Page 27 of Zombies, Satyrs and Vampires, Oh My!

I turn slowly to look at him. I blink. Twice.

His brows raise. “What? I might be technically dead, but I can still hack computers.”

“You are a beautiful man!” I yell. “What do you need?”

“Let me see your laptop,” he says.

I jump up and sit on the couch next to him so he’s squished in a Viv and Harry sandwich.

His fingers fly over my keyboard, opening applications and programs I didn’t even know I had. Then he hands me back my laptop and the typing begins on his own.

“Keep him online,” he says, nodding to my laptop.

“Right.”

Harry725: Have you given any more thought to my request to meet? I know you value your privacy, and I’m not trying to intrude. I could just really use your help.

PROF_JACE: Meeting is impossible, I’m afraid. Can you detail what the assistance is that you need?

I sigh and mentally shake my professor. I can’t help but wonder if he would be willing to meet if he knew how into him I am. Or maybe that’s why he’s not willing to meet me.

That’s a wince-inducing thought if there ever was one.

Of course, there are plenty of people who just don’t do well in person. My brother, for example.

Hoping I haven’t already scared off Professor Jace, I offer an olive branch.

Harry725: I’m pretty sure I know why you’re in hiding and I get it.

PROF_JACE: There’s no possible way you know why.

Harry725: I have a brother who I believe is similar to you.

PROF_JACE: Doubtful. Harry, please tell me what you need.

Harry725: My brother is in trouble. Someone is claiming he stole their music, but he wouldn’t even know how to do that. He’s a savant, of sorts.

Harry725:

PROF_JACE: I’m familiar with his work. That’s your brother?

Harry725: Yes.

PROF_JACE: Someone as talented as your brother will be able to explain his creative choices.

Harry725: But he shouldn’t have to. My brother is on the spectrum. He doesn’t have the skills to deal with the stress of the lawsuit and I’m worried.

PROF_JACE: Is that what you meant when you said he was like me? You think I’m on the spectrum?

Can you hear someone’s annoyance through a messaging app? Because I can totally hear Professor Jace’s biting tone in my mind.

Which is just great. I need his help and now, apparently, I’ve offended him by implying that I think he’s on the spectrum.

I take back everything I ever said or thought about wishing I could meet him just so I could flirt with him in person. Because if this is an indication of how that would go, I’m screwed.

But … I do still need his help!

After a second I start typing again.

Harry725: I’m sorry if I over-stepped.

PROF_JACE: It’s fine. But I am not on the spectrum.

Harry725: I know how you understand music composition and structure. I think you could break down the issue and the lawsuit would be dismissed.

PROF_JACE: Let me do some research. I’ll be back in touch.

Then he disconnects.

“Fuck.”

“Holy shit,” Vivian says.

I glance over at her. “What? Did I not keep him online long enough? Were you not able to track him?”

Atticus blows out a slow breath. “I was able to track him.” He slowly turns his laptop to face me. The screen has a bunch of stuff I don’t recognize or understand. But then there’s a map with two blinking dots. Two dots that are surprisingly close together.

“Harry, your professor is here,” Atticus says. “In Screaming Woods.”