Love Bites Then it Sucks by Julie Steimle (best self help books to read .TXT) 📕

To that, Hanz painfully chuckled.

They spent most of the evening poring over the research, trying to formulate a possible search plan for the elf, so they could in the end find Eve. They figured finding the elf to find Eve was their best shot.

“Ok, this is what I found out—” Peter said, pulling out a pile of old newspapers from his backpack. “I got this from a friend I made in London. And he said when his father was a kid there was this incident in a mid-sized town somewhere in Somerset—”

“Somerset?” Hanz was sorry he had not studied European geography better.

“England,” Daniel said.

“—in Somerset,” Peter repeated, keeping them on task, “where supposedly a university department had captured a shape-shifting being—a presumed elf. The elf took two forms while under captivity: a grown woman who was living in the area as a dirty beggar by the name of Heather Wood, and a gender ambiguous kid called Rowan.”

Hanz shuddered, wondering if any of this was real. It felt like a Bigfoot hunt.

“These newspapers contain the articles about the incident,” Peter said, laying them out on the table one by one. There were five of them. “This is why I came over. I had started to the read them and… Dan, maybe this is our elf.”

“What’s the date?” Daniel pulled up the first newspaper.

“Nineteen-eighty-six. There are also articles about Halley’s Comet, which I think verifies that this is not a fake,” Peter said. “It came around the same time.”

Hanz lifted one out of the pile. The article Peter had pointed to reported on the sabotage of bulldozers and backhoes which had been torn up by squirrels and birds while in a park area full of allegedly ancient trees ordered to be razed for the construction of tennis courts and a public swimming pool. A company that had long since gone under was in charge of the operation—MagCorp. According to the article, the CEO, Mr. Piran, had died around the time of the incident—assumed foul play, as there was no body but plenty of witnesses. But the professor involved, a Dr. Simon J. Arbor (who now had to be about eighty-three years old if he was still alive), once had samples of her hair and had done an x-ray. He had physical proof—or claimed to have—that the woman he had held in custody for almost twenty-four hours was indeed an elf. The newspaper under that one had an odd article about Mr. Piran dabbling in black magic and claimed that presumably he had a secret life as a sorcerer. It discussed the possibility of black magic and the rise of Satanism in the modern world.

“This gives us an address,” Peter said to Daniel. “304 Elfwood Street. Get that—Elfwood Street.”

Daniel laughed, his hands covering his mouth in shock. Hanz could tell he believed and agreed with Peter.

“So, we go to England and find her?” Hanz asked.

Peter nodded, meeting Hanz’s gaze.

Daniel laughed more, rising from his seat. “Yeah. This is the best lead we have had yet.”

Two knocks sounded at the door then in walked a licorice-black-haired twenty-something lady with a black cat on her shoulder. She trotted in with a, “Hey Danny boy, do you have some frozen tater-tots or something I can borrow? I want to make cheap-but-savory shepherd’s pie for Randon, and we are all out….” Her blue eyes rested on Hanz the moment she reached the desk where Peter, Daniel and Hanz were poring over the newspapers. “Have I come at a bad time? And when did you two make friends with Thor?”

Hanz blinked at her then rubbed his chin, wondering if it got scruffy from travel as he knew the rest of his hair was not long to any extent to be compared with the Norse god of thunder. He felt a bit of stubble, which would have been blonde on his face.

Peter choked on a laugh while Daniel rolled his eyes, stepping in between her and Hanz.

“This is a bad time, Silvia—and Randon,” Daniel said his eyes for some reason glaring at the cat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to just walk in?”

“I did knock,” Silvia replied off-handedly.

Hanz then recalled that Silvia was the name of Daniel’s sister—who was a witch. It was the first witch Hanz had ever met in real life—not counting the occasional Wiccan acolyte in their city, who according to Eve were nothing but LARPers. He recalled Eve’s story about being kidnapped by coven of witches back when she was in high school—and they weren’t Wiccans—but he had never been able to wrap his mind around it. Until now. This Silvia felt dangerous, in many ways more dangerous than Eve.

Silvia eyed him up, stroking the cat on her shoulder like one would expect Kim Novak from that movie Bell, Book, and Candle to. Her gaze was as intense as Kim’s, and she seemed likely to be able to perform actual magic. He heard her say, “What’s so important that we can’t interrupt?”

Huffing, Daniel led out a hand to Hanz. “He needs help finding someone. Now will you leave?”

“I can scry for his missing person,” Silvia offered.

Peter and Daniel both exchanged a doubting look, shaking their heads.

“Scry as in dowsing?” Hanz asked. “Like dowsing for water?”

Lifting her eyebrows in amusement, Silvia shrugged and said, “Similar, but not the same.”

“It wouldn’t work,” Daniel said.

Hanz looked to him.

“And why not?” Silvia asked. The cat hopped off her shoulder and landed on the desk. He then hopped to the ground, wandering toward the pizza in the kitchen, clearly smelling the sausage on it.

“The person has to be alive for it to work, right?” Peter said.

Hanz inwardly groaned, comprehending.

Silvia looked to him, a degree shocked. “You’re looking for a dead person? There’s a way to scry for that too. Easily.”

Yet Hanz realized now what Daniel and Peter understood.

“She’s not dead,” Peter said.

Casting Peter a genuinely irritated glare, Silvia propped her hands on her hips. “A person is either dead or alive—or a vampire if are going to be silly. Now are you looking for a vampire? Because I really doubt Thor here is looking for a vampire.”

“My name is Hanz,” Hanz said. “And she’s half vampire.”

Silvia paled. She took a step back from him.

“Which does not make a difference now anyway,” Daniel interjected, drawing back his sister’s attention. “I know you could scry for a vampire also, but Eve is now beyond the mortal realm, and I doubt you can scry for anything in that state.”

Silvia’s lips went white now. “You mean Eve McAllister?”

Peter and Daniel shared a look.

She grabbed her brother’s arm. “Danny! What happened to Eve McAllister that makes her un-scryable? The coven has been tracking her since forever. She can’t just fall off the map. They won’t let a vimp vanish from their sight, you know. If she did, they would be freaking out right now.”

 Daniel exchanged another look with Peter. “Really?”

Silvia nodded in earnest.

“Hold on,” Hanz said, gently nudging Silvia’s shoulder for her attention. “You know Eve?”

Nodding, Silvia’s eyes widened more on him. “You’re her fiancé?”

Hanz nodded.

Silvia covered her mouth with her hand with a sharp intake of breath.

“How do you know Eve?” Hanz demanded, realizing that Silvia could have been part of that coven which had kidnapped Eve those years ago.

With genuine sympathy, Silvia replied, “Eve and I were both Jessica Mason’s—now Cartwright’s—bridesmaids. I met her officially at the wedding.”

“Oh.” Hanz relaxed.

“Wow,” Silvia said, eying him over. “I knew she had a beau whom she was way gone on, but man, you are hot.”

“Hey!” All of a sudden, out of nowhere showed up a lean, midnight-haired guy with solid blue eyes. Hanz had no clue where he had come from, though Daniel and Peter glanced over at him with a look that said, “Really? You do this now?”

But Silvia kissed this new arrival on the cheek and said, “I’m not making comparisons, sweetie.”

“Where’d he come from?” Hanz asked the general room.

Peter coughed, looking away.

Daniel said, “Hanz, this is Randon Spade.”

Randon Spade extended a hand for a shake, which Hanz took with a firm, yet confused, grip. Randon stood a little shorter than him, but he had a healthy physique and an upright posture. Hanz could tell he was decent enough guy, though there was something odd about the way Randon moved, almost animal-like.

“Randon, the same as the cat?” Hanz said, looking around for it.

Randon grinned. “Exactly the same as the cat. I am the cat.”

Hanz was not sure if the guy was teasing him.

Seeing his confusion, Randon amended, “I came in with Silvia as the cat. I literally am the cat.”

“He’s a familiar,” Peter explained, but Hanz had no idea what that meant. Familiar with what?

“Anyway,” Randon said, “Back to your fiancée. I’ve heard about her. And you, actually. She’s a friend of Rick Deacon’s. Another friend of ours, Matthew Calamori, told me about you.”

Hanz shrugged. “I’ve met Rick Deacon, but I don’t recall your friend Matthew—though Eve has mentioned him. I do know Matthew is a good friend of Tom Brown, whom I have met.”

A smile cracked on Randon’s face. “You met Tom?”

Hanz nodded, feeling suddenly tired. It had been a long day. “Along with Daniel and his friend James.”

“Look,” Daniel interrupted. “The tater-tots are in the freezer. If that is all you want, can you just get what you need and go?”

Randon took a step back, startled.

“Rude!” Silvia cocked her hips to the side and folded her arms.

“It’s just that Hanz is more than a little overwhelmed right now, and if you can’t help… you are kind of a hindrance,” Daniel said.  

It was a bit rude to say, but Daniel was also right. Hanz felt wiped.

Daniel’s sister opened her mouth to snap back at him, but Randon slapped a hand over her mouth and said, “That isn’t the only reason we are here. Tom—” he nodded to Hanz, “—our mutual friend, sent me this weird text the other day and I am sure he meant to contact the Seven, or possibly thought about it. But I don’t think he actually did. He got caught up in some kind of crime-bust downtown with Matt. But anyway, I wanted to show it to you and, uh, get some perspective on it.”

He turned on his phone and went to his text messages, pulling up the screen. He lifted it so Daniel and Peter could both see. 

Hanz also peered over at it.

Cat – keep an eye out for vampires. I heard from a birdy a bunch have been collecting in the city. Where is Troy right now?

“Silvia and I think Tom overheard something either with the SRA or the CIA, and they are tracking an uncommon influx of vampires into New York. And that would put Troy, my best friend, at risk,” Randon said. His eyes lifted to Hanz. “But if you knew where your gal Eve was, she could handle it, right?”

Yet Daniel, Peter, and Hanz all shook their heads.

“Why not?” Silvia asked, surprised.

Hanz stared at her.

“Did you forget?” Daniel said. “Eve is missing. We don’t know where she is.”

“How did she go missing?” Silvia asked, frowning. “Are you sure you don’t want me to scry for her?”

“You can’t scry for her because she has become a death angel,” Peter snapped.

Silvia paled. And the room went dead silent.

“What’s that?” Randon asked, looking from one guy to the other.

Cringing, Silvia looked to her man, “Um… it’s basically death personified. You never want to see one as it most likely means you are about to die.”

Hanz felt sick. He did not like hearing this. The fact that Eve was taken was bad enough. He really did not want to know what being a death angel entailed as it seemed to make the distance between him and her larger. It would force him to face the reality that she was not coming back.

“Death angels range from plague carriers to your common grim reaper,” Silvia’s said. She then glance to Hanz. “Do you know this for certain?”

Nodding, closing his eyes, Hanz