He glanced towards the door when Quill walked in.
Eyeing the tall Fate, he nodded towards the chickens, as he asked, “Happen to know where their owner is? Or anyone, for that matter? I noticed quite a few people were missing, Cyrus included.”
Quill’s brow rose. “You…don’t know?”
“Know what?”
The Fate’s face scrunched a bit. “I really don’t think I should be the one to tell you.”
“Oh?” he said cheerfully. “That’s too bad. As I really think you should. And I assure you, it’ll be much more pleasant for you if you do it willingly.”
“I think that was a threat,” Zenny snickered.
“Oh, it definitely was.” He ruffled the Cupid’s hair.
Quill gulped. “Uhh…”
They were just drivinginto the desert to meet up with a dangerous criminal in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. What could possibly go wrong?!Cyrus thought with heavy sarcasm.
He eyed the building they were approaching. Almost factory-sized, the white dome-shaped structure was one that likely could be easily put up and torn down. Around it were about a dozen vehicles of all kinds, and closer to the building still, from the front, he saw at least ten guards.
Ten very armed guards, but then, so was everyone in the SUV, including him. As likely were those in the five SUVs following behind theirs. All the weapons were illegal, of course, as there was no way anyone there would ever pass a background check—aside from himself.
There were a total of eight people in the vehicle, with Soren in the front passenger seat, him and Ender in the front bucket seats, with two additional rows behind them.
Cyrus rubbed at his eyes, the coolness of the Shadow Shell bothering them. But then, they’d been driving for at least three hours. As disguises went, he certainly was both impressed and…irritated. He for sure didn’t look like himself, aside from the height, but he had to say, he would have preferred tonotlook like a preppy, blond-haired, blue eyed, bare faced, white college frat boy, who was at most in his early twenties.
Mainly, as he had dealt with individuals who looked exactly like this, and had faced one too many angry, entitled mothers,who didn’t seem to understand the Bureau was a workplace and a government agency, not a daycare.
Everyone else hadn’t even attempted to disguise themselves, but then, they were in the middle of nowhere, in an area he knew for sure had something set up to project false satellite images. Cyrus was also the only one who had anything to worry about if recognized.
“Make sure to put drops in next time. The shells can dry out your eyes,” Ender mused, before wrinkling his nose as he continued to eye him, and blurting, “Who the fuck picked your shell?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“Arco likely grabbed one at random,” Soren drawled.
“Well then, I guess it’s time to inform Arco’s ass that they better meet up with Boo and get that shit marked and sorted, because unless there is a damn good reason, they sure as shit shouldn’t be turning my tallest Baby Daddy into a fucking white boy!”
“I’ll let them know,” the Harpy grunted.
There were multiple parts of what Ender had just said that had made him happy. Then again, Ender claiming him in any way always seemed to excite him just a bit. But also… “Boo?”
“Casper ‘Boo’ Bluemont, the Shadow Dweller that invented and created the Perm Shadow Shells,” Ender informed him.
“Ah…”
The conversation lulled when they reached the building and parked. No one said a word as they got out and were approached by a single armed guard. Two of the other vehicles emptied and joined their group, putting their total at twenty-four, while the other three stayed inside.
Without a word, the man nodded for them to follow.
Cyrus’ gaze flicked around to the faces of those on the other side, as he walked only a step behind Ender, while they wereled silently into the building. Once inside, they walked through detectors that checked them for devices and more.
On the side they entered, it was pretty empty, aside from the pillars, and some random wooden crates that were lying about. But at the midway point, there was a single desk set up, with two plush chairs on either side of it.
A slimy, black-haired Cryptid with pale skin, that he instantly recognized as Jurosso Condi, was currently occupying one of those chairs. And stationed around behind him, a small distance away, were at least thirty armed guards.
Half of the people with them spread out, with some placing themselves near the door, while the rest, like himself, stayed with Ender as they walked over to the table.
