Tessa's place was way too close to Sean's.
Like, walking distance close.
Same gated development vibe. Same manicured hedges. Same "if you breathe too loudly, someone files an HOA complaint" energy. Which meant if her new hobby was mind-controlling boys, she'd picked a hunting ground where everyone's parents were rich enough to make it someone else's problem—until it wasn't.
I watched from the dark across the street as she walked up to her front door with Kane trailing beside her like an obedient shadow. She opened the door, stepped inside, and for a second her shoulders sagged, just barely, like she'd been holding herself together on adrenaline and performance.
She looked into the empty house and disappointment flickered across her face.
No parents. No family. No warmth. Just silence and expensive furniture.
Then she turned toward Kane.
"Come inside with me," she said.
It wasn't romantic. It wasn't even normal. It was the same tone you use when you tell a dog to follow you so you don't feel alone in a big house.
Kane's phone rang.
He didn't even reach for it.
He just stood there, waiting for instructions.
That right there confirmed what I'd already suspected: he wasn't "in love." He was under command.
Tessa glanced at the phone like it was an annoyance. She knew exactly who it was. Kane's parents. Worried. Calling again and again. Probably about to escalate to police if he didn't come home soon.
And Tessa… couldn't let him go.
Because being alone was scarier than being wrong.
I'd seen that before.
"Kane," she said, voice sharp, "hang up and turn off your phone."
He pulled it out immediately, ended the call, and powered it down without hesitation.
That should've been my cue to back off and tell Daniel and the Ancient One, Hey, there's a Hydra-flavored Kilgrave serum being tested on rich teenagers.
But my brain did the thing it always does when I feel danger near my mother:
It got selfish.
I didn't want a report. I didn't want a slow response. I wanted answers now.
So I moved.
Not loud. Not dramatic. No "I am vengeance" nonsense. I let magic run through my new wand like breath and used the one advantage this universe kept giving me: reality wasn't as solid as people thought.
I slipped across the street and up to the house as black smoke.
It wasn't a transformation the way a shapeshifter does it. It was magic—body loosened, weight redistributed, form blurred into controlled shadow. The spell always left my stomach uneasy afterward, like I'd cheated my own biology. But it worked.
I phased in through a crack in the doorway before the security system could decide whether to scream about it.
And then I spoke from behind them.
"I think it's better if you let him go home," I said calmly. "Otherwise you're going to have police involved when his parents file a missing persons report."
Tessa froze.
Slowly—too slowly—she turned.
Her eyes found the doorway, and she went pale. Her pupils widened like she was staring at a monster from a childhood nightmare. For a second, I almost felt bad.
Almost.
I was wrapped in smoke, hooded by shadow, face fully obscured. No height. No details. Just a silhouette that didn't belong in her clean, perfect home.
Her first instinct was to run.
I could see it in her knees, in the tension in her shoulders. That animal panic.
Then she remembered she had a new toy.
And she grabbed Kane—positioned behind him—using him as a shield like he was furniture.
"You—who are you?" she demanded, voice shaking.
I didn't answer.
I was done with polite conversation.
"Where does your ability come from?" I asked.
No time for games.
Tessa swallowed hard. "I don't know what you're talking about. If you don't leave my house right now, I'll call the police!"
Wrong answer.
I raised my wand.
"Petrificus Totalus."
White light snapped across the room and hit Kane squarely. His entire body locked rigid instantly. His arms slammed to his sides. His expression froze mid-blank. Then he toppled backward like a tree cut at the base and hit the floor with a heavy thump.
Tessa screamed.
"What did you do to him?!" she shrieked, backing away, hands shaking. "Leave! Get away from me! Get out of my house! I order you to leave!"
The compulsion hit like a wave.
That same sickening pressure I'd felt in the restaurant. Like invisible hands trying to grip my muscles, trying to pull my thoughts into a single command: obey.
Occlumency.
My mental walls slammed into place—cold iron doors, locked from the inside. The compulsion scraped against them and slid off, frustrated.
Tessa's face twisted as she realized nothing was happening.
She tried again, louder. "LEAVE!"
Again, nothing.
She looked genuinely terrified now. Not "rich girl annoyed." Actual fear—because for the first time since she'd taken that serum, she'd met someone she couldn't control.
Finally, her panic collapsed into something smaller.
Her back hit the wall, and she sank slightly, like her bones had decided to stop pretending.
"Please," she whispered. "Please don't hurt me."
My voice stayed flat. Cold was easier than rage. Rage was messy.
"Tell me where your ability came from," I said. "Tell the truth, and you'll be safe. And Kane lives."
Her lips trembled. "I… I…"
She hesitated.
I hated what I did next. Truly.
But I needed speed, and she needed consequences.
I flicked my wand.
A vase on a nearby table exploded into ceramic shards. It wasn't a lethal spell—just force directed at an object—but the sound and spray were enough to make her flinch and scream, arms flying up to protect her face.
"I'll tell you one last time," I said, steady. "Tell me how you got this ability. If you lie, I stay. If you keep stalling, I wait here until your father comes home, and I ask him directly."
I paused, letting the threat settle.
God, I hate threatening teenagers.
There's no satisfaction in it. Just necessity.
Tessa broke.
She started talking in a rush, words tripping over each other.
"I—I took it," she sobbed. "From my father's company. I visited once, and I found files on his computer. The password was my mother's birthday—he always uses it, I knew it, I—I shouldn't have looked—"
She wiped her face with trembling hands, voice cracking. "There was a serum. He had it stored in a lab. I didn't want to do this! I just… I just wanted people to notice me. I just wanted someone to stay. And Angela kept trying to steal Kane and I—" She swallowed. "I couldn't resist using it."
So.
Not magic training.
Not inheritance.
A serum.
My stomach turned.
This wasn't one monster returning.
This was a pipeline.
"Where is your father's company?" I asked.
Her eyes went wide with fear. "No! No, you can't hurt him—please!"
I stepped closer, letting the smoke around me tighten, making my silhouette darker and more inhuman than it really was. Not because I wanted to scare her. Because fear was the only language she was speaking right now.
"If I wanted to hurt your father," I said quietly, "you wouldn't be spared either."
Her breathing hitched.
"I'm not here for revenge," I continued. "I'm here for the serum. Tell me where the company is, and I leave you and your family alone. Otherwise, I wait. And your father answers instead."
Tessa stared at me, tears shaking loose again.
Then she whispered, defeated:
"My father… my father is the chief researcher at Technology Pioneers."
Technology Pioneers.
My brain flipped through what I knew: mid-sized tech company, not a household name, not a Stark-level titan, not even Hammer-level clown show. The kind of company that shouldn't be producing mind-control serums.
Unless they weren't the ones actually driving it.
Unless they were a shell.
A subcontractor.
A Hydra laundromat with a lab coat.
I held her gaze through the smoke.
"I hope you're telling the truth," I said. "If you're not, I'll be back. But if you are… we never meet again."
I turned toward the door, then paused.
"And Tessa," I added, voice low, "you are not going to tell anyone about tonight. Anyone. I think you understand."
She nodded frantically.
I didn't wait for more.
The smoke swirled, and I drifted through the open doorway into the night.
Behind me, Tessa slid down the wall and sobbed, shaking. Kane remained frozen on the floor like a statue nobody wanted.
I felt a flicker of guilt.
Then I crushed it down.
Loose ends could wait.
If she warned her father, I'd lose the trail.
I moved fast.
I pulled out my phone while walking and looked up Technology Pioneers' address. Found it. Memorized it. Forced my mind to lock it in like a spell.
Twenty minutes later, a taxi dropped me off one block away.
I paid, stepped out, and looked up at the building.
Sleek glass-and-steel corporate architecture, all clean lines and silent money. It screamed legitimacy the way a well-made mask screams innocence. Bright lobby lights. Security cameras. A logo that looked like it had been designed by someone who hated fun.
"Sure you are," I muttered.
I stood there a moment longer, letting my breathing settle.
Here was the real question—the one that mattered more than Tessa, more than Kane, more than the party drama:
Was Kilgrave truly dead?
If he was dead and this was just a company trying to replicate him… that was bad, but manageable. A program. A supply chain. A threat you could cut at the roots.
But if he was alive…
If his body had been recovered. If he'd been kept in a lab. If "Hydra stole samples" had turned into "Hydra rebuilt the monster"…
Then I wasn't here to steal data.
I was here to kill him again.
Permanently.
I tightened my grip on my wand inside my sleeve, then whispered:
"Disillusionment."
Cold washed over me as my outline blurred and vanished into the night.
I took one last look at the building's glass face—reflecting the city like it was trying to pretend it was part of it—and stepped forward.
Time to do some breaking and entering.
Corporate espionage.
Just another Tuesday.