Adrian leaned against the rough trunk of a giant maple. The branches of the mighty tree drooped slightly in the scorching Louisiana sun, hiding him in its shade. He adjusted the brown ball cap he wore and waited patiently.
Finally, Dr. Zeke Miller exited the structure. Adrian scrutinized Dr. Miller as the professor descended the brick steps of the University's Archeology Department. Miller's long brown hair tangled in the strap of his satchel as he slung it over his shoulder. His dark brown slacks and cream button-down shirt were rumpled and covered in dust. Adrian wondered if the man had slept in his clothes before attending to his lectures that day.
He snorted scornfully at the younger man's shabby appearance. Adrian had grown up with tidiness and organization pounded into him--sometimes literally. John insisted that all his soldiers, related or not, be clean cut, and wrinkle free. Not an easy task, but order was necessary in everything. Home, work, sex, war, every part of their considerably long lives required structure to keep the Madness at bay.
How can Father favor this undisciplined mess of a man? He's the exact opposite of everything John taught me to be! What a disgrace Miller is! Adrian thought. Contempt for the slothful professor gnawed viciously at his belly.
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He summoned a pair of his father's most deadly familiars. "Follow Zeke Miller. You know his scent. If you have the chance, strike. I don't care if you bite anyone else; do what you want in that regard. Make sure you hit Miller, though," he ordered the silent duo, their cold gazes a comfort. They would do anything he asked; without question, without hesitation. They personified loyalty at its finest.
He sent the first two off and summoned a third. "Follow them at a distance," he said, pointing to the retreating tails of the previous familiars. "Observe what goes on. If anything happens to those two, there’s an army of others waiting to dispatch their killers. Go, now, and report directly to me later. Don't bother John with this. Come to me," he commanded, less certain of the iron gleam in this familiar's icy stare.
Adrian left his place under the maple and slithered into a gloomy alley. He caught a cab at the next block and headed for the abandoned warehouse they used as a safe house. He wasn't needed at the campus any longer. The familiars would complete their directives, and Adrian would finally be free of the shadow the young professor cast.
He leaned back against the cracked leather of the cab's seat. Closing his eyes, he smiled softly. One way or another, Dr. Miller would not see another dawn.