(ACT 02) Of half-bloods and half-answers

. . .

“When you’re in love, you’re capable of learning everything and knowing things you had never dared even to think, because love is the key to understanding of all the mysteries.”

—Paulo Coelho

. . .

ALASTOR NYX:

It was kind of a surreal moment for Alastor, being in a hotel room with two of his closest and oldest friends having a video call, of all things, with a demigod turned monster-hunter (who should have been dead ten years ago) at least an hour after the mysterious mercenary's short call.

The demigod who called himself ‘Nick’ looked like a regular mortal man at first glance. No telling or any sign of his godly parentage.

If one would have spotted the demigod somewhere in a crowd, they would have initially thought of him as one of those young college professors… or a lawyer with his well-put demeanor or maybe it was just the glasses that made him look like a classy nerd in Alastor’s opinion.

Nick just had that smart, calculating look in his unnervingly bright, silver-gray eyes that made Alastor think of a snake pretending to be asleep but had actually been eyeing a potential prey… before gobbling them up whole in one go.

Okay, you know what, maybe not.

But the way the demigod was looking at each and every one of them, like they were some sort of mathematical equation puzzle or a rare type of species he just absolutely needed to punt under a magnifying glass and figure out... was kind of unsettling and irritating, to put it bluntly.

It makes Alastor feel like some sort of freak.

“You guys are quite early…” Nick murmured, one eyebrow rose as he scanned their faces, before his gaze landed on Alastor, “One of my... subordinates called and said you have a problem with a god, northern alpha?”

Alastor tried not to wince at the title.

“Uh, not really a problem…” Sean muttered, coughing a bit.

“Well, what’s the issue then?”

Alastor crossed his arms; he didn't really know why but he was beginning to like this guy less and less, “What do you know about Proserpina?”

As soon as Alastor uttered the name, those bright eyes narrowed in clear interest, long fingers interlacing in front of Nick’s face as he leaned forward to the screen, looking scarily interested, “Oh...? You picked a fight with the underworld's heir? Very stupid,”

Harry snickered behind them, and Alastor gritted his teeth, not wanting to give too much away, “No. I just needed information about her…”

“Why?” Nick drawled.

Alastor frowned, “Because I said so…?”

“Yes, but why?”

“It's important.” Alastor insisted as he glared at the demigod, half-wishing to punch him in real life and half-wishing to punch the screen out of spite... because while he didn’t really think of himself as an alpha, everyone in his pack sure did and Alastor wasn’t really used being declined or questioned especially by an obnoxious half breed, but then again, Sean might end up punching him if he somehow breaks the laptop.

Those eyes of silver glittered.

“Why?”

“It's for the good of my pack.”

There, a half-truth.

In the eyes of their elders, Alastor settling down is a sign of maturity, which means he’ll finally take his so-called duties seriously and judging by the way Sean and Harry nodded at him agreeably made Alastor confident with his answer… but the demigod seemed unimpressed, and somehow, at the same time, still looking amused.

“Why?”

Alastor growled.

The demigod sounded like a broken record! Why, why, why–? “Why? Well let me tell you why–because I'm her fucking mate, YOU TIMMY NEUTRON REJECT!” Alastor finally roared, itching to strangle…!

Harry stared at him, open-mouthed.

“Fuck…” Sean muttered, dejectedly.

Alastor paused in sudden realization, his face instantly turning a shade of white. Oh, fuck. Oh, no. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit–!

But the demigod just let out a short, scoffing laugh, looking a bit smug (instead of getting offended) like a cat that got the canary—or the cream, whatever works—as he coughed in his fist and half-turned away from the camera, one of his shoulders trembling visibly on camera with barely-restrained laughter.

Of all the things Alastor expected right now (shock, disbelief, I don’t know maybe disgust), being laughed at didn't really cross his mind.

Oh gods, this is embarrassing.

He almost wished the demigod got angry.

“…I knew it!” Nick huffed as he threw his arms up victoriously, now grinning like a Cheshire cat as he leaned back on his seat.

“Wait, what?”

Harry curiously peered over on the screen, “What do you mean, you knew? Are you some sort of mind reader? Whose kid are you anyways?”

“Athena,” Nick answered, looking exasperated that he had to actually answer that, as if that alone wasn't obvious enough and... and Alastor wanted to face-palm right there and then because of fucking course it just had to be bright-eyed Athena; the Goddess of war-craft and wisdom.

Damn it.

“...and no, your friend—oh, sorry—alpha over there is just way too damn obvious. I’ve seen alphas act less smitten than him. Oh, wait. Were you guys actually trying to hide that little tidbit? It was a secret?” Nick gloated flippantly and Alastor glared at him, feeling his face burn in sheer embarrassment at being played so easily, “Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble but you guys are shitty liars.”

“Touché…” Harry laughed.

“So uh, are you going to help us or not?” Sean asked; a half-baked attempt at getting the conversation back on track before Alastor explodes.

“Sure. Why not,” Nick smiled; a knowing smug smile that looked like he was enjoying some sort of private joke, “Like I have anything better to do today other than playing match maker for a goddess and a wolf.”

Alastor deadpanned, “Was that sarcasm?”

“Was that stupidity?”

“Hmph, I’m picking up the sass…”

“Don't act so high and mighty. You know you're the one asking for help, right?” Sean chided under his breath, glaring over at Alastor.

“Yeah man, give four eyes some credit!” Harry said, looking too amused.

Alastor scoffed but said nothing, leaning back on the couch while Nick smirked, fixing his glasses for a moment, “So… what do you want to know about your unlucky lady?”

“Everything,”