Otis was sleeping on the sofa to my left and Adonis was midway through writing a new song on his phone on my right. Dominick sat on the floor watching the latest supernatural drama, right in front of where I was sitting with my legs crossed on the sofa chair and my sketchbook resting in my lap.
"Congrats, Tristan!" I was the first to congratulate him.
"Took your ass long enough to get a job," Otis mumbled, his eyes still closed.
"You know he could have gotten a job eons ago but was being picky," Dominick reminded.
"Secret Ops Agent, huh. Does that mean we're never going to see you again? I'm trying to determine if I should feel happy or disturbed with your lack of presence in our lives after today."
"Shut up!" Tristan was still beaming from ear to ear, and he literally skipped over to where I was. Going around the red suede chair, he leaned over to put his head on my shoulder.
"Thank you, Cass, for being the only one to congratulate me."
"No one cares," Otis huffed.
"Congrats, bro. We'll go eat on your behalf. I'm hungry," Dominick encouraged.
"You would have gone to eat regardless," Adonis pointed out. "Congrats, Tristan. Now are we never seeing you again, or what?"
"I'm still going to be in you guys' lives, so you might as well give up on all those hopes of getting rid of me," Tristan concluded.
"The Universe is punishing us," Adonis and Otis said in unison.
"At least he's not an ass." Dominick tried to lift up the mood.
I snickered as Tristan growled. "You guys are a bunch of dicks. Micro-penises."
"From the guy with the smallest one," Otis countered.
"Liar!" Tristan argued. "A shapeshifter’s got no problem in that department."
"He says proudly while admitting he has the smallest one in the room," Adonis concluded.
"How did I admit that? There were no rulers involved in this evaluation."
"Don't need one." Dominick shrugged. "Can sense the guilt a mile away."
"Stop using your fae voodoo on me." Tristan hugged my neck. "Cass. I'm being bullied."
"What am I supposed to do? Be a man and kick their asses?"
Tristan pouted. "I'll let them off cause I'm in a good mood," Tristan brushed off.
"My point is still valid." Otis turned over so his back faced us. "Wake me up when we're going out for dinner."
We quietly laughed, and Tristan gave him an annoyed look before sticking up his middle finger at Otis.
"I saw that," he grumbled, but remained where he was.
"Anyway, when do you start?” I inquired.
"Hmm, not sure. They're mid-investigation with a bunch of stuff happening across the States and even Canada, so I gotta wait. I think they're just happy to have me on board. Didn't realize I was so in demand."
"Did they tell you how many organizations had you on their list?" I asked. He walked around and moved to sit on the armrest of the couch Otis was lying on. Tugging his tie, he gave a sheepish grin.
"Five hundred."
The three of us gawked at him, and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Otis had lifted his head to look over at him. "Shut up. You're lying."
"Nope." His grin widened like an excited little boy's. "That's out of those with high enough connections to get in touch with Everett. He's was my main reference and connection control, so unless you got through him, it was an automatic no."
"That means the preliminary organizations didn't stand a chance," Adonis concluded with a sly grin. "Aww. You're actually useful."
"One day I'm so going to beat you up," Tristan warned.
"When that day comes, make sure it's on a live stage so when he kicks your ass, you can play it off as fake wrestling," Otis chimed in and relaxed against the mini pillow under his head.
"Go to sleep." Tristan side-eyed the vampire twin.
"Yeah, yeah."
Leaning back in my seat, I spun my pencil and wondered out loud, "Where's Everett, anyway?"
"Should be home any minute. He promised we'd have dinner," Dominick piped up. "That's what he said this morning before he left."
As if our conversation cued his arrival, the sound of the front door drew our attention, but even I soon realized he wasn't alone.
Please don't tell me it's who I think it is.
My once-happy smile turned into a deep frown as loud clacking heels echoed down the hall of our three-story mansion.
"Ugh." Tristan, Dominick, and Adonis let out heavy sighs.
"I'm not sleeping anymore. I died. Actually died," Otis mumbled into the pillow.
"So, no one knows a spell to get out of here? Anyone?" I tried to lighten the mood, but my bros weren't the ones to answer my joke attempt.
"Well, Cassandra Thorn. If you had a bit of magic in your veins, you would be able to do that yourself, rather than rely on us supernaturals like you must."
Cue in the sarcastic responses in 3...2...1...
The sound of the heels came to a stop, revealing an older woman with grey hair at the doorway: the grumpy head of supernatural affairs, Margaret Widow.
She was a one-hundred-year-old snake shifter with a heart full of coal and a vendetta against me. Something about me not having respect for my elders, but it was really just her.
If she was in our beloved home, that either meant she needed Everett for something or there was a huge supernatural problem my bros needed to know about for their own safety.
I don't count because I'm a weak human with a big mouth.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Widow. What a splendid day we're having," I greeted with a fake smile and a sweet voice full of sarcasm. "What could have possibly brought you to our lovely home at such an hour? I hope it isn't bad news?"
Blinking my eyes innocently, I could feel the others' approval of my overdramatic performance. None of my bros liked Margaret, and I was sure a good chunk of the supernatural race hated her guts.
She was always rude, nitpicky about the littlest things, and obviously favorited the snake shifters and any other reptiles that fell into the crawly category. I was sure she would have hated the guys if they weren't so high up on the popularity chain.
Completely ignoring me, she walked farther into the living room, which only told me that whatever she had come here for was actually serious, seeing as she wasn't continuing her beloved, 'Let's fight with the innocent human' game.
Everett finally showed up, his 6'5" frame emphasizing how short Margaret was in comparison. From his grimace and uptight body language, my gut was telling me this wasn't a good time for my sarcasm anymore.
Something's wrong...
Dominick rose from his spot on the floor, standing to my right as Adonis moved to stand next to him and Tristan rose up from the armrest of the couch to stand on my left.
Either Otis had actually dozed off or was faking it to see if this conversation was as important as it appeared to be. The tension in the room would be enough for him to determine how important this was.
"Tristan, Adonis, and Dominick," Margaret greeted before looking over to Otis. "Adonis? Is your brother going to wake up anytime soon or do I have to force him awake?"