well what you look like,” she said tartly, resisting the urge to smile back at him. He oozed charm too easily. She might not know much about kelpies specifically—and she hadn’t had time or breath yet to look anything up—but she knew enough to be suspicious of any male that charming, human or otherwise. “Look, just look straight ahead and smile for the camera, and let’s get on with this, okay? Or are your looks more important than saving the world?”
“And do you want us to have to tell AJ your screwing around cost us time?” Toba added.
That got Martin to behave, and he managed a few shots that Jan was able to crop into usefulness.
“Some of the sites like to match you up with people based on their own algorithms. We’re not going to worry about those—it would take too long and I’m guessing the preters figured that out, too.”
Also, they tended to be the ones that cost. She thought again about adding them, for fear of missing where the preters might be hunting, and then thought about how quickly that could add up. Somehow, she didn’t think they were going to fly as business deductions, and “saving humanity from preternatural slavery” didn’t have a check box on the tax forms, last she’d looked.
The scattershot approach across the free sites would be enough to start. She hoped.
Jan finished up the accounts and hit Send for each of them. Three accounts male, three female, one each to three different sites. This way, they could each run two, and split the work. She was assuming that skinny, silent Blue wasn’t going to be much help. Then again if he—it—was working the protections they were talking about...
Yeah. Leave it alone, let it do its damn job.
“Now what?” Martin looked over her shoulder again, fascinated. “Do we have to wait?”
“Oh, no, you get to play right away.” The thought of turning Martin loose on a dating site was both horrifying, and hysterical. “First, though, I want to check something.”
Bracing herself, she opened the male-based IDs and went searching for “Stjerne.”
Some of the sites didn’t let you search for someone specifically, but the freebies were less discriminating. Stjerne apparently got around: she, or someone with a similar name and email—was on all three sites, with the same profile.
She read the profile out loud. “Am tired of sitting here alone, looking at everyone else having fun. Looking for a guy who is ready to take a risk and live dangerously.... I’ll make it worth your while.”
“No, seriously?” Jan shook her head, even as she studied the picture on the site. Redheaded and glamorous, like a human Jessica Rabbit. “That’s not real. I mean, even more than airbrushing or enhancing, that’s so obviously not real. Not that any guy is going to stop and think about it. Not the kind of guy she’s trolling for, anyway.”
Her Tyler had fallen for that. She supposed that if she, with her green eyes, had been exotic to Tyler, a redhead would have been even more so.
“She’s got her prey,” Martin said, his hand resting on her shoulder. “She’s not hunting right now. There’s no point in baiting the hook for her.”
Jan tried to imagine Tyler’s reaction. Had she approached him? Had he contacted her? “How faked is this? What do the preters look like?”
“Human, mostly,” Toba answered. “Most of us do, like Martin, here. There’s a theory that we’re all from the same clump of genetic goo, all the supernatural species, and humans, too, and just evolved differently.”
“You believe in evolution.”
“You don’t?” He mimicked her surprised tone perfectly, to the point of mockery.
They stared at each other, and she let out a little surprised laugh, and then Toba followed suit. Martin rolled his eyes.
The creature standing in the corner, seemingly staring through the walls at what might lurk outside, ignored all three of them.
* * *
He was starting to lose track. Of time, of self, of everything.
“And do you want us to have to tell AJ your screwing around cost us time?” Toba added.
That got Martin to behave, and he managed a few shots that Jan was able to crop into usefulness.
“Some of the sites like to match you up with people based on their own algorithms. We’re not going to worry about those—it would take too long and I’m guessing the preters figured that out, too.”
Also, they tended to be the ones that cost. She thought again about adding them, for fear of missing where the preters might be hunting, and then thought about how quickly that could add up. Somehow, she didn’t think they were going to fly as business deductions, and “saving humanity from preternatural slavery” didn’t have a check box on the tax forms, last she’d looked.
The scattershot approach across the free sites would be enough to start. She hoped.
Jan finished up the accounts and hit Send for each of them. Three accounts male, three female, one each to three different sites. This way, they could each run two, and split the work. She was assuming that skinny, silent Blue wasn’t going to be much help. Then again if he—it—was working the protections they were talking about...
Yeah. Leave it alone, let it do its damn job.
“Now what?” Martin looked over her shoulder again, fascinated. “Do we have to wait?”
“Oh, no, you get to play right away.” The thought of turning Martin loose on a dating site was both horrifying, and hysterical. “First, though, I want to check something.”
Bracing herself, she opened the male-based IDs and went searching for “Stjerne.”
Some of the sites didn’t let you search for someone specifically, but the freebies were less discriminating. Stjerne apparently got around: she, or someone with a similar name and email—was on all three sites, with the same profile.
She read the profile out loud. “Am tired of sitting here alone, looking at everyone else having fun. Looking for a guy who is ready to take a risk and live dangerously.... I’ll make it worth your while.”
“No, seriously?” Jan shook her head, even as she studied the picture on the site. Redheaded and glamorous, like a human Jessica Rabbit. “That’s not real. I mean, even more than airbrushing or enhancing, that’s so obviously not real. Not that any guy is going to stop and think about it. Not the kind of guy she’s trolling for, anyway.”
Her Tyler had fallen for that. She supposed that if she, with her green eyes, had been exotic to Tyler, a redhead would have been even more so.
“She’s got her prey,” Martin said, his hand resting on her shoulder. “She’s not hunting right now. There’s no point in baiting the hook for her.”
Jan tried to imagine Tyler’s reaction. Had she approached him? Had he contacted her? “How faked is this? What do the preters look like?”
“Human, mostly,” Toba answered. “Most of us do, like Martin, here. There’s a theory that we’re all from the same clump of genetic goo, all the supernatural species, and humans, too, and just evolved differently.”
“You believe in evolution.”
“You don’t?” He mimicked her surprised tone perfectly, to the point of mockery.
They stared at each other, and she let out a little surprised laugh, and then Toba followed suit. Martin rolled his eyes.
The creature standing in the corner, seemingly staring through the walls at what might lurk outside, ignored all three of them.
* * *
He was starting to lose track. Of time, of self, of everything.
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