#never thought I'd write a story with 'human trafficking' in the tags but here we are

[ice-cap-k]

xB Noir in Hybrid Theory

Not me trying to turn what should be a multi-chapter fic into a one-shot because I don't have time to commit to a long-form fic. I would never...

Oh well. My sleep schedule is already toast anyway.

Cross-posted on AO3 here: xB Noir in Hybrid Theory

_____________________________________________

The rain pressed down an unrelenting torrent that pooled in the roads and left rivulets running down the window pane. Nobody in their right mind would walk these streets in this weather.  It was downright dreary out there. The kind of downpour that soaked through your best coats and set the chill in your bones after only a few steps. Its constant pitter-patter was pleasant on the ears.

And there I was, watching the storm through my office window when they decided to pay me a visit. The single bare bulb was more than enough to cast light on the two figures I saw approaching. They were skirting the edge of the building, trying their darndest to avoid what they could of the rain. Unlucky souls, to be out in that mess. At first I thought nothing of it. Just another couple unlucky enough to be caught in the rain on their way home. But then they slipped into a familiar doorway and the bell chimed. I had customers.

The two who stumbled through my office door that day were quite the pair. The woman threw open the door first. The rain hadn’t seemed to have done much to dampen a fire burning in the depth of her eyes. Bright as the orange of her hair poking out from beneath the brim of her hat. All it took was one look at her to know that she had come here meaning business. 

Her partner didn’t hold a candle to her in comparison. His suit was disheveled and his eyes roamed the room behind his spectacles like an animal caught in a trap. 

“We’re here to speak to a Detective xB.” Her voice was clipped. Self-assured. I could make out a little disdain as those fiery eyes raked over my measly office. What can I say, it was a mess. I was in between cases at the moment and most of the paperwork had been laid bare to be sorted out later. Or maybe she didn’t approve of how small it was, although I never needed much room for anything more than my desk, a few filing cabinets, and myself. 

“That’s my name on the door. At your service, Miss…” I wasn’t sitting, so I offered up my chair for her to sit on. There was only one, so her partner would have to make do. 

“Cleo. No miss. We’re all adults here.” She slips into the chair without so much as a blink. Those eyes are staring me down. Scrutinizing my every move as I set down the drink in my hand down on the corner of my desk. “And this is Joe.” The other man in the room tipped his hat before sliding behind the back of her chair. Fingertips rest against the leather backing. They’re twitchy. His eyes looked everywhere except at me. He struck me as the nervous kind, this Joe. Like a tinker toy wound up too tight, ready to pop into motion the moment you let go of the key.

Even his voice comes out sounding strained. “We were told that you were good at-”

“We were told-” Cleo cut him off. “That you were good at your job. From a handful of sources, actually. So we thought we’d meet you firsthand.” There was an edge to her voice. A fine line of scathing disbelief lurking beneath her words, made evident by the tilt of her brow. “You see, Detective, we’ve got something on our hands that requires a certain level of trust. Considering how highly recommended you were, we decided to come here first. But before we disclose anything about the potential case, we need to know how much we can trust you. Do you understand?”

“I think that’s a fair request.” I rounded the file cabinets, and prepared to pull out logs on previous cases. They must have heard about me from one of my previous customers, after all. Advertising for the local paper was out of my budget range. The business survived on word of mouth and good customer service alone. “I could go over some of my previous cases and some of my methods if you like.”

“Not that, actually.” Joe finally stopped his fidgeting and looked at me, really looked at me, as he took the hat off his head. “Although I’m sure that you have a perfectly fine track record. We’re talking about sensitive information. Can you be trusted with it?”

“Joe-” The angry hiss in the woman’s voice was not lost on me when the gentleman cut her off.

“No Cleo.” My hand dropped from the handle of the file cabinet. I was too engrossed in the power struggle between the two of them through exchanged looks. If I were to bet on the winner, my money would have been on redhead with the withering glare. To Joe’s credit, despite how uncomfortable he seemed to be at the thought of disagreeing with her, he gripped the rim of his fedora and buckled down. “I trust Beef. I have a really good feeling about this and I don’t like taking chances with our time.”

Now that was a name I hadn’t heard for a while. The last time I’d seen him had to have been the game shop case years ago. “You know Beef?”

“He’s a friend of ours,” Cleo huffed. She was glaring daggers at Joe, who had stepped away from her chair to put some distance between the two of them. “And it’s not a risk that’s yours to take, Joe.”

“No, but the longer we wait, the worse I feel about the situation.  I’m worried sick.”

“Well so am I.” 

They both fall silent.

I’m reluctant to intrude, but they don’t seem interested in starting back up the conversation. “So I gather it was Beef that sent you my way…” I spoke slowly, afraid I might startle them, or invite their wrath. “I don’t know what you folks’ situation is, but I can assure you that I am a professional. Beef can testify to this. Confidentiality is part of the reason I’m still in business. More information is valuable for understanding a case, but if there is something that you feel you can’t tell me, there’s no problem leaving out the finer details.”

They both exchanged a look. This time, when they made eye contact the frustration fizzled out. It was more of a shared look of helplessness. “It’s a pretty important detail,” Joe said, his voice so quiet I almost couldn’t hear.

Cleo looked like she wanted to argue, but eventually relented with a tired sigh. “Alright. Alright. I’ll leave out some of the finer details and give you a rundown on what we would like to hire you for. If I decide you’re worth the money, we’ll tell you everything. If I don’t, we move on with our lives like none of this ever happened. How does that sound?” 

I nodded. It was perfectly reasonable. Joe was nodding as well. He looked relieved as he sidled back up to his place behind her chair. The fedora in his hands looked hampered from the abuse his nervous fidgeting had wrought upon it. 

“Glad we are in agreement.” 

“So,” I prompted, leaning back until I was seated upon the corner of my desk. The mountain of papers beneath me threatened to come down in an avalanche of black and white print, but I could manage to keep the balance. Other than that, they had my full attention. I was downright intrigued. A case where the client didn’t feel comfortable kicking it off was new. Usually, people were chomping at the bit to tell me about the problems and how they needed him to fix it. So I leaned in as she folded her gloved hands in the lap of her pencil skirt.

“So indeed. Tell me, Detective, have you heard any of the stories on the recent disappearances?”

“You mean the hybrids?”

“Yes. The hybrids. How much do you know about them?”

“Only what they print in the papers.” It was a story that hadn’t quite made the cover, but had appeared in multiple journals across town. ‘Local Mutants Gone Missing.’ An influx of missing person reports had been made with one notable similarity; everyone reported had been some sort of hybrid. The kind of hybrid didn’t seem to matter. All sorts were going missing. Everything he read on it had boiled down to a general consensus: that nobody in the police department had an explanation. “What about you?”

“To start, I know that our friend is one of the names on the list of missing persons. And when I tried going to the police, they brushed it off.” She scowled at the memory. “Told me that I couldn’t file a report on him since he was an adult who had every right to go off the grid if he wanted to, except I know for a fact that he wouldn’t do that.”

“I see. So you need someone like me to find him?”

 It seemed simple enough. I had run more cases than I could count tracking people down for one reason or another. They were usually the harder puzzles to crack. If someone was able to cover their tracks so completely that even their friends and loved ones were left scratching their heads, it would be difficult to look for places nobody else had thought to check. And if it was a matter of kidnapping, that added an extra layer of potential risks.

“I need you to find the people who took him and find out why. Gather evidence. Bring him back if possible, but if you can’t then at least get me something that will make the police believe us.”

“And preferably report back your findings as you go.” Joe chimed in. “To us, I mean. Maybe not anyone else. Actually, nobody else. Just in case. We need to know anything you might find out about these guys. Where they are, who they are, what they are, how you found out all of it... Everything.”

Usually, my customers didn’t care about the details of his work, so long as by the end of the day he dug up the information they were looking for. “That sounds like you’ll need a pretty thorough report. To be clear, I’m going to need as much information as you can give me on your friend if I’m going to find him. I’m talking about his name, the names of the people in his life, where he lives, where he works, where he frequents. And just to be clear, that means information on you two as well.”  Joe nodded along as I listed everything off. Cleo frowned, but there was a grim understanding in the way her lips tightened into a thin line. “I’d understand if that doesn’t suit your fancy. I can try to work with whatever you’re willing to give me, but any fact you choose to leave out could make a world of difference. Any detective out there worth his salt will tell you the exact same thing.”

Joe reached over to nudge her shoulder. “See Cleo.” 

“And will any other detective out there worth his salt risk leaking sensitive information on his clients.” Her tone made me smile. She’s softened a bit since she first walked in. There’s still that air of warning, that look of scrutiny, but now there was room to be convinced. 

“I’m pretty good at keeping secrets. Beef could probably attest to that. Selling out potential customers never struck me as a good business model.”

The odd pair shared a look, then a nod. It seemed like they were on the same page. “Alright. What I am about to tell you stays strictly confidential,” she says. “Nothing I’m about to say from here on out leaves this room. Afterward, you can decide if you’re interested in the job or not. If I find out later that you’ve told someone else, I swear I will personally come for you.”

I didn’t plan on sharing whatever they planned on telling me anyway, but the way that fire in her eyes turned on me… I don’t know why, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she had a way of making good on the promise. But I waved it off like no big deal. “Cross my heart.”

She still didn’t look fully convinced. “To start, the friend we are looking for, his name is Bdubs. He is part phantom, although you’d never know by looking at him. He’s really good about staying on top of his sleeping habits, so that side of him never really comes out. I brought a picture if that helps.”

I snatched up a pen and pad from under a pile of papers. This was all good information to keep track of. The picture she handed me depicted a man with the biggest, most genuine smile I had ever seen. By all means, he really did look human. It would be enough to do some cross-reference searches and dig up any information I could get on my own. 

“The thing is, Bdubs didn’t really broadcast his hybrid status, but someone still found out. However, that information became known to his kidnappers is pretty important to me and Joe here. Almost as important as making sure he’s alright. Which is why I said we would need you to report all of your findings and how you found out.”

“And may I ask why that information is particularly important to the two of you?”

Joe opened his mouth to say something, but Cleo answered first. “Oh, it’s mostly just important to me.” With a roll of her shoulders, her coat slipped down her arms to reveal lines of long thin scars puckered and discolored where mismatched flesh had been sown together. Some skin patches were even starting to green with early onset rot. It surprisingly didn’t smell as unpleasant as it looked. “I’m an unregistered zombie hybrid. If they could somehow manage to find Bdubs, I’m worried that it won’t take them long to find me next.”

______________________________________________________

“xB! Hey man!”

“Hey bud, it’s been a while.”

Hypno was waiting for me at the bar with the leatherback stool already pulled out. The sun was setting, the birds were chirping, and people were out enjoying their evening anywhere other than this dank old bar. But to me and Hypno, it was the perfect meeting place. Just as enjoyable as the fresh air outside. Our old stomping ground when we were younger. 

“Sorry about keeping things so short on the phone. I’m glad you could make it out here.”

“No problem, dude.” I could tell by the smile on his face that he meant those words. He looked as happy to see me as I was to see him. “It’s been too long since you’re last call. I was starting to think you didn’t need me anymore.”

“No man.” The bartender walked by, and I held up two fingers. They spotted my signal and slid two fresh glasses down the countertop. They both came to rest directly in front of us. “You know I’ll always go to you first about cases. I’ve just been going through a bit of a dry spell. Haven’t had a new job in a while. I couldn’t pass up a chance to get to the bottom of this one in particular. You’ve heard what’s happening to the hybrids around town, right?” The pop of a new bottle opening punctuates the end of my sentence. The two glasses are filled with a clatter of ice and a level of translucent brown. 

Hypno grabs his first. He always was the bigger drinker of the two of us. “Heard of it? Pfft. It’s all the gossip column is talking about these days. Not that there’s anything more they’re allowed to put to print yet. It’s all wild speculation right now. One guy I’m working with is convinced the hybrids aren’t even disappearing.”

“And what’s the alternative?”

“Not sure. He never goes into detail when I ask.”

“What about you?”

He laughed at that one. “What about me, dude?”

“Do you have any thoughts on what’s happening? Why hybrids? Why so many, and all different types? I have a few of my own ideas, but I’m curious about what you think.”

“I don’t know. There are a lot of reasons why people would be interested in hybrids. Seems like there are always going to be people out there who think that just because hybrids aren’t human, that means they aren’t people either. They can do all sorts of things normal people can’t, and you can’t rule out those crazies that are always coming up with some hair-brained remedies made with ‘exotic ingredients.’ Or exotic pets… ew. You know what? Scratch that thought. I hate that my brain even went there. What about you and your new client? Any running theories.”

Of course, I had my theories. And Cleo had made it clear her running theory was ‘kidnapping’ even if she didn’t have a clue what could possibly be the reason behind it. Under normal circumstances, I would have happily shared some of these thoughts with the man at his side. It was Hypno, of all people. He was practically my partner considering how often he helped me with investigations. But Cleo and Joe had been clear about the need for confidentiality. 

“It’s too early to rule out anything right now.”

“Darn.” He didn’t sound all that disappointed. “By the way, here’s the pictures you asked for.”

The manilla envelope he slides my way is bulging. Stacks of them come sliding out when I slide the flap open. “I didn’t realize there were this many people missing.” Static faces stared up at the overhanging light fixture from the waxy printout. Some of them looked like your average human like Bdubs had. Unassuming smiles and eyes that gave no indication of the truth of the person behind them. Most, though, had some clear indication of what they were. They wore oddly colored eyes, extra limbs, and discolored skin that almost looked like the result of some camera defect rather than something they lived with on the daily. There were blazes, creepers, avians, even an enderian. That one had to have caused problems for any ‘would-be’ kidnappers. The names of the victims were scribbled on the back of each photo, along with the phone number of the person who had submitted it. Presumably, the person who had reported them missing.

“This is just what I can get at my job. Working for the tabloids has its perks, but there are plenty of people on the list that didn’t get a photo submitted. Some of ‘em didn’t have people left in their lives to report them or send in photos. There’s a few that had family members who outright refused to send in photos.”

“Really?”

“Really. You should have heard them over the phone. They didn’t want their friends or family found. Talking to those people was the worst.”

“Sounds like it. Thanks, Hypno. This is a huge help. I can start building a background on some of these people and see if they have anything in common.”

Hypno smirked. I had known the man for years, so I knew when a Hypno smirk is just a smirk, and when a Hypo smirk meant business. Right then, he meant business. “Think I can help you there too, man.” I lifted my brow, but Hypno knew he had me hooked. He relished in it, making me wait as he raised his glass to his mouth. I took a sip of my own drink as I waited for him to drain his glass. “Aaaaah.” Clank. He brought the glass down onto the counter with a clatter. The bartender promptly filled it back up. “I’m a journalist, B. You know I do my research. What if I told you I already did some digging?”

“You have a lead?”

“I have a place.”

“How?”

“Same way you would eventually find out,” he said with a shrug. I asked as many people as I could about the people in those photos. Their favorite places to go, where they worked, where they lived, the whole spiel. You know the one.”

I nodded. Of course I did. I was the one who taught it to him. 

“Well, the more I asked around, the more one place in particular popped up in people’s backstories. Ever visit Hermit Row?”

I shook my head. The place didn’t ring a bell to me. 

“No shame in that. I didn’t know about it either, but that’s because the two of us are human. Apparently, the street is the biggest hub of hybrid activity in the city. Think along the lines of a Chinatown. Even if the people in those pictures didn’t live there, they had all visited at one point or another. It’s one of the few places in town with shops catering to a variety of non-human needs. Sounds to me like the perfect place for any potential kidnapper to scope out someone to grab. It’s actually going to be the subject of my latest article now that I’ve had a chance to learn a bit about it.” 

And there it was. That was what the sudden smugness was all about. It made sense that Hypno had another angle he was looking to write into a story for the papers. “I can’t report back details of the investigation if I go there. You realize this, right?”

The smile dropped off Hypno’s face. “Come on, man. I literally just gave you everything we have at the press on the Hybrid story. Is it really that bad to give me a little insider scoop?”

“My client is very adamant about the need for privacy. I’ll let you know about any general observations I might happen to make, but anything that pertains directly to the case is off the table.”

He sighed in annoyance. “Fine, I guess I can work with that.”

_________________________________________________________

I know I’m not the biggest partier around the block, but even I knew that brass knuckles weren’t part of the dress code for your average bouncer. And weren’t bouncers supposed to stand guard at the front of an establishment?

It had taken a week to investigate Hermit Row. Learning the ins and outs of the residents. Picking up on some of the familiar faces of the hybrids who frequented and getting a feel for the shops lining the street. I didn’t even stick out like a sore thumb like I was afraid I would. Other people walked the streets in broad daylight looking completely human like me. There was no way to know for sure they were actually human, but at least nobody stared at me like an oddball out of place as long as I minded my own business.

The street was awe-inspiring to me. At least somewhat. They had shops for things I would never have thought to dream of. Storefronts selling horn and hoof polish targeting sheep and ram hybrids had displays painstakingly set up in their large windows. Wing grooming salons advertising the latest toiletries had their doors open for incoming customers. Even the food stalls with their owners crying out their wares carried everything from charcoal to fresh grass bundles. And yes, the owners of said stalls insisted their products were intended to be eaten. I suppose I had never put much thought into whether or not hybrids would subsist on a different diet than me. 

But there were few places where most of the people who looked like normal humans tended to frequent. Especially late at night. One of those places happened to be ‘Club EX.’ To the untrained eye, it was your typical late-night dance club, complete with a jazz band and under-the-table sales of alcohol. You’re typical hole-in-the-wall people frequented to forget the rest of the world. 

But after a few nights of careful observation, it became clear that there was something else going on here. Odd back door dealings where workers met with important-looking customers and led them to back rooms to discuss business of some sort. People slipping out of the back alleyway, rushing into a van left parked back there every night. I spent one night counting every person who entered the building, only to come up three people short when it came to keeping track of everyone who left. It was entirely possible I had miscounted, but unlikely. 

I told Cleo and Joe about it in my last report. Went into detail about everything I noticed on Hermit Row and the club in particular. Cleo had taken the hint and steered clear of the establishment, but now I was looking for specifics. There wasn’t any easy way to sneak in on one of those private meetings with guests who came in with a large entourage and all the money in the world to burn. I could stake out the back, though, where an unusual-looking bouncer was running their thumb along the edge of the metal lining their knuckles. 

He didn’t move for a while. I watched. I waited. Eventually, the back door flung open. Two figures came out into the alleyway. 

One shouting nonsense hysterically. Hooves click clack against the pavement. Garbled words and sounds muffled under a black bag covering their head. They couldn’t exactly reach up to take it off, considering the knot of rope binding their arms behind their back.  I could make out a tail swishing back and forth in wild panic, but it didn’t seem prehensile. It would do them no good to get them out of the bind they found themselves in. 

The other person was shoving them forward harshly. 

“Will you shut him up already,” the bouncer hissed at the other man passing through. “Someone’s gonna hear.” 

“I already tried gagging him and look what good that did me. Why don’t you knock his lights out for me and make both our lives easier.”

“Fine.” With a snort, the bouncer reeled back and slammed his fist into the black back, directly where a cheek or nose would be. Shivers ran down my back as his target let out a muffled howl of pain. Another blow to the head, and their legs crumpled beneath them. 

At that point, I wasn’t thinking to clearly. I just knew that the guy with the brass knuckles was squaring up for another hit and I didn’t have the stomach to watch no more. So I pulled the pistol out of my pocket and slid from the roof down the gutter to the ground below.

Luckily for me, I landed directly behind the second man who had come out with the man on the ground. I threw all the force I could muster into bashing the but of my gun into the back of his skull. He was instantly out like a light and dropped like a stone. The bouncer turned on me, confused and scowling. “Why don’t you pick on someone who can fight back,” I goaded. 

And he took the bait, hook, line and sinker. Never mind whether or not he realized that I had a gun. There was no hesitation as he rushed at me, fist at the ready, golden glint of the knuckles catching the lamplight. The edge of his fist caught the edge of my shoulder. Pain bloomed where it crushed my muscle and tore the skin, but it was a glancing blow. With the other hand, I fired once at the ground. The bullet blew a hole in his shoe. Not sure if I took off a toe or something, but I definitely hit him, because he let out a howl that rivaled that of the man with a bag over his head. He leaned over, instinctively reaching for his wounded foot. It gave me a clear opening to slam the butt of my gun into his head too. He joined his buddy and slumped on the ground.

“Awwww yeah.” That had been surprisingly easier than expected.

A groan came from a few feet away. “Are you okay,” I called, not really sure of the man they had beaten could even hear me. His tail was still twitching, but he didn’t stir from the ground. “Here, let me try to help.” I gently pulled at the edges of the bag. The seem caught on something on the way up, and when the fabric came clear I realized it was because the threads had caught on the edge of a set of horns poking out from a head of light blond hair. The face they framed was a bit bloody. The skin below his eye was just starting to develop the purplish hue of an oncoming bruise. The bottom lip was split, leaving blood pooling around the base of a rag tied around his mouth. I managed to undo the knots on his mouth first, then got to work on his hands.

He coughed at first. Then spit to get the flecks of blood and taste of the rag out of his mouth. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know who you are, but I could never repay you for what you just did.”

“Don’t worry about it. What was even happening? Why did they want you, uh…” 

“Zedaph,” the hybrid clarified as the rope fell away from his wrists. There were nasty marks where the fibers had dug into the skin, and he rubbed at them as if it would make them go away. “My name’s Zedaph.”

“Well, do you know what they wanted with you, Zedaph? It looks like you might have made the wrong people mad.”

“Well if I did, I don’t know what I possibly could have done. I just came here looking for my friends. The last time I saw them, they had come here to celebrate some new project at work. No luck finding them, so I was heading towards the exit.  Next thing I know, security is pulling me away saying there’s someone important who wanted to see me. They drag me in a room, won’t let me go as some weirdo gets a good look at me, and then next thing I know they’re tying my hands behind my back without so much as an explanation.”

“They were dragging you to that van…” I helped him up. He was still unsteady on his feet, er, hooves, but as long as he could rest his hand against my shoulder to lean on when his legs started to wobble, he could manage to walk. “One second while I take a look.” 

Sure enough, the van was unlocked.

Bingo.

__________________________________________

The amount of evidence I had to report to Cleo after that had been immense. Notes of names and species crossed out on lists had been tucked away in the glove box, along with a map with a location circled along the harbor. 

And guns. Turns out those men had guns of their own, and I had been lucky that they had been foolish enough to leave them in the vehicle. 

Most of it had to be turned in to the police for obvious reasons, but not before I had given everything a thorough look-through. It would take the precinct officials to properly process the evidence. Even longer to get the warrants to act on it. Although Zedaph's testimonial would help to speed things along.

The sheep hybrid was the first witness to come of this. An actual hybrid that had almost been made to vanish like the others was quite the font of information. That made him valuable to the officers working on the case. It also made him a dangerous loose end for whoever was behind this. Up until now, there was no real understanding as to ‘why’ hybrids were going missing. Now that Zedaph had gotten away, all eyes and ears were on the lookout for potential snatchers. That club was currently closed for an ongoing investigation

 Zedaph had at least been kind enough to tell me everything he could on the way to the station. He told me in better detail about the men who had grabbed him. How they had been human. I tried asking him if he was sure they weren’t just hybrids that looked human, he insisted he had a sense for these sorts of things. I took his word at face value.

The person whom they had brought him to, though, that was a different matter. He couldn’t really tell. There was no way to see their face. It was hidden behind a mask. Their body was fully clothed, complete with a set of gloves that covered their hands. Not even an inch of skin showed. The voice was difficult to make out considering the mask. “Possibly modulated.” Those were Zedaph’s words. Not mine.

Considering all the clues now at my disposal, I figured my next lead was the location circled on that map. I could feel it deep within my bones that there was where they had been planning on taking Zedaph. That was likely where the other hybrids had gone as well. 

Again, I went at night. There were fewer workers at the dock past sundown. The boats were gone for the night. The empty warfs reached out into the water, waiting for the next fleet of ships to arrive with a load of cargo.

The harbor itself was massive. Shipping crates were stacked up along the sea’s edge, leaving temporary alleys winding between rows and rows of steel boxes. 

I didn’t know where to start, so I just picked a random warehouse and started walking towards it. There wasn’t much to see there besides more crates and spare boat parts, so I kept going to the next one. And then the next one after that. And then the one after that.

Honestly, there was a lot of ground to cover here and I was already starting to get tired. I was just starting to consider calling it a night and coming back tomorrow when I heard something that sounded a little out of place for the harbor this late at night. Talking.

“Hurry up before someone sees you.”

“Lighten up, will ya? Nobody’s going to see me. There’s nobody out here but us.” 

I followed the voices into the maze of stacks of shipping crates. Would they post guards at a shipping storage lot? It didn’t seem likely considering the lot didn’t even have so much as a chain link fence. 

“Come on. X is looking at the merchandise tonight. They want to make sure everyone is healthy before they run the first shipment on Friday.” 

“What are they going to do at the auction anyway?”

“Whatever the buyer wants ‘em for. Everyone loves hybrids for one reason or another. Not my business to find out what that reason is.”

Hybrids, huh? 

It sounded like I was on the right track. 

_____________________________________________________________________

I picked up a copy of the local newspaper the day after. 

The front page story declared, ‘Devious Gangster Evil X Behind Hybrid Disappearances.’

The big picture they had used depicted three hybrids embracing in front of the police department. Two of them had a set of horns, though their shape and location on the skull varied between both people. The third had glowing red eyes and what looked like fire flickering at the ends of his spiked blond hair. I recognized Zedaph’s bruised face and curved horns, but not the other two men in the picture. They must have been the friends he was looking for back at Club X. I was glad that it had all ended up working out for the three of them.

Sure, I had given Hypno a quick call about what had happened to all the missing hybrids, but I never expected him to be able to work this fast. It was quite impressive actually, seeing just how detailed and accurate the article was. Hypno didn’t just work fast. He was thorough. He truly was a professional.

I tossed it across my desk for Cleo and Joe to read for themselves. “Just to be clear, I might have told a friend that I found where they were hiding everyone. I did NOT provide any details regarding you, the case, or how I found where they had been hiding them.”

Cleo picked up the paper. She was shocked. Truly shocked. She flipped each page with careful hands as if afraid of ripping it. 

“You did all this?” Joe asked, leaning over her shoulder to get a look. “It wasn’t just Bdubs you saved last night… you really found all of them?”

“I did.”

“Wait a minute,” Cleo said, pulling the paper closer to her face. “It says here that Evil X wasn’t apprehended.”

“They did not.”

“So he is still at large?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. That wasn’t an answer I had at the moment, but I could probably figure it out if I had enough time. “But his entire trafficking ring was overturned in one night. And your friend is back home safe and sound. Everyone else for that matter. Maybe I’m just a glass-half-full kind of guy, but to me, that sounds like a pretty good way for things to have panned out.”

Cleo didn’t say anything. She turned back to the paper with a frown. At least Joe patted me on the back. “Why, I couldn’t agree more.”