“Got any ideas?” Alan asked.
Apparently, no one did because they remained silent the rest of the way down. When the doors opened on their floor, Rebecca led the way to the team’s small office. The dark, windowless room was more like a storage closet, but hey, at least they had a computer and enough space to store their camera equipment. The Hunt for Cryptids didn’t have the ratings to earn them a view.
Alan sat behind the computer, and Rebecca and Spencer sat on either side of him. She chewed on her bottom lip and then opened and closed her mouth as if she wanted to speak.
“What’s your idea?” Spencer asked.
“I know when we started this show, we wanted the focus to be on the evidence we could capture. But what if we reorganized? So many people catch supposed evidence on their phones these days, we could do a call for submissions, interview the people, focus on the legends rather than the actual hunt.”
Alan scowled, two lines forming between his brows as he considered her idea. “That’s not what we’re about.”
“Pretty soon, we won’t be about anything,” she said. “It’s time to rethink our strategy.”
“You’re right,” Spencer said. “That’s a good strategy for future episodes if we’re allowed to continue, but we’ve only got two weeks to plan this one. Even with Alan’s social media reach, it would take time to get enough quality submissions. Then sorting them all, pulling out the good ones… We don’t have that kind of time.”
“Let’s table the idea for now.” Alan’s fingers clicked on the keyboard, and a schedule of past episodes opened on the screen. “We need something fresh and doable in a short period.”
Spencer scanned the list. “We haven’t done Bigfoot in a while. It’s not fresh, but it’s the easiest one to get evidence for. We could go to a different location to change it up.”
Alan grimaced. “I hate to say it, but that might be our only option.”
“What about the kitsune?” Rebecca asked. “We haven’t done that one, and if we take still images, with the shutter speed slow enough, I can wag my tail and create the illusion of having multiple. If we blur the image, it could be ambiguous enough to make skeptics question it.”
“But it would be fake,” Spencer said. “We got away with Lilith’s El Cadejo. If we make that our M.O., we’re begging to get busted.”
“He’s right,” Alan said as he opened a web browser. “No faking evidence. We have to be authentic.”
They sat in silence, searching their respective devices for ideas, but Spencer couldn’t help himself. He swiped open his messaging app and clicked on his text exchange with Lilith. Yes, he’d replied when she’d apologized. It would have been rude to ignore her. And maybe they’d texted a few more times over the week following the expedition in Costa Rica, so what? He hated the idea of any animal suffering, so he had checked in on Esther occasionally.
Lowering his phone into his lap, he read their most recent exchange.
Spencer: How’s your familiar today?
Lilith: Not great. She'll eat, but I’ve yet to see her as energetic as the sitter described her when I was in Costa Rica.
Spencer: I’m sorry to hear that.
Lilith: It seems one adventure with you wasn’t enough to cure her.
Spencer: What are you going to do?
Lilith: Perhaps I’ll try speed dating again.
His stomach churned as he reread that line. The idea of Lilith with another man didn’t just ruffle his feathers, it plucked them out one by one, making his skin crawl and his muscles tense. He needed to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with his owl because Lilith was off-limits.
So why couldn’t he help himself?
Forget the fact she was powerful enough to squash him like a cockroach in his sleep the moment he did something to piss her off. That was a given, but it didn’t stop him from fantasizing about the way her soft, pale skin would feel beneath his fingertips. The way her fangs would feel piercing his flesh as he pumped his hips…
He stretched his neck, banishing the thoughts from his mind. She was immortal, for fuck’s sake. He refused to get involved with someone who would outlive him for millennia. She’d said that problem had an easy fix, but there was no way in all of The Underworld he’d let her turn him. His cousin Sam had fallen in love with a vampire a decade ago. When she turned him, Sam had lost his owl. A piece of his soul had died with his transformation, and he hadn’t been the same since. The thought of losing that much of himself made Spencer want to vomit. No way was he giving up his owl for Lilith…for anyone.
He had never replied to her speed dating statement, and a full twenty-four hours passed before he heard from her again.
Lilith: Where are you headed next? Somewhere exciting?
That was another reason he needed to squelch the emotions his owl was forcing on him. Lilith wasn’t interested in him. She was after excitement so she could heal her familiar. Spencer was simply a means to an end.
Still, he’d been compelled to confide in her.
