I. Teaser

**LIGHT LANGUAGE, MENTION OF ALCOHOL, ADULT SETTING, MENTION OF VIOLENCE, MENTION OF BEHAVIOUR CAUSED BY ILLEGAL SUBSTANCE

*please let me know if I should take this down. just blowing off a but of creative steam

Edit: <3 holy cats, thank you for the feature! <3

Xylia idly stirred her drink, pointed chin resting on the heel of her hand. Her twin brother, Xavier, watched the movement of her hand. She didn't do well with inactivity, which he well knew even as he had bid her to take some r&r time.

"Xy!" Xavier had shouted four hours ago in a small apartment eight blocks away from where they currently sat.

Xylia had been in the process of smashing every breakable object in the house she'd been kept locked up in for the last month. Their employers had ordered them to sit still. Two days in and she had been prowling the rooms like a caged wild animal. A week and she'd become unhealthily attached to the burner their employers used to them for jobs. Another three days and she'd become an absolute nightmare to be around. Then she had finally started breaking things. Meanwhile, Xavier was given the orders to keep her inside. 'Damn nightmarish task,' he had commented before the line went dead.

"What?" Xylia had shouted back, throwing another plate at the wall.

Xylia like the way glass sounded when it broke. The tinkling of the wreckage was like bells screaming. It soothed her raw nerves, but, like a junkie in desperate need of a fix, the hit didn't last long enough. So she'd continued to break things. If she got her hands on their employers she'd delight in breaking them. Slowly. She would start with the fingers, maybe the ribs next...

"Jesus, Xy," Xavier declared, running his hand through artfully mussed hair as he surveyed the damage. "To rot with the ordere, we are going out. Get dressed!"

"You kno-" Xylia tried to argue, selecting another dish, a mug this time.

"Either get dressed or I'm going to drag you out of here as you are," Xavier cut her off with a growl.

Xylia looked down at her sweats, knowing her moonlight hair was and absolute nest, and shuddered at the thought. She had her pride after all, so she went into the bathroom to do damage control on her appearance. Twenty minutes later, she was dolled up, and secretly armed with her knives. She gave Xavier a cold glare that a weaker man would have soiled himself to be on the receiving end of, and grabbed her coat.

Xylia's nerves were still raw. The crowd of the busy bar wasn't helping, and she also hadn't touched her drink the entire time. Xavier had already downed four mixed drinks and gotten three women's and two men's numbers. Xylia had all but growled at the two men that had plucked up the courage to speak to her.

Xavier was the personality of the duo, always surrounded by a flock of irers. Always the playboy. Xylia was the reaction, a force to be reckoned with and very much the antisocial of the two. Xylia was dangerous, lethal outright. Xavier was also dangerous in his own right, but they're employers primarily used him as a leash for his sister to keep collateral damage to a minimum.

"Hello pre'y lady," an overly friendly drunk man slurred at Xylia. "Y' should ditch thi' pre'y boy for a man."

"You should get out of here my man," Xavier suggested with a friendly laugh. "I'm afraid my sister has just been dumped and is currently on a serious man hater streak."

Xylia shot Xavier a dirty look, but kept her mouth shut.

"Wa'n't talkin' to you," the man slurred. "Fu-"

"Finish that sentence, sir, and you'll be removed from your pinky finger," Xylia cut in, one hand still stirring her drink and the other ing her head.

Before any other action could be taken, the burner cell rang.

Xylia snatched it from Xavier's hand before he could react and dashed outside with him tight on her heels. The man that had been harassing her stood by their now empty seats, confused to see the empty table where they had sat just moments ago.

"You better have a job for me, I am going mad!" She snarled into the phone.

"Get in the car, Xylia, " the gentle male voice instructed her as a white work van pulled up behind the bar where they now stood.

Xylia gave Xavier a look. Eight years and this was the first time they'd been given more than some numbers, a name, or a deadline. Neither of them had ever personally met their employers. They'd been bailed out of their high security prisons, each finding an envelope in their possessions and burner phones, and then the calls came. Calls, files, and untraceable bank statements.

"Where are we going?" Xylia asked, her instincts growling.

"The van leaves in two minutes," the voice replied, calm as ever. "If you both don't leave with it, you both go to a much worse place than the ones I got you out of."

The line went dead.

With one last look at her brother, Xylia climbed into the van. Cursing, Xavier followed.