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“Welcome, and thank you.”
The leader of the group, a stalwart, stoic warrior who carried a thin, light blade that looked as glitteringly sharp as his eyes, tapped his heels together and gave us a curt bow.
“Kendris, at your service. My men and I will do our best to protect you and your family, Lady Camille. We will die in your service, if need be. If you will just show us the lay of the land and tell us who lives here and who your safe visitors are?”
Camille glanced at me. “Go back to the website. I’ll call Tanne Baum from out here. I’ve got his phone number in my contacts.” She led the warriors down the steps as I headed back inside, glad to not be the one wandering around in the scattershot of rain.
After pouring another glass of chocolate milk, I hunted through Violet’s account. She had a prime-level membership, which meant she could peruse all the videos available, as well as all the text listings. I glanced over the settings on her profile as to what she was looking for in a partner.
She’d checked the classifications for lovers and friends with benefits, but apparently was not looking for a long-term relationship. She’d also checked the box for polyamorous, but she was straight, not bisexual. She wasn’t open to anybody other than Fae—no Weres, vamps, humans, or other races. Which made Tad’s assertion that she wasn’t interested in him more likely to be true.
Under her interests, she’d listed computers, gaming, dancing, hiking, camping, gardening, rafting, and a number of other outdoor activities. Violet didn’t drink, she didn’t smoke, and refused to try drugs. She had checked the box for kink, but in the designations, she had excluded some of the grosser activities—no water sports or bodily wastes. Also, she wasn’t into S&M, however, she was open to bondage, and slave-play.
She’d uploaded a video a couple weeks ago that had already been viewed four hundred times. A listing offered statistics as to who—by nickname only—had looked at it. As I studied the stats, I noticed that the same user had viewed the video thirty of those times, all before Violet had disappeared. The rest had watched it once or twice. Noting down the nick of her most avid fan, which was HotBod24, I watched the video.
Violet was pretty . . . long dark hair with brilliant green eyes. She was slight, but looked fairly strong, and I had the feeling she was a tough little cookie. Her voice was soft, and alluring. No wonder Tad had been attracted to her, there was something primal about her—seductive but not overt. Definitely a geek girl—as much as one of the Fae could be—she had the same glamour that all the Fae do, regardless of background or interests. Even the Fae who were hideous by human standards possessed a magnetism that was hard to deny.
Next, I did a search on HotBod24.
Well . . . according to his profile, HotBod24 was a guy, and his picture had a Fae look to it, but something felt off. His profile seemed too streamlined, almost generic, and if there’s one thing that the Fae weren’t, it was generic. Even those of us who were half-breeds had some oddball quirk that made us who we were.
The more I studied his picture, the more I had the feeling the account was a cover up. And the fact that he didn’t have a video posted seemed odd, too. I did a quick perusal and, as far as I could tell, at least 75 percent of the members had some sort of live footage available.
Next, I opened up Violet’s account e-mail. There were five e-mails from HotBod24, all sent within the past three weeks, all asking her for a meetup. They became more insistent with each one. They weren’t slimy, which some of the other letters were, but again, something nagged at me that I couldn’t put my finger on. I checked her Sent Mail. Bingo. She’d finally agreed, after writing two hesitant letters. They’d scheduled a meeting for . . .
Hell. She’d agreed to meet him at the coffee shop at the Farantino Building. At 4:00 P.M., the day she had disappeared.
As I stared at the e-mail, Camille entered the kitchen from the back porch. She was flushed from the rain, and wet.
“I got them squared away—one is on duty at all times watching the rogue portal out . . . what’s wrong?” She cocked her head. “What’s going on?”
I crooked my finger. “Come look at this. I found out Violet was having coffee with one of her contacts from Supernatural Matchups the day she vanished. Look at where she agreed to meet him.”
Camille peeked over my shoulder. “Oh fuck. Fucking hell.”
“Yeah, that was my reaction. What now?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to make of this. But if she is involved with daemonic activity, it can’t be all that good.” She glanced around. “Where’s Shade?”
“He’s taking care of some sort of business. He left a note that he wouldn’t be back till dinner time. What about Morio and Vanzir?”
She shrugged. “Morio was gone this morning too. Left the same kind of note. I’m not sure about Vanzir. He never leaves much in the way of messages.”
I let out a little laugh. “Gee, the house feels empty. Wait—who’s taking care of Maggie today?”
Camille’s eyes opened wide. “Fuck, I don’t know. I thought she might be with Shade.” She jumped up and me, hot on her heels, headed into Hanna’s room.
As we skidded into the tidy bedroom, we stopped short. There was Vanzir, playing on his Game Boy while Maggie was laughing in her playpen. She was dancing with her Yobie doll, and she moophed softly when she saw us, and held up her arms.
“Camey! De-ya-ya!” Her smile cut through the gloom and I lifted her out of the playpen while Camille leaned over Vanzir’s shoulder.
“Thank you—we thought she’d been left alone.”
“Hell no. Nobody leaves the Magster alone.” Vanzir flashed us one of his rare smiles free of sarcasm. “What’s shaking besides your boobs, chickie-pooh?”
Camille snorted. “Hey, I can’t help having curves. And I don’t remember you complaining . . . On second thought, never mind.” She sobered and took Maggie from me. “We found out something disturbing.”
“No—really?” And snarky Vanzir was back, but that was the way we were used to him. Anything else seemed out of place.
