“Uh… hackers? That’s highly illegal, Jesus Boy. Way to uphold the Ten Commandments. I’m no bible-thumper, but I’m pretty sure one of those rules says, ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ I’m also pretty sure, though not certain, that hacking into government databases is stealing.” I gripped his shoulder with my left hand and shook it. “That is pretty badass, if I’m being honest. You just gained a couple of points in my book.”
“Before accessing the supernatural database, I scanned the local reports for any information that matched and possibly confirmed what Gladas had provided us.”
“I thought you abandoned Gladas? Now you’re back on him? Is it because he’s so good-looking? Is that why you’re so obsessed with him and can’t stop thinking about him, and why you’re ignoring my stories? Listen, he might have a better jawline and bigger, more defined muscles and a more in-style haircut and wardrobe—”
“Your wardrobe is my wardrobe.”
“That’s not even true. Dakota—never mind. Point is, don’t interrupt me. Gladas might be better than me in every way, but can he love you like only I can love you? What did Tay Tay say? ‘I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me.’”
After I released the long high note at the end of the lyric, Xander—while cleaning out his ear, I might add—said, “Are you even capable of love?”
“I loved your mom pretty hard and pretty long last night.”
Xander nodded, as if expecting my response. “Here’s what I figured out last night. The American River splits into a few tributaries. As a whole, it encompasses over 250. Over the past decade, exactly 341 individuals have disappeared near the river. Of those missing, only seventy-seven bodies have been rediscovered. Two hundred and sixty-four of those people are still mysteriously gone. Do you know what that means?”
I probably should’ve cared more about his statistics, but numbers and Joseph Labrador went together like fairy dust and rabbit turds—that is to say, not at all. “I wonder…” I said, lingering for a second with the quiet that followed. I had to bait him in, make him think I’d listened to his rambling mathematics. “If there’s another Automaton around to kill me. I think I would much rather die than hear you do any more math.”
Xander crossed his arms. “Two hundred and sixty-four divided by ten years is twenty-six per year—which is a fraction over two people per month. Double-checking the dates, it almost matches exactly. Two disappearances every single month for ten years. That’s not a coincidence. It’s a pattern.”
“Dakota said that a Scylla feeds every two weeks.”
“Bingo! I crossed-referenced that exact thought into the local channels.”
I wiped my mouth, feeling the adrenaline of working an investigation take over me. I missed the whirlwind of the chase. For a brief moment, and I’m ashamed to say this, I forgot about Melanie and Hecate. I found myself wrapped up in the hunt.
“I searched for any eyewitness accounts. Do you know how many people stepped forward with a story that matched Gladas’s? Two.”
“You have to give me a chance to answer your questions. I was going to say six, for the record.”
“Gladas was one, and eleven years ago, an eighteen-year-old girl. She went to Placerville Police Department and El Dorado County Sheriff’s Department. She told the same story to both departments. Right there.” He pointed at a bunch of small words on the screen that I refused to read. He knew it, not even allowing me time to pretend to scan the report. “She told them she saw a woman who, instead of legs, had twelve tentacles.”
“HA. You said testicles.”
“Tentacles.” His lips tightened and he glanced at me. “What do you make of that?”
“She’s loonier than a toon,” I said. “Cuckoo for the cocoa loco. Twelve tentacles? So, she saw a meroctopus?” Mermaid and octopus hybrid. I made it up on the spot and felt pretty proud about it.
“Octopi have eight legs, but that’s beside the point,” Xander pressed. “Both departments took her information and said they would look into it, and then they dismissed her. You think they ever looked into it?”
“Why are you asking me rhetorical questions?”
“They never did.” Only jackasses answered their own rhetorical questions. “They laughed it off and buried the incident under their priority list. Well, I found it. Using the supernatural database, I cross-referenced her description with Gladas’s.”
He didn’t say anything for a second, so I asked, “And what did you find?”
Xander stood and stretched, grinning like a batty comic book villain. “A Scylla. Are you ready?”
I threw my arms in the air. “Ready for what? To eat? If so, than yes. I’m ready to eat. It has to be at least an hour past lunchtime, and you didn’t allow me enough time this morning to eat a proper breakfast.”
“We can grab food afterward,” Xander said, fighting his shit-eating grin. He knew something and wasn’t sharing the goodies.
“Grab food after what?”
“We’re paying a visit to Annabel Nevis.”
I looked out the window and sighed. “Who’s that?”
“You pay attention to anything? She was the eighteen-year-old witness from eleven years ago claiming that a monster killed her brother in the American River. Unlike the PPD and EDSO, I don’t intend to laugh away her claims.”
I bit my lip and took a second to consider what Xander had said. “I’m going to rip off your ball sack and force it down that paper shredder. You’ve been super weird since I teleported in here—like you barely even acknowledged that I teleported through my own willful action. You’re being super vague about information… and the last time you got like this was my surprise birthday party. So, what the fuck aren’t you
