Definite concussion, he thought to himself.

Slowly, he was able to stand. He wiped his bloodied, broken nose on his sleeve and started walking down the road. His cell phone began to ring.

"Hello?" he said, answering it without looking at the caller ID.

"Did you do what I asked?" a deep, stern voice came from the other line.

"I got the shit beaten out of me," Calvin spat.

"So buy a change of pants. It doesn't matter to me what happened to you. I need that girl shaken to her core."

"I don't understand why you can't just go get them from the safe house they're living in. What was the point of figuring out where they were if you're not going to do anything about it?" Calvin asked. "Don't you need them for your sacrifice or something like that?"

"Samantha communicated with me last night that the sacrifice will take place in a fortnight when the next full moon shines bright in the sky. I could just keep them in captivity, yes, but playing with them is so much more fun," Jefferson replied.

"Enjoy your sadism. I'm going to the hospital. I'll send you the tab. Consider it payment for the theatrics that almost got me killed today," Calvin said.

Jefferson sighed into the phone loudly. "Fine. Come back to the school when you're finished. I might have more use for you." The call ended. Calvin coughed up blood and spat into bushes along the road. He checked himself into the emergency room and waited to be seen.

Back in the shelter, Darien was in the bathroom about to take a shower. He opened the medicine cabinet to grab some face wash, and saw a few stray matches laying beside the bottle. Thinking nothing of it, he showered.

When he was finished, he went to the kitchen to grab a snack. Liam was reading a book on the couch, but everyone else had turned in for the night. Darien opened the cabinet and grabbed a glass for water. It wasn't until he took a sip that he saw more matches, this time, inside his glass of water. He poured the water into the sink and turned to Liam.

"Do you guys not have a container for your matches? I keep finding them all over."

Liam looked perplexed. "We don't use singular matches. My grandpa stocked this place with matchbooks."

"Well someone must've brought some down here. There were some in the bathroom cabinet and now in my water glass," Darien laughed.

"Oh," Liam said, looking back to his book. "That's kinda weird."

"No biggie," Darien said. He went back to the counter and grabbed two slices of bread to make a sandwich. He spread some peanut butter on one slice, and raspberry jam on the other. Setting the knife in the sink, he walked back to his room where Bailey was waiting for him.

"Ooh, can I have a bite?" she asked eagerly.

Darien laughed and handed her half of the sandwich. "Hungry?"

She nodded, quickly devouring her half. Darien ate his half in silence, sitting against the wall. Bailey scooted closer to him and leaned her head against his arm. He was a bit too tall for her to rest her head on his shoulder. Darien looked down at her, smiling to himself, and put an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled closer into him.

"You smell really good," she said softly.

"Thank you?" Darien laughed.

"It's a compliment!" she replied.

Darien gazed deeply into her dark eyes and cupped her face with his hands. He pressed his lips gently against hers. Bailey kissed back, putting a hand on his chest. The room seemed to fade away the longer Darien kept his lips against hers. There was a gentle rhythm, and he found himself hopelessly lost in the moment.

Bailey pulled away with a smile. "Was that your first kiss?"

"That bad, huh?" Darien laughed, rubbing his neck as his cheeks turned red.

"No!" Bailey said quickly. "I just figured, since you've been on the streets since you were fifteen."

"How do you know I wasn't a total player in middle school?" he teased.

"I guess that's true. I didn't even consider that option," Bailey laughed.

"Nah, you're right. I've never been good with, um, feelings, so I always just avoided girls," he explained.

Bailey kneeled above Darien's legs and moved his hands to her hips. "Let me show you how it's done, then."

She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him passionately. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her as close as possible. She moved her lips to his neck and kissed down to his collarbone.

Darien's deepest primal instincts filled his mind and took control of his actions. He pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room, and pushed Bailey down on the bed. He put his hands on either side of her head and brought their lips together again. Bailey dragged her nails down his bare back, bringing him closer. He started kissing her neck and pulled her shirt collar, exposing her shoulders. He bit her soft skin, eliciting a moan.

"It was criminal to have you wandering the streets for eight years," Bailey sighed into his ear as he devoted his attention to her collarbone. She curled her fingers in his soft hair.

Darien pulled away. "Good thing I followed you from town, I guess," he smirked. His eyes were darkened with desire as he studied the girl beneath him. Bailey grabbed at his face, trying to bring his lips back to hers.

"Mm, what's the magic word?" he asked, kissing her temple.

"Please," Bailey whispered into his ear.

Darien smirked. "Good girl," he said as he kissed her again.

As all of this was going down, Luke was tossing and turning in bed. Dreams of his grandmother filled his mind and he couldn't shake them. He sat up, sweat beading on his forehead.

"No sleep for me, then," he said to himself.

He leaned his head back against the wall and took some breaths to try and lower his heart rate. He stared at the ceiling and lost himself in his thoughts.

"Luke?"

Snapping back to reality, Luke looked at who said his name. To his horror, his grandmother was standing beside his bed. Her flesh was mottled and grey, starting to decompose. Her cheeks and eyes were sunken and her frame was skeletal.

"You're not really here," Luke said.

"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be? I'm your grandmother. Give me a kiss, sweetie," she said reaching out for his face.

"You're dead. You're not here," Luke said and moved his arm to push her hand away, but as soon as he touched her, she started to crumble apart.

"How could you do this to me?!" she shrieked as she rapidly decayed into dust.

Luke leaned forward, looking at the floor, anticipating a pile of his grandmother's ashes. However, nothing was on the floor, to his relief. Luke slid off the bed and wrapped a blanket around his bare torso. He made his way down the hall to Macy's room. He knocked on the door.

"Come in," came Macy's sleepy voice.

Luke pushed the door open and walked over to the bed, laying down beside her.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Macy asked, sitting up slightly.

"I saw my grandmother. She was in my room, decaying to dust," he whispered, trying to keep his voice from quivering.

Macy wrapped her arms around Luke and held him tightly. "I thought getting rid of the board was gonna put an end to these things."

Luke nodded silently and pulled Macy closer and covered her with his blanket. Macy stroked his hair and rested her head on his bare chest. Luke's breathing slowed as he drifted to sleep. Macy closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept away into dreamland.