“No.” Alastair snorted. “Just call his name, and say something that will get his attention. And…” the man paused before adding, “Talk fast, in case he tries to kill you before asking any questions, for having the audacity to summon him like a dog.”
“Noted.” He sighed. “I suppose…this does help me settle on keeping the cameras up.”
“Cameras?” the vampire squawked.
“Why do both of you say ‘cameras’ like that?”
“Oh…my…Goddess.” Alastair glanced around narrowly, eyes widening when he must have noticed one. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! You said cameras?! How many did you put up?!”
“So I maybe installed thirty-eight cameras after Foxx was kidnapped, for safety. A perfectly reasonable amount,” he said in all seriousness.
Alastair groaned and rubbed at his temples. “You two give me such a headache.” The man shook his head and started towalk away. “I’m out of here. Bye, you absolute psycho.” The man gave a sarcastic wave as he disappeared into the hall.
“Hope Daydric kills you!” the vampire yelled out.
“Alastair,” he growled as a thought occurred to him. The sound of footsteps stopped. “Try to stay inside and avoid crowds for now.”
“What…?” he heard the vampire rasp.
“I can’t tell you why. But it’s related to what just went down in Iowa.”
Foxx had no way to actually share things with Alastair right now, besides the phone, since they weren’t seeing each other. Harlow figured, if Foxx lost his best friend due to Maverick’s shit, the vampire would be…devastated? Was that the right word? Maybe… Either way, his brat would probably blame himself for not warning him.
“Okay…” The hesitant word was followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.
He sat back down in the gray plush chair with a sigh.
Just…call his name, huh?
Foxx walked into the apartment,the door closing and locking behind him. He was adding the extra safety locks when a scent caught his attention. Frowning, he flipped the last manual lock and sped down the hallway.
“Harlow… Was…Alastair here?” he asked, on finding the dhampir relaxing in the first half of the living room, in one of the chairs.
“He was. Don’t worry about it. We talked. Everything is fine.”
Foxx stared at the man’s blank expression, and…felt no comfort from it whatsoever. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Harlow raised a single brow. “Naturally suspicious?”
“No… I'm pretty sure it’s just that you are usually full of shit,” Foxx said with a fake smile.
The man shrugged. “No bullshit this time. Things are fine. I did warn him to stay inside though… Anyway, you should call Tony…now that you are back and all.”
He narrowed his eyes on the man, searching for some sort of clue that he maybe had Alastair’s body stuffed somewhere. Though…Foxx supposed he’d have noticed if someone had been offed in here.
Wait… Harlow had warned Alastair? Foxx…hadn’t even thought about warning the vampire. Some best friend he was!
Though, to be fair, it wasn’t like he’d had much time to think over this shit. Grimacing, and still eyeing the man suspiciously, he pulled out his phone.
Harlow eyed Tony and Charity as they sat down across from him at the dining table, Foxx taking the seat next to him.
“Before we go into the new pain in the ass situation that’s cropped up…” Tony sighed and slid a large manila envelope onto the table, pushing it towards him. “As of one hour ago, you are officially registered.”
Foxx sputtered. “Already?! How is that even possible?! It took them six months to fully process my damn registration form! And that was only after multipleinvasivebloody in-person screenings!”
Harlow eyed the envelope. Foxx wasn’t wrong… It was pretty fast. While there were laws about how quickly one had to register with the Paranormal Existence Acknowledgement Registration Agency, along with rules on when and how many times one had to update one’s file… The fact was…those dates were more for when one had to submit the registration form and/or the PEAR amendment paperwork. It was basically impossible to be fully registered within the month’s time they gave for new turns, andthose who just came of age, because of how tedious all of it was, on top of…well, just the normal, poorly run government agency thing. As long as your paperwork had been submitted within the time frame it was fine.
“I guess it is possible when you have connections,” Harlow mused while grabbing the envelope, and finding it not sealed, he dumped the contents out. A PEAR ID fell out, along with a piece of paper that was a processed and accepted registration form with official stamps and everything.
