A Cryptid Enters the Chat
Seth
One month later…
My teeth sink into the little pastry thing I’m eating and I hum with delight.
I have no idea what the hell it is, or what Oliver put in it to make it so damn good, but at this point I don’t really care.
I’m just glad to be eating it. Water gently burbles from the now working fountain in Cian and Trissa’s back yard, and a mosaic pattern flits across the water’s surface as the fairy lights hanging all above the courtyard twinkle in earnest. It’s idyllic…
a complete contrast to the sensations the front of the house invoked not so long ago, stained with blood as it was.
Everything has been cleaned and painted over, but the vibes are still different.
I shake my head and frown, way to get a dark and broody, Seth. Not the vibes I strive for—at all. Cian’s blonde hair catches my attention and I turn towards him, forcing myself to shake off the dreary and injecting as much playfulness into my tone as possible.
“Open wide!” I hold out one of the little pastry things Ollie brought with him and wave it in front of Cian’s face.
“Wha—hmfph—Seth, what the fuck? You can’t just shove baked goods in my fucking…” my ornery bestie sputters—rather dramatically—around the delectable morsel before chewing and tilting his head to the side. “This is actually really good.”
“No shit. Everything Oliver makes is delicious. If I was single and he wasn’t enamored with that banshee witch I might go after him myself, just for his delicious snacks.”
Cian squints, “Really? I thought you said without his glamour he’s…” his hands gesture vaguely in the air between us as he trails off.
My shoulders lift in a shrug and I waggle my brow ridges, “I’ll try anything once.”
“What are we trying?” Oliver’s reserved voice pipes up from behind us and I spin around to see him looking dapper in his usual getup of corduroy pants and a bold sweater vest that somehow slaps.
Speak of the devil and all that. A lascivious smile tugs at the corner of my lips (because why not?) while Cian smiles tightly, eyeballing me as if keeping me in his sights will somehow deter me from poking the metaphorical bear.
Absurd. It’s like he doesn’t know me at all.
I’m gonna poke it. I’m gonna poke the shit out of it.
“You,” I purr. Oliver blinks twice at my innuendo and I fix him with my best simper.
Cian squeezes his eyes shut, his smile somehow more wooden as he huffs, “He means your pastry.”
“Mmm, do I?” Serving ‘coquettish’ without eyelashes is a challenge, but I flare my orbs and fold a hand under my chin in as close an approximation as I can manage, despite the fact that this is as human as I can look without a glamour.
The phantom menace scoffs and Oliver looks between us with mild confusion but smiles politely.
“They’re delicious, Oliver. Thank you for bringing them,” Cian mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose and sighing.
“He means your buns.” A grin splits my face as Oliver’s smile slowly falls and Cian makes a choking sound that threatens to break my poker face. I swear, he just makes it too easy.
“They’re actually cream puffs.” Oliver shifts on his feet and glances at Cian before looking back at me and pursing his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
The squonk is an undercover deviant! He fucking knows exactly what he’s doing. Oh, gods, I think I love this little weirdo.
My voice warbles with restrained laughter as I amend, “Even better, he loves your cream.”
“For fucks sake, Seth.” Cian’s blush has spread from his cheeks to the bright red tips of his ears, and is quickly spreading down his neck.
Ollie doesn’t bother hiding his shit eating grin as he shrugs his shoulders like its par for the course, and of course people love having his cream in their mouths.
I wait a beat before snickering and shouting, “Guess who’s trying the Dubai chocolate cheese-sticks!”
A long suffering groan sounds out from the doorway before Trissa floats down the porch steps, materializing next to her boo and wrapping her arms around his right elbow.
“Baaaabe, really?” She might have seemed exasperated, if it wasn’t for the beaming smile on her face.
Cian pins her with an accusing frown that fools absolutely no one as his eyes soften and he sighs, “It’s your own fault for betting on how long it’d take him to rile me up.” Before Trissa can respond Cian smirks and adds, “That, and I actually want to try the cheese-sticks.”
Oliver and I burst out in full bodied laughs as Trissa’s jaw drops and she’s left sputtering, “You rotten little cheat!”
“You’re just jealous you were out-maneuvered. Besides, you love chocolate.” Cian eyes his lover speculatively and drops a kiss on the top of her head.
“Yes, but not on my cheese.” Her nose scrunches up and she shivers with disgust, but all I can do is shake my head, because how dare she doubt my judgement when it comes to food. Everything else? Fair game, but I’m like… the king of odd pairings that make delicious snacks.
Oliver clears his throat, which I’m starting to think might be less a nervous tick and more just a personality trait, and asks, “So, have you decided where you’ll be going first?”
Trissa’s face immediately lights up and she gushes about her and Cian’s upcoming backpacking trip through the Irish countryside and Scottish highlands.
She makes a joke about getting stoned all over the world—portal stones being the mode of travel they decided on after Trissa realized she still preferred to avoid vehicles.
It helps that they can both turn incorporeal and basically fly, too.
I smile and nod along, even as my eyes focus in on the two figures that just rounded the corner into the yard.
Gabbi, and some handsome tall glass of water I’ve never seen before.
Gabbi blushes at something her companion says and I grin. Good for her.
“Gabs!” Trissa cuts off and runs toward her friend, quickly grabbing the other woman into her arms and squeezing tight.
I hear Oliver make a little sound in the back of his throat and turn just in time to see a flash of recognition in his eyes. Cian must catch it as well, because he quietly murmurs, “Do you know him?”
Ollie nods and whispers back, “That’s Charlie… we’re friends.” Oliver winces slightly and glances at us hesitantly, “… she’s?”
“Trissa’s human best friend.” Cian’s tone is tense, which is understandable, considering it sounds like Charlie boy is decidedly not human.
I watch as they get closer and casually throw my arm around Oliver’s shoulder, leaning in and asking, “How bad is it?”
Oliver’s takes a shaky breath and whispers, just loud enough for us to hear it, “Chupacabra.”
Well… fuck. She’s not gonna like that. It’s taken Gabbi the better part of this past month to warm up to Cian and stop jumping every time he enters the room.
And he looks human even in his paranormal form.
She still won’t come within hugging distance of me, which is a damn shame, because I give great hugs.
If there was ever a human too skittish to be with a paranormal, it’d be Gabbi…
hell, she still refuses to meet my eyes.
No way in any version of hell would she be so cozy with this goat sucker if she knew.
I narrow my eyes and suck my teeth, suddenly much less amused, especially as I watch his hand trail possessively down her back, stopping to rest on her hip with more than a little familiarity.
There’s really not much that genuinely pisses me off in this world, but using glamours to take advantage of unsuspecting humans has always rubbed me the wrong way.
“Oliver, this is my best friend Gabbi and her date—” Trissa glances at the newcomer and pauses for a moment. One side of my lips lifts in a twisted smirk, because Trissa just noticed the tell-tale glimmer of Charlie boys glamour.
“Charlie.” Oliver nods, his voice more reserved than I’ve ever heard it.
I glance over and do a double take. Ohhhh…
Ollie’s pissed! His normally kind face is a mask of indifference, and I gotta hand it to him, despite the overall 30-year-old virgin thing he’s got going on, he gives edgy dark academia vibes when he’s angry.
Mental note to self: tell Oliver to get angry around the banshee witch he has the hots for.
If she sees him like this she might just slip in her own puddle of lust.
“O-Ollie!” Charlie’s shock is plain on his face, his warm complexion draining of all color right in front of our eyes. That’s right you goat-sucking douche knuckle, you’re busted.
Gabbi’s smile falters and she looks at everyone, even—to my great surprise—me, before she blinks rapidly and looks away “Triss… I—I thought you said there would only be paranormals here.” She swallows thickly, her big doe eyes swimming with dread.
Cian said she’s always been perceptive. Seems like he was right.
Trissa glares at Charlie and tugs her friend into her side. “There are, Gabs." She fixes the interloper with an accusing glare and grinds out, "Who the fuck are you?”
I cross my arms over my chest and send a few imposing shadows out to support Trissa’s ire for good measure, enjoying the flash of fear that shines in Charlie’s eyes as he takes a small step back with his hands up.
“I—I can explain.” He looks at Gabbi, his eyes all pathetic and pleading as he murmurs, “Please, Corazón…”
“Y-you’re not human?” Gabbi’s eyes are so wide that she looks like one of those freaky antique dolls. She’s maaaybe a shade darker that Trissa now, which is significant, because Trissa makes even Cian’s pasty ass look lightly tanned.
Charlie’s shoulders slump and he takes an uneven breath, “Well, I mean I pretty much can be… with… with the glamour. I don’t have to take it off.”
A low growl sneaks out of my throat and Cian scoffs, his ears a deep red as he rolls his eyes and says, “The answer is no. You’re not fucking human.
” He looks over at his soul bonded partner and her, quite frankly terrified best friend and sighs, “She deserves the truth. And the ability to choose for herself if being with a para is something she wants.”
Trissa’s eyes sparkle with emotion as she smiles affectionately at Cian, before they swing back to Charlie and harden. “You need to leave.”
His throat clicks and he shakes his head once, swinging wild eyes to Oliver, “Please, man. Tell her. Tell her about the glamours they have out now. I can stay like this, I can—”
“Leave, Charlie.” Oliver’s voice is quiet, but firm.
“She needs time. Even if you adapt to wearing glamours all the time, which isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, strong emotions can shatter them.
” Charlie’s eyes bug out and he swallows thickly as Oliver continues, “Leave now and let her decide to reach out to you. You broke one of the biggest directives of the Glamour Support Group, man.”
Charlie nods morosely and whispers, “Never use a glamour to conceal identity from a romantic partner… or mate.” His nostrils flare and I raise a brow ridge.
Oh boy. Cian’s eyes meet mine over Trissa’s head and I shrug slightly at the question in his.
Mate shit is not my forte, and while I still think he’s a dick cheese for lying to Gabbi, I can almost understand it if she really is his mate.
Almost. Not really. Okay, yeah, he’s still an idiot.
“Please go, Charlie. I… I’ll text you. But just… stay away while I try to process this… yeah?” Gabbi’s voice is weak and diffident, but her eyes are steely and sure.
Charlie must recognize the finality in her request, because he nods once and turns around, his eyes suspiciously moist as he walks stiffly back the way they came. We all watch him go, and I can see the hesitance in every line of his body the further he gets from his scared little human.
“Oh my gods, Gabs. Are you okay?” Trissa’s voice is heavy with concern and I watch, slowly stepping back along with Oliver as Trissa and Cian tend to their clearly shocked friend.
The last thing a para-shy human needs after finding out her boyfriend isn’t human is a fuckin reaper and squonk weirding up the atmosphere.
Oliver’s phone pings and we both glance down at his crotch. “You gonna get that?”
He purses his lips and shakes his head once, “It’s probably Charlie. I’m not in the mood to lend a helping hand just now.”
I tilt my head and brighten my eyes, unable to stop myself from saying, “I have helping hands aplenty. You just say the word, crybaby.”
Oliver eyes me skeptically, then snorts and rolls his eyes, “No offense, but you’re not my type and your girlfriend scares me.”
My brow ridges draw tight in consternation, “But I’m everyone’s type! Wait… my girlfriend scares you? What about me? I’m a fucking soul reaper.”
Ollie laughs and rolls his head. “I’ve seen bunnies scarier than you.
Your girlfriend? She looks at me like she wants to eat me and then reanimate my corpse to play with afterward.
” He shudders—actually fucking shudders, and then shakes his head.
“You keep those helping hands to yourself, thank you ever so much.”
My eyes flash and start spinning and before I can stop myself I pull Oliver into a side hug and ruffle his chestnut brown hair. “You’re funny. Why the fuck don’t you talk more?”
He raises a single brow and hums, “Have you met you?”
I shake my head and chuckle, “Touché.” Amusement has replaced all the annoyance from the Charlie thing, and when I glance back over toward the others I find them all laughing and seemingly much more relaxed.
Trissa floats up and drops a kiss on Cian’s cheek, both of them glowing with their happiness, and I breathe a contended sigh.
Life is absolutely fucking bananas… but then there’s peanut butter and chocolate, too.
Make of that profound analogy what you will.