A fifth man stumbles in, shot straight from the frat house. Cropped lilac hoodie revealing a thick trunk and chiseled abs, curls in his mullet wild, gray sweatpants low, chewing a long piece of red liquorice.
He skids to a halt, blinks at the room, then zeroes in on me like he's spotted a unicorn mid-lap dance.
Ezra sighs so loudly it might actually be a soul leaving his body.
"Jax," Corrian growls.
"Sorry, daddy." Jax mutters, not even remotely sorry, mouth full of sugar and mischief. He grins, wide and wicked, then turns back to me.
I'm still frozen. Mouth slightly open, possibly rebooting.
Jax's smile goes nuclear.
He drops to one knee, a knight from a streaming reboot, takes my hand with mock ceremony, kisses it with a flourish, and says, completely deadpan.
"And who, pray tell, is the walking sex cloud who summoned me from my sacred nap?"
Shit. No way I am getting out of here without trauma or orgasms, probably both.
Corrian kicks off his spot, standing to full height. Every other man shrinks back an inch, including Jax who drops my hand, stands and sidles up to the ghost leant by the door. It looks, for a second, like he nuzzles into the assassin's shoulder.
The heat is making me hallucinate.
Ezra speaks, pulling me from my spiral.
"So this is her?" he asks, barely glancing at me.
"This is her," Corrian says, nodding.
Ezra eyes me over the rim of his cup. "She's smaller than I expected."
"Rude." I snap back.
I am not small, I'm nearly 6 feet tall in chunky boots. But he's a bit right, I do feel small surrounded by men almost a whole foot taller than me.
Ezra just grins over his cup.
"So," I squeak out. "This is turning into some kind of…very niche cult recruitment. I'm just gonna," I flick my thumb over my shoulder at the door.
Corrian steps forward, the movement sending more warmth firing towards me. He hands me a piece of paper. A quick glance, I see it's a contract.
"We'd like to offer you the job. Effective immediately."
I blink. "Wait, I haven't even answered any questions yet. I don't know what this job even is."
He cannot be serious right now.
"You're a fit for it. I'm sure." Corrian says smoothly.
"But you haven't even,"
"Here's the starting salary," Ezra interrupts me, tapping at his tablet before turning the screen towards me.
It's double what the ad promised, five times what I've ever made in my life.
"This a prank?" I snap, temper that's been building from the whole, overwhelming, shit situation finally bubbling over. "I'm on one of those weird shows where the host jumps out and tells me I've been hired to babysit feral pigs. Or do you all just get off on fucking with me?"
They all react at once. Jax whines and starts to move towards me, the assassin puts an arm in front of him, holding him back.
Viking growls, but doesn't move. Ezra smirks, Corrian somehow makes himself look even bigger.
"It isn't a prank." Corrian says smoothly, eyes locked on mine. "We have a job opening. I am an exceptionally good judge of character, and believe you will be the perfect fit for the role."
He steps closer, towering over me now. Energy flowing off him in waves.
"We aren't trying to trick you, Frankie."
I open my mouth. I close it. The way my name sounds in this mans mouth is criminal, and totally unfair. Something strange is happening here. I don't know what or why. But I can't make myself say no.
Shit.
"In or out, Frankfurter?" Jax chimes in, bouncing on the balls of his feet, willing me on.
"…Okay," I say slowly. "I'm in. For now."
The assassin's lip twitches, a ghost of a smirk, the first expression I've seen on him.
It's not comforting.
Corrian doesn't say anything dramatic. No congratulations or secret handshake, no "welcome to the team." He nods once and pulls a pen from his trouser pocket. He hands it to me and nods towards the contract sat on the table in front of me.
I glance down at it. Blank spaces, a signature line. Why does this feel like signing for more than a job? But, what am I gonna do, call a lawyer?
My fingers are shaking a little as I sign. Not because I'm scared, because I'm not.
Corrian takes the paper wordlessly, walks to the far corner of the room, and opens what I thought was a supply cabinet. It's a safe. There's no keypad or dial, just a palm reader. He presses his hand to the surface and slides the contract inside, closes it, and when he turns back, it's like a switch flips.
"This is Leo," he says, nodding to the Viking. Leo just grunts in response. Helpful.
"Ezra." The one with the smirk and the tea who already looks like he regrets letting me sign anything. He offers a curt nod and nothing else.
"River." The shadow. Still watching me, still not blinking.
"Jax," Corrian adds, with the vocal equivalent of an exhausted sigh.
"Hi!" Jax beams. "We're gonna have so much fun until someone gets hurt and / or emotionally attached!"
"Too late," I mutter.
Corrian ignores us both and gestures toward the door. "I'll show you the rest."
He's already out the door by the time I can scramble out of my seat. I trail behind him, turning to the side so I don't accidentally brush against River.
As I step into the hall, Jax bellows behind me.
"Oh shit, SNACKS."
I follow Corrian through the daycare and try not to stare too hard. The vibe is part Montessori, part secret government project. I've still not seen a kid yet, but can almost feel them in the walls. The cubbies are filled, the lockers are labeled.
"The children we take care of. They're special," Corrian says as we pass the reading nook with oversized bean bag chairs and a shelf full of books no normal toddler would read. I catch one title, 'Teeth Are Not for Biting (But Sometimes They Are)'.
I raise an eyebrow. "Special how? Like, gifted? Or gremlin?"
He ignores me.
We pass a hallway lined with artwork. Crayon drawings, finger paints, but some of them are odd. Red scribbles in circular patterns, shapes that look more like symbols than animals. One has a giant black figure drawn with scratchy lines and tiny words underneath it. I lean closer.
"The Bad Ones Are Coming."
Awesome.