Jet frowned. Tyler had taken off without permission. One moment he had been there and the next he was gone. Jet searched for his presence but it was hidden. He could sense Tristan walking slowly back towards the building slowly, but the boy’s father was nowhere to be seen. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the darkening sky outside. It was going to be a stormy day. He turned back to the map, his expression mirroring the sky. Alice was nearly done in Japan. He had been monitoring her progress from the collar. She had tried to pull it off. Someone was following her and she didn’t realise. Jet growled, but he wasn’t bothered enough to warn her. He projected and sensed the presence tracking her. Tyler. Disobedient little shit.
Frustrated, Jet punched Russia, the little white flags stabbing into his fist. His glamour and the substance beneath parted to accommodate them. How was he supposed to win this war, when his ranks were fighting among themselves? The force of his blow snapped the table that bore the map like a matchstick. Pulling the flags out of his fist, Jet told one of the guards to go get a new table.
The guard scurried away to get a new table, returning in less than a minute with one. He hurried around, picking up spilled flags and laid out the map on the new surface. Jet threw the broken segments of table out of the window, trying to find a way of venting his frustration without destroying the rest of the building.
Tristan dodged the flying chunks of table and seriously considered not going back at all. But... he had already come this far with the demons. Certain that the angels would never accept him into their ranks after having killed so many angels, he jumped into the air, taking off, his wings growing more certain with every flight. He rocketed up to the thirtieth floor and ducked as the last part of the table was flung out of the window.
‘You’re back then.’ Jet stated, looking at the teenager with unhidden irritation, though somehow Tristan could tell the anger was not directed at him. The demon paced and swore loudly, clearly seeing something he did not like. He stopped dead still mid step, his mouth hanging open. Tristan was tempted to ask, but didn’t think it would be a good idea to interrupt. He bit his lip and cringed at Jet turned his coal black eyes, cold with fury, towards him. ‘You... I have to go sort something out.’ Jet’s voice shook with intensity. He strode over to Tristan and formed silver on the end of his fingers. The silver grew into strands and writhed around hungrily.
‘What are you doing?’ The teenager asked.
‘You are unfortunately in control til I get back, kid. This silver will link me to you, I will see all you see and I will be able to give orders through you. If they try anything funny,’ Jet indicated to the guards that were now wearing incredulous expressions, ‘throw them out of the window or something. They shouldn’t try anything, they should know better than to pick a fight with me. But... just in case.’ The silver was wrapping itself around Tristan’s wrist, cutting off to form a clasp-less bracelet.
Without another word, Jet took off, leaving New York behind. Bored of flying, Jet used more energy than the clouds could give him to teleport straight to Alice. Tyler was on top of her and this close to them, all that he saw through the collar was only intensified.
‘Tyler.’ Jet said, his voice loud, clear and commanding. He stopped, shocked. Jet strode over to the degenerate and grabbed him by the neck, throwing him against the alley wall. He didn’t check on Alice, instead pinning Tyler to the wall with his power. ‘I never gave you permission to leave, did I?’ Jet asked. Gulping, Tyler shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t think so. So, uh, what exactly, made you think you could come out here?’ Tyler couldn’t answer. ‘You know, I might have forgiven it if you were doing something useful! But coming out here to have some fun with your girlfriend?’ Jet snarled and restricted Tyler’s breathing. He could hear Alice say something, but he wasn’t listening, bent on punishing the disobedient demon.
‘Never. Disobey. Me. Again.’ Jet roared, punching Tyler hard enough to break the demon’s body until it was limp in his distant grasp. Jet let him fall to the floor and turned away, feeling a little better.