The carriage dropped Dark and Xilef off a few blocks away from the nightclub, X Amani. The music was muffled from the distance, but it still vibrated the ground with its primal beat.

There weren't many people this far out in the City, but Dark still put his hood up to conceal his face. He could never be too careful.

He glanced at Xilef, meeting his eyes, and they shared a nod.

"We're near the club," Dark said to his earpiece. Xilef spun around slowly, searching his surroundings for Mark's aura.

"I've got access to the cameras in the area," said Eyes through the device. "No sign of them yet."

"They could be inside," Dark mumbled under his breath.

Xilef tugged on Dark's cloak. He perked up.

"Antinstine," said Xilef, eyes snapping from aura to aura. He looked like a robot in search of its target. "I can't see his aura, but—I can feel it."

Dark's breaths came out shallow. "And Mark's?"

Xilef's brows furrowed, and he focused harder. After a moment, he shook his head.

"Not yet," he muttered. "Odd..."

Mark's aura was strong, wild... bright like a wildfire. Xilef told Dark so the first time he felt his presence through Eyes' screen. And if Xilef could sense Antinstine's aura, but couldn't sense Mark's... it meant something was wrong.

Dark's heart pounded in his chest. He was beginning to regret coming out here.

"Come on," breathed Xilef, motioning the other to follow. "It's coming from here."

Dark gave one last sweep of their surroundings before following after him. They slipped into a dark alleyway. It felt like a maze, with its twists and turns and jutting angles. Cold and darkness clung to them; the alleyway was so narrow that the wet brick brushed up against them, dirtying their clothes.

A faint light glowed up ahead.

Xilef stopped, and he pressed his side into the cold brick, eyes flitting back and forth. Dark watched him, silent.

Xilef reached a hand back. "Turn off your earpiece," he breathed.

Dark nodded. "Going offline," he said to it quickly, then turned it off and stowed it in his pocket. Xilef did the same.

"Any sign of Mark?" Dark whispered.

Xilef lingered, looking at the auras, and pursed his lips. "There's three people," he said quietly. "Antinstine, a woman, and... I'm not sure." He glanced over his shoulder. "I sense Mark, but his aura... it isn't the same."

Dark clenched his fists under his cloak. Guilt crawled up his throat.

"It's too tame," continued Xilef, beginning to walk forward as slow as he could, careful not to make a sound. Dark lowered his hood and followed suit. "It's what I sense in killers. Cold-blooded ones."

Dark swallowed. He felt like he was to blame for that.

They approached the light but hung back in the shadows, hiding behind miscellaneous junk in the alleyway. The light opened up into a large, empty street, with tall buildings that lined it like a cage.

In a way, it looked like a stadium.

In the middle stood the three people. Mark with a woman at his side, and Antinstine across from them. Dark's heart pumped, and his breaths went shallow; he had to grip onto the brick wall to contain himself.

He couldn't stand to look at Antinstine after knowing what he did to Mark.

Xilef relaxed into the wall, watching through calm, calculated eyes.

"Well, we made it," he whispered, the shine dulling in his gaze. "Found out what you want to do yet?"

Dark's jaw clenched, and he glared at Xilef through the corner of his eye. Now was not the time.

Before he could snap at him, Mark's voice rang out through the street with such confidence that it startled Dark. His eyes snapped onto the three of them.

"Scarlet," Viper said, addressing the woman. "Let go of me, will you?"

Scarlet smiled, and she obeyed, sliding her arms away from Mark's waist. He didn't return the smile; the tingles in his mouth had become throbbing pains.

He rose a brow at Antinstine, breaths steady.

"Well?" he breathed.

From the alleyway, Dark's eyes widened. He glanced at Xilef, and his brows were shot up.

Antinstine hummed, and he motioned Mark over with a finger. Mark obeyed, and Anti grabbed his shoulders. Turned him around. He snaked his arms around his neck, then rested his head next to Mark's; his lips pressed against his ear. Mark could even hear his steady breaths—feel them against his neck.

Dark's blood boiled.

Antinstine glanced at Scarlet's dazed figure, then at Mark, his lashes fluttering.

"Tell her to stand in front of us," he breathed in his ear.

Mark took a deep breath, his body thrumming; Antinstine's body was flush against his back, burning. This wasn't as exciting as his usual kills—this was too sophisticated—but in a way, it was invigorating. Different.

Was this how Evolveds killed? he thought. With their hands, but never touching... superior, even in death?

Viper gazed at Scarlet, his jaw throbbing with heat.

"Scarlet," he breathed, shifting under Antinstine's embrace. "Stand in front of me."

Scarlet met his eyes, swept her hair behind her ear, and obeyed. The click of her heels echoed in the street.

"Now..." crooned Antinstine, running his thumb along Mark's collarbone. "Have her use this."

His hand slid past Mark's chest; he reached into his own pocket and slid out a knife, the blade glinting under the lights. He chucked it forward, and it clattered and slid across the floor. It bumped against Scarlet's heel.

Antinstine wrapped his arms around Mark's neck again, never breaking the closeness between them. He tilted his head.

"Tell her to pick it up."

Mark's heart raced, and he gazed at the knife on the ground. It glinted menacingly.

His hands itched to use it himself.

His eyes flicked onto Scarlet's.

"Pick up the knife," he said quietly.

Dark watched, his face pale and mind spinning. He knew Antinstine experimented on Mark—knew from Ethan and Konray that he'd been tortured, drowned in pain... but he didn't know the experiments worked.

His blood ran cold.

The Mark he was looking at wasn't human.

He had told Mark to act like an Evolved—to slip into the character of Viper—but even he was convinced that he was something else now. Xilef proved it when he said Mark's aura was different.

What happened to you? Dark thought, his heart aching. He clutched at the wall. What did Antinstine do to you?

Scarlet gazed down at the knife for a moment, her face blank. Mark could sense her fighting under his spell—trying to escape—realizing what they were going to do to her.

The smell of smoke hissed in the air. Embers began to glow from Scarlet's hands.

Mark swallowed, his throat tight and throbbing with pain.

"Pick it up," he ordered.

The embers faded, and Scarlet leaned down. She still fought, tremors running down her body—but her hand wrapped around the handle, and she picked up the knife.

Mark could feel Antinstine's smirk against his neck.

"Stab her hand," he sang, his eyes glittering with murderous delight. It had Mark shuddering.

As much as he enjoyed killing—watching his prey struggle and fight and beg for life—he wasn't much for torture. He liked things quick, sadistic, fun.

But when Mark opened his mouth, and the awful calm washed over him, he could suddenly see the appeal. He could see the fight in Scarlet's eyes now—the same look he got before he finished off his victims. The life before it left them.

"Stab your hand," he said, as if he were in a casual conversation.

Scarlet's brows struggled to rise, and her lips trembled into a frown; it was like her face had been frozen, and she couldn't get any expressions through. The life and the panic was brighter in her eyes now, and every movement of hers was jittery.

As hard as she tried to resist, she couldn't escape the spell.

"Go on," Mark said, his breaths going shallow. "Stab it."

Scarlet rose the knife, quivered, then drove the blade into her hand. Blood sprayed the floor. Scarlet tried to scream, but the sound was caught in her throat.

Mark took a deep breath, gazing at the knife. Scarlet's blood dripped down the blade, elegant and red. It collected into a shimmering pool on the ground.

Mark's heart fluttered; he smiled through the pain in his mouth.

"Pull it out," he blurted. He was surprised with his own eagerness.

Scarlet struggled again, fighting the spell, but she lost. Her knuckles went white around the handle. She pulled the blade out. Blood splattered to the floor.

Mark's nostrils flared, the metallic scent sending his mind spinning.

Antinstine hummed at Mark's ear, drumming his fingers against his chest. "How about the other hand?" he suggested.

Mark glanced over his shoulder, nose nearly brushing against Antinstine's. A shudder ran up his spine.

He turned back to Scarlet and gazed at her, a dark look crossing his face.

"Your arm," he said instead. His mouth grew hot, and the throbbing grew worse. His tongue felt wet. "Stab it."

Scarlet trembled, and she rose the knife to the sky. Tears pricked her eyes.

"Wait," Mark said. Scarlet stopped. "Use your other hand."

Scarlet looked at him with wide eyes, her gaze begging. But her body moved against her will—she held the knife in her stabbed hand. Gripped it tight. Blood slipped down the blade. Mark knew it hurt.

"Good," he breathed. He leaned into Antinstine in the slightest—made sure he was still enjoying himself—then continued. "Now stab your arm."

Scarlet struggled to shake her head, her throat quivering as she swallowed. She rose the knife—blood dripped down it in a glittering arch—wavered for a moment—then drove the knife into her arm.

Tears rolled down her face. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

"Deeper," Mark ordered, eyeing the blade.

Scarlet's hands trembled. With a whimper, she drove the knife deeper into her arm. The muscle gave and squelched under it; blood pulsed out and flowed down her arm, wet. It ran down each of her fingers like a spiderweb, then dripped to the floor to join the other pool of blood.

Mark's mind sang in delight, but before he could revel in the feeling, his mouth throbbed. The wet in his mouth grew thicker, and something warm dripped past his lips and down his chin. His heartbeat quickened; lashes fluttered.

He rose a hand to his mouth, and when he pulled away, his fingers dripped with red. His eyes widened. Antinstine blinked, and he slid off Mark's shoulders and faced him, still close. Concern laced his brows—an emotion unlike him.

"Your mouth..." he breathed, searching his face. Mark stuck his fingers in his mouth and pulled them out. More blood. His breaths grew shallow.

"I'm fine," he said, wiping his fingers on his shirt. He glanced at Scarlet. "Let's focus on her."

Antinstine's eyes glazed in the slightest, and Mark's mouth gave a sharp pang. He gave an order without even realizing.

The more he used the ability, he realized, the more it hurt. The more he bled.

He had to be careful with his wording.

Antinstine eyed Mark for a moment, then glanced back at Scarlet.

She was beginning to break out of the spell.

In the alleyway, Dark stirred. He could tell things were starting to get out of hand.

Xilef leaned forward and grabbed Dark's shoulder, forcing him to look at him. His eyes were intense. "If anything happens," he said, "Antinstine will kill her."

Dark huffed through his nose, his brows furrowed. He didn't like knowing Anti would protect Mark.

"His mouth..." Dark muttered, glaring at the scene before them. "It's bleeding because of the ability..."

His mind spun. He began to know exactly what was happening.

"Side effect..." Antinstine whispered, face falling. He fought against Mark's spell, focusing on him instead of Scarlet.

Mark swallowed blood, smothering a cough in his hand. "What?" he said.

"It's a side effect," Antinstine repeated, louder.

Mark's mouth welled with heat, and he put a hand to his mouth. Blood ran through his fingers, down his chin, and to the floor. He gazed up at Antinstine, eyes alight.

"How do we fix it?" he said through his hand. Blood dripped down his mouth as he spoke.

Scarlet's hand twitched over the knife handle.

Antinstine swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing; his eyes glazed in the slightest, but the fight in his gaze was bright.

Whatever the answer was, he was trying hard not to answer.

"Let's get this over with first," said Anti, gazing at Scarlet. Her brows had furrowed, teeth bared into a snarl. She was still frozen in place, but the embers glowed in her hands brighter.

Dark watched as Mark stepped back from the other two, clutching at his mouth as if it'd help the bleeding. There. There was the Mark he knew. It was as if he were breaking out of his own spell—that silvertongue ability had a mind of its own.

Dark stared at Mark trembling, bleeding, suffering under the side effects, and his eyes widened as an idea sparked in his head.

Side effects... he thought, the words ringing in his ears.

Antinstine's hands sparked to life with electricity, and he walked towards Scarlet, eyes half-lidded. He yanked the knife out of her arm. The blade glowed blue under his hold.

Scarlet's eyes widened.

"One question," said Antinstine, gazing over his shoulder at Mark. He couldn't help but smirk. "What's the best way to kill her—if I want her to taste good?"

Mark shuddered as more blood spilled from his mouth, but the question made him feel good. He shakily smiled through the pain.

"Too late," he said through a mouthful of blood. "She's too stressed. Meat's already sour."

Antinstine rose a brow, and Mark pointed with a bloody hand.

"Heart," he said finally. "Quicker the better."

Antinstine hummed, and he gazed at Scarlet, gripping the knife tighter. The sparks went haywire, striking against the blade.

"It was fun while it lasted," he crooned, sneering at the red glow of her eyes. "Goodnight, Scarlet."

He drove the knife through her heart, and her blood glowed blue under Antinstine's power. Sparks laced through her veins—fizzed about her body like crawling spiders—and she sagged against the blade.

Antinstine huffed, pulled away, and her body dropped to the floor with a thud. He shook the sparks from his hands—almost urgently, like he needed them gone—and walked towards Mark.

"I'll have my guards take care of her," he said. He grabbed Mark by the shoulder and led him back towards the backdoor of the club. "We need Syl and Ox."

Mark stumbled along, holding his mouth in his hands. Blood dripped past his fingers and made a trail as they went.

Antinstine opened the door, and when Mark glanced over his shoulder, he didn't just see Scarlet's body slumped on the floor.

Two men stepped out of the shadows, examining the body.

Dark looked up and met eyes with Mark.

His eyes widened, but Antinstine pulled him inside, and the door shut with a clang. The music pounded away any thoughts in his head, and the bass rattled his body until he was stunned.

Antinstine pulled him through the dancing bodies and lights. Mark couldn't get Dark out of his head.

Were they there the whole time?

Cold blew across his face, and he blinked, meeting the night sky and the tall buildings. The limo slid up fast, and Antinstine dragged him inside.

The door shut, lights dimmed, and they drove back to the mansion, leaving the music, the lights, and the chaos of the city.

Mark stared at Antinstine, blinking through blurriness—and he suddenly realized how lightheaded he was. His mind throbbed, then ached—and then the world spun around him in a swirl of lights and shadows.

Mark swayed in his seat—caught Antinstine's eyes—he was saying something... looked disappointed but maybe pleased, too...

His brows furrowed, trying to focus on what Anti was saying, but his vision closed around him, the world lurched, and everything went black.

Huehue, I have plans >:)) Have any theories? I'd love to hear them 😏

Thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful day!

Love, Kass xoxo