by Sariah Skye
“Any of you know her?” I asked, pointing to the screen.
“No, but there have been quite a few missing people lately,” Mathias replied.
“This is about the twelfth woman to go missing in Minnesota in the past few months; I wonder if she’s on the void web,” Bash said thoughtfully.
“Supe involvement?” Trystan inquired.
Bash shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Wait, ‘void web’?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah it’s the internet for supernaturals. Generally, it’s hidden but smart supes can figure it out.” Bash flashed a wink at me. “You wanna see?”
I hesitated before shrugging. “Sure?”
He chuckled. “Come on. My computer is the quickest for it.” He outstretched his hand and gingerly, I placed mine into it. Quickly he darted, me in tow, through the hallway, up a slight winding case of light wooden stairs, and up to another hallway with a door on each side of the hall, to a third one at the end.
“This your room?” I asked, tentatively glancing around. It looked more like NASA central rather than a bedroom; though amongst the computers, endless monitors, and beeping and flashing machines I did see a lone king size bed with a tall canopy, and dark charcoal drapes that surrounded it. Any spot on the walls devoid of electronics contained a posted of comic book or video game art.
Literally, it was Nerd Central.
I had to fight to stifle my laugh as I took it all in. Because this was the nerd that also rode a motorcycle, speeding around like a demon. The thought was hilarious to me.
Bash stood in the center of the room, rolling his eyes humbly. “Yeah…it’s extreme. But with this computer system I can literally hack into anywhere.”
“Anywhere?” I repeated skeptically.
He grinned. “Anywhere. Though I refuse to use my powers for evil,” he insisted with a sideways wink. He motioned at a silver metal chair in front of his tall computer desk. “Have a seat.” He wheeled another matching chair from the other side of the desk, and he waved his hand over his monitor and after a moment, it flashed on.
“Magic?” I asked, awed.
He smiled. “Nope, just a sensor I had programmed to read my handprint—and the other guys’. But to access the Void Web it does take a bit of magic,” he said, as a black screen with a text prompt appeared.
Bash began typing furiously, screens on the monitor lighting up and changing in the blink of an eye. My mouth drooped open in a stunned surprise as I watched him “work.” Though he lacked a true “supernatural” skill, there was something otherworldly about his computer abilities. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but before long he ended up with a handful of photos of women across the screen.
“These are people we think have supernatural abilities; ones that have possibly been taken by the Collectors,” Bash said. “Most of them are from Minnesota and surrounding areas, but there are a few from other states as well. For some reason, there seems to be a strangely high number of them here.”
“Really? Minnesota? You’d think the cold weather would keep them away,” I said wryly, wrinkling my nose recalling the hot, soupy summer July air we’d been blessed with over the past few days. “Though it hasn’t been very cold lately, so there’s that.”
He chuckled wryly. “Yeah I’m not a fan of the heat either…” his statement trailed off quietly, leaving a tentative silence in the air before he sighed gently. “Besides Minnesota, though, there are many in New Orleans and the Gulf Coast—of course.”
“Of course,” I agreed, pretending it should be obvious why.
“And the East Coast as well…” He looked away from the computer, his expression fallen.
“All the…witch stuff, huh?” I said quietly.
“Yes. All the witch stuff. But…there haven’t been this many missing supes in a long time in one area.” Bash shook off his despondency, and started typing.
A picture of a cute brown-haired man with glasses appeared on the screen. “Who is that?”
“Gabriel O’Donnell. He’s a major contributor to the void web. I’m not sure what his story is, but I’ve been in contact with him here and there about the missing supes from Minnesota. I have no idea who he is, but he’s come up as missing too, recently. I haven’t heard from him in some time,” Bash explained, drumming his fingers on the edge of the keyboard. “He’d be the first person I’d get in touch with about all this, but since he hasn’t been responding to me lately. I’m on my own,” he said, with an exasperated sigh.
“You think he could have something to do with the missing supes?” I inquired, admiring the photo. He was a geeky-hot, much like Bash, but smaller built. But there was something clearly powerful behind those brown eyes.
“No, I’m not sure what his supe-powers are, but I don’t think he’s responsible. I just wish he was around, would make finding these new missing supes easier,” Bash said, with a dry chuckle. “Oh well. I know what happened to one of them, anyhow.” He flashed me a wink.
I lifted a brow. “You’ll have to add an entry for Swarthy later. Can you do that?”
Bash let out a short laugh. “Can I do that?” His question was clearly rhetorical.
I rolled my eyes. “Of course, you can.”
“And I will, just…later. Swarthy isn’t important, but finding that other girl is,” Bash said, typing away, only to be met with a blank screen. “Unfortunately, nothing is coming up on her so far. So, her involvement with him might be pure coincidence.” Bash sighed, leaning over the desk to rest his elbow on the desk. He sighed thoughtfully, resting his chin in his propped hand, and scratching at his blonde scruff. “Another dead end. Maybe it’s too soon,” he muttered thoughtfully.
“So…can you find any supe?” I asked hesitantly, trying to steer the conversation away from his sullen mood. The sadness weighed heavily in his icy blue eyes. It made me uncomfortable to notice it…like secretly I wish I could make him feel better. And that was ridiculous…we’d only just met.
Right?
Bash looked up at me expectantly. “Your father?”
I shrugged lightly. “My mother doesn’t know anything about him…”
“Right. Well…if he’s been active in the supe community at all, he is probably in here. But without any idea of who he is, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Bash pensively drummed his fingers on the desk before snapping his fingers. “Do you have a picture of your mother?”
“I think so.” I yanked my phone out of my pocket and flipped through my camera feed. I’d accidentally taken a still of her video when we’d been chatting. It wasn’t the greatest picture, but it was the only one I had; my mother hated to have her photo taken.
“Perfect.” He took the phone, emailing it to himself, presumably. He took his own phone and raised it up. “Smile, Ava.”
I scowled. “I hate photos.”
“Well frown then, whatever. I’m literally just running your face through the database. We should be able to find someone who looks similar to you,” he said, clicking a photo as I tried not to snarl too hard.
“Ugh,” I said, clicking my tongue. “I look like crap,” as he plugged in his phone with a cable and our photos popped up on the screen.
Bash shook his head gently. “No, Ava. Without being forward…you don’t look like crap at all.” He smiled wryly at me from over his shoulder.
I wrinkled my nose. Even after the bath my eyes were a bit dark underneath, and my skin was dull; my hair messier than usual with wisps of blonde, teal and lavender sticking out everywhere. I noticed the tee was larger than I thought, and the v-neck was pulled to the side, exposing a bit of top-cleavage. “Ugh…” was all I said, at my appearance.
Bash rolled his eyes. “Why do girls always do that? Someone says something nice and they just deny it?”
Something I’d been accused of doing many times: being self-deprecating. “Yeah…sorry. Bad habit. I just got into that mindset when I thought people were just ignoring me because I wasn’t pretty enough, or
smart enough or…something,” I said, smiling wryly with an easy shrug.
Bash ceased his typing, and his eyes shimmered as they gazed over me. A lazy smile spread across his full, kissable lips and, I bit back a huge smile as he gave me his appraising look. “No, don’t ever say you aren’t pretty enough. It was the magic. You just need to learn how to control it.” Hesitantly, he moved his hand from the mouse, and grazed his fingers over my knuckles carefully. “It’s their loss if they couldn’t see you properly,” he said with a small voice.
Warmth from his fingers tingled my skin. It wasn’t the same electricity as Xander’s touch; but it was a subtle heat. I gasped at the feeling.
Bash’s eyes widened, and he quickly pulled his hand away. “Sorry, sorry. It’s…sorry.”
I felt myself blush, though I just scoffed him off. “Oh, it’s no big deal.” I cleared my throat and forced a grin. “So, how exactly will this—” I bobbed my head towards the computer screen, “—help me find my biological father? And why do you need my mother’s photo? Wouldn’t mine alone do?”
“It would, but this way it will automatically not search for any feature that resemble your mother though…besides the nose you really don’t look alike at all,” Bash mused, rubbing at his reddened cheek, and moving his hand to rustle his hair.
“Really? We have the same eyes though? Well sorta…hers are darker,” I said. “It’s hard to see there but…” I squinted at the photo. The shot I had of my mother wasn’t the greatest. Every photo of her I seemed to have rarely turn out. Either they’re blurry or out of focus or too dark. In this shot, she was looking briefly to the side, not full-on at the camera.
“No, totally different color, but similar shaped. But the software will analyze both of your photos, and eliminate any physical trait that’s hers; sometimes the computer can detect things we can’t,” he said knowledgeably. “It should shorten the search time considerably.”
I nodded once. “Okay, then.”
We sat in silence for a while longer as he input search parameters into the engine. I questioned him about what else could be found on the void web—just to make conversation, and to see the intrigued smile on his face. He showed me the supernatural Facebook, supe-friendly businesses, and even a supernatural Tinder for dating. We were side-to-side, heads bowed together, giggling at several posts belonging to a “randy” fae, a lonely nymph, and mysterious shifter of some sort who described himself as “horny.” I snorted, thinking of the possibilities. “A horny unicorn?” I suggested, and Bash let out a raucous laugh. His company was easy, and I found myself comfortable as we joked effortlessly.
We jumped suddenly, hearing a knock at the door. We separated with guilty smiles to see Trystan’s sizeable silhouette in the door frame. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, leaning against the frame, grinning widely. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” he asked.
“No, we were just—I was showing her the web,” Bash said quickly.
“Yeah, he’s trying to find my ‘father’. If he’s in there…” I said.
“Aye, I see.” Trystan’s smirk lingered between the two of us before he finally spoke. “Well, your pooch is lookin’ for ya, lass. And Mathias is just about done with dinner. Nothing fancy, he says,” Trystan said with a roll of his eye I took to mean the Roman was just being modest. “But he’d be insulted if you didn’t at least come and try it.”
I exchanged a smile with Bash. “Well, far be it for me to deny the happiness of a Roman gladiator.” We started to stand, when Bash’s computer beeped. It apparently meant something, because he stopped to look at it.
His forehead wrinkled in the middle as he tapped on the keyboard.
Trystan joined us, and we peered over Bash’s shoulders.
“I don’t get it. It just stopped on these pictures,” Bash said, bewildered. The monitor was filled with photos of medieval art; swords, knights, and a dozen or so artworks of a gentleman in armor, with ancient script across the bottom.
Bash’s fingers flew over the letters, typing different things. The screen flipped photos once again before landing on an image of old artwork, depicting a gentleman in silver armor, holding a long, heavy sword. The face was somewhat blurred, probably due to age but his dark blonde hair and blue eyes could barely be made out. Underneath in ancient script were the words “Sir Lancelot du Loc of the Round Table.”
I snorted. “What the fuck is this? This is what your brilliant supernatural web came up with?”
Bash shook his head, confused. “I don’t know what it’s issue is. It must be the name; Avalon. It’s coming up with all things associated with the old Arthurian legend.”
“Especially this…Lancelot guy,” Trystan said, with a snicker.
Bash groaned. “It’s just confused. I gave it too many search parameters…” The screen went blank once again, and Bash was off and running.
Trystan rolled his eyes. He held out his arm to me. “He’ll be here forever. Come to dinner. Then we can figure out plans for the next day.”
“Plans? I was just here to wait out the storm!” I insisted, but reluctantly took his arm.
Trystan laughed shortly. “This is true, but with the Collectors avidly hunting you…well…going home, alone, untrained isn’t the best move.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, cutting me off. “I know, we won’t keep you here. But we need to discuss your options. Really. There’s no way we’d allow you to go home unprotected. It’s not just you at risk—your family too.”
My face sank. “When you put it that way…”
CHAPTER 13
The boys didn’t have an official dining room—but the island in the center of the open kitchen with its tall barstools sufficed. Mathias said he liked company when he was cooking.
“It’s not much,” Mathias said, setting a plate with a colorful salad in front of me, along with a smaller saucer with a slice of warm, fresh bread that smelled heavenly. “But I figured after the disgusting pizza these Neanderthals served you, that you could appreciate something light.”
“It looks great!” I praised, catching Mathias’ brown-eyed gaze, and he smiled gently.
He nodded once. “There’s cheese as well,” he said, motioning to a platter filled with colorful cheeses. I reached out and took several slices, and he poured me a glass of lemonade from a clear pitcher that matched the crystal plates.
I picked up a forkful of vibrant vegetables, smeared it in a light dressing that had dripped off my bite, and ate. It was fresh, flavorful, and tasted like ranch dressing, with a vinaigrette combination. Mathias watched expectantly as I ate, his face hopeful. I grinned. “It’s wonderful.”
The warm smile that spread across his face was priceless, up to the crimson in his dimpled cheeks. It was the first time I’d seen him smile so widely; so warm and genuine. It was sexy before…now he was downright undie melting (yes…undie, not “panty.” That’s a disgusting word). I squirmed a little under the weight of his gaze. But through my insecurity I forced a smile I hoped was confident. “Thank you,” I just said simply.
“Of course. Not often I get to cook for a pretty girl,” he said, with a wink of his brown eye.
Xander took the stool next to me and let out a loud, disgruntled noise. “God, Mathias…lay it on a little bit thicker next time, huh?”
Mathias chuckled warmly. “Well, it’s the Roman way. Everything in excess, right?”
“Aye, save some for us, will ye?” Trystan said, taking his own plate from the cupboards, and dishing up his own meal. I knew he wasn’t talking about the salad, as he sat across from me, offering me a flirty grin.
“Save some what?” I challenged him, narrowing my eyes with defiance.
He and Xander exchanged a brief look. “Oh, nothing. Just stupid male competition.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I replied, unconvinced.
Mathias uncorked a bottle of red wine, and offered me a glass; in a long-stemmed crystal chalice. I nodded, and he set it before me, before pouring himself hi
s own glass; raising it into the air. I followed suit. “To…new friends.”
I nodded singly. “New friends.”
“Friends my ass…” Trystan muttered under his breath, but smiled innocently when Mathias glared severely at him.
I let out a pointed cough. “Stop it, you.” I stuck my tongue out at him immaturely.
Mathias ignored his friend mostly, shaking his head and smirking gently. “So, have you any thought of what you wanted to do now? Are you going to be staying with us for a while? Do I get to cook for you again?”
I nearly choked on my bite of cheese. “Stay!? Here? You mean, for good?” I turned to each one of the men; their gazes’ expectant. “Look, you guys are awesome, but…I just met you. I want to—learn. But…isn’t that soon? Maybe it is normal in whatever century you all were from to shack up with someone—someones—you just met. But, this is 2017! A single female living with four men she just met the day before? Insane!”
“Yes, it is a bit crazy. But a day ago, did you know for sure that you were a supernatural being? Were you aware—for sure—that others existed? Did you have an explanation for your abilities?” Xander offered. “If those things aren’t so crazy…maybe this isn’t so crazy after all.”
“Aye. Leaving you alone with the Collectors…especially when we aren’t sure what they want with you—with anyone. It would be dangerous,” Trystan insisted.
I stabbed my fork into my salad, grumbling lightly, as the thunder rolled ominously in the distance. Not as a warning, but perhaps as a sign. I’d never been afraid of storms; they were always relaxing to me. “Well, maybe if there’s dessert, I can be persuaded to think more about it in the morning.”