The whiteboard mocked him save for the one word circled in black dry-erase marker. Maskborn. Who were the Maskborn? Why did they want control of Ivorhaven? Why the attack on live television? Did magic have the power to change the world? Silverbolt couldn't answer any questions without more information. He needed Constance or Evelynn to fill in the blanks. Given how busy the other men kept Constance, the elder Reynard was the safest bet. He decided to speak to the production staff to expedite the search. It couldn't hurt to see footage of the attack, either.
He knocked on the white door of the production trailer and waited. A nerdy man with thick glasses and an oversized headset answered the door. "You're not supposed to be here. The execs will have a fit."
"What's your name?" Silverbolt crossed his arms and didn't move.
"Dennis Midgely."
"I need to see footage of the attack, Midgely."
"Why?"
"Isn't obvious?"
Midgely shook his head. "I could lose my job. Besides, all the attackers are in the custody of the local police. We had to give all the relevant copies away."
Wham! Silverbolt punched the trailer. The entire structure shook from the force of his blow. "Can I talk to Evelynn?"
"Evelynn is getting some gowns sized. She won't be back for a day or two."
Silverbolt paced for a moment. "I need to know more about the Maskborn. How did they get by security? Did they use magic to do it? If so, does that make everyone on this property sitting ducks?"
"The police think it's an isolated incident."
"The police couldn't find their ass with compass and a map."
"Why not ask Constance?"
"Because the guys get territorial and weird." Silverbolt twirled a baton around his fingers. "I don't want to deal with Rhett again.
"Well, you may have to," Midgely said while he adjusted his glasses.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you know about the group date? Constance will issue a challenge to the men, and the winner gets a romantic evening with her tomorrow night."
"Isn't there an easier way? Can I leave to shake down the usual suspects?"
"As long as you're marked, you can't leave."
"Is the challenge my best option?"
"It's your only option."
Silverbolt rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you have some clean clothes?"
***
The suit glared at Silverbolt from the bed. It taunted him and rubbed its necessity in his face. It came down to one question. Was the info worth it? Worth it or not, the group date was the only card he had to play. A soft knock on the door barged in on his thoughts.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Constance."
"Give me a minute."
He calmly walked to the door and opened it a crack. "Is there something I can do for you?"
A strained look appeared on Constance's face, and her body tried to press the door open. "I need a break from the other men. Can I stay here."
His eyes went from the suit back to the door and the suit again. Silverbolt saw a small window of opportunity to acquire the information he sought. He allowed Constance to enter.
"Listen, I have some questions about the Maskborn..."
Silverbolt watched in horror as Constance's hands covered her mouth in surprise. "You have a suit." She turned and stared. "You were going on the groupdate?"
"Whoah." Silverbolt put up his hands. "I need more information about the Maskborn. Your mom wasn't around, and I couldn't leave. That left you as the best source to acquire the information."
"You planned to participate in the challenge?"
"That was the idea. I can't knock the other guys out, we'd both look bad. Although if Kildare is coming, that might happen anyway."
"I see."
"We can avoid any potential mishaps if you tell me about the Maskborn," Silverbolt prayed she'd talk.
"Does that mean you'll still come on the group date?" Constance asked with a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"That's the beauty of my suggestion. I wouldn't have to." Silverbolt gestured to the door.
"But you have the suit already. It'd be a shame if you didn't wear it." She said. "I'd feel safer if you were there. I caught one of my bodyguards playing a game on his phone."
"I'll come because you have the information I need."
"Then I guess you're coming on the group date." She held the button-up shirt to his chest. "The color suits you. Be ready in an hour." She headed to the door.
Silverbolt blocked the door. "Constance, I'm doing this for selfish reasons."
"Is it selfish?" she pulled him aside. "I suppose a more self-centered woman would see it that way." She twisted the knob and pulled the door open. "However, you're dedicated to discovering the motivations of the Maskborn. How is that Selfish?"
Constance vanished into the hall. Silverbolt banged his head against the wooden slab. "How did that get turned around?"
***
The limo pulled up to a park. Flowers of sizes and descriptions lined beds with lush green ferns and a pond with koi and ducks. A table with old Polaroid cameras waited for the group of assembled men. Constance's dress fluttered like butterfly wings in the wind around her knees. She held up and envelope.
"Gentlemen, this is your first challenge." Her smile brought devotion from the line of males. "Like flowers, love takes time to bloom. You will receive a camera, and your mission is to create a photographic bouquet. The winner will earn themselves a romantic evening with me tomorrow night."
The men rushed to the cameras and shuffled off to take pictures. Silverbolt waited for them to leave. He glared at Constance before he grabbed the camera. "I look stupid."
"I think it's an improvement over the armor. I'm having someone clean it by the way. It was rather ripe." Constance wrinkled her nose at the thought.
"Why are you making me do this?"
"You know why. I have the information you need."
A bright flash followed by the whir of Silverbolt's camera halted the conversation.
"Why did you take my picture?" Constance asked.
"I hope it'll inspire me to make a decent photo bouquet..." Silverbolt halted his words. "Is something I would never say out loud."
"You do now."
"Nor will it happen again."
"I thought it was sweet."
"I find myself thinking that way around you..." Silverbolt stifled the words with his hands. "I mean, I should get started. Can we pretend this conversation never happened? It's not good for the tough guy image."
"I might, but the world will remember forever." Constance pointed to the camera focused on them. "I think your inner romantic is charming."
"Me and my big mouth." Silverbolt stalked off to complete the task at hand.
***
Silverbolt stared at the picture of Constance. He compared flowers to her personality and facial features. He would not accept anything less than perfection with the bouquet. In between photographs, Silverbolt reviewed his last verbal exchange with Constance. He had to admit a few things to himself. He was attracted to her. Silverbolt wasn't sure how it happened.
The acrid scent of sulfur and smoke brought Silverbolt to the present moment. A deep voice rasped. "So many morsels, so little time." The horrid stench grew closer.
Silverbolt instinctively reached for his weapons. His hands grasped air. "Why did I leave them behind?" The voice spoke again.
"Why do I smell thunderstorm? There are no clouds?"
Instinct took over, and Silverbolt scurried up the nearest tree. Bark bit into his palms, and sap stuck his fingers together. Needles scratched the bare skin and left white trails. Silverbolt stopped halfway up. The acrid odor now consumed his sense of smell and forced tears from his eyes.
A black muscular lupine figure entered the area. The head was more skull than fur. Fiery blue eyes glowed in the sockets while smoke poured from the fanged maw. It lifted its great head and sniffed the air. "Hmmm, perhaps the storm is unseen. Is that a hint of human I detect?" The lupine horror sniffed the ground. "Barghest can smell you, morsel. Where are you hiding?"
"There you are." The black fur lit up around the throat area. The head looked up in Silverbolt's direction. "Such a predictable hiding place for predictable prey." The wolfish creature reared back its head and breathed a cone of blue flame. The fire left blackness behind while it consumed the tree trunk in seconds. "Come meet your fate, morsel."
Silverbolt launched himself from the tree and dropkicked the beast across the head. It tumbled into a ball of fiery fur. "It's about time something interesting happened."
A heavy fist knocked Silverbolt back toward the pond. "It is you that reeks of thunder and lightning." The beast rose to his feet. A long blue saliva-covered tongue licked its jowls perversely.
Silverbolt crashed into a tree and slid to the ground. The creature's punches had some power behind them. He couldn't walk away from the fight. Constance was in danger. "Here's to screwing myself over."
Silverbolt went on the offensive. He tried a simple combination. Barghest caught his fist and slammed him into the ground. "Oh, you aren't like the other weaklings, are you, morsel?"
The air rushed out of his lungs, and Silverbolt bounced a few feet closer to the pond. His arm burned with intense pain. Every attempt to move it increased the feeling. Two of the contestants stood slack-jawed, frozen in fear.
"Get Constance out of here," Silverbolt shouted while he squared off against the horror. "I'm far from finished." he charged forward. He ducked under a claw and smacked another away with his good hand. A vicious kick caught Barghest in the privates.
The beast's eyes almost left their sockets, and Barghest dropped to his knees. Crack! Silverbolt followed up with another kick before the lupine foe could recover. The harsh smell of sulfur wafted out of its dislocated jaw. Silverbolt gripped Barghest's throat.
"Fear the thunder and flash of Silverbolt," he shouted. A mass of static electricity rolled down his arm. Bargesht convulsed and writhed in agony from the attack. Ten seconds later, the beast went still.
Barhest wouldn't stay down long, and Silverbolt wouldn't survive a prolonged conflict with his injury. He limped back towards the limo and prayed the others made it to safety.
***
"Don't just stand there. Fix him," Constance shouted to the medical team.
"He has two broken bones in arm, and we have to reset them before we can proceed further. Silverbolt may need Surgery." A medic said in a calm, collected tone.
Silverbolt sat up. "Reset the bones. They'll heal over the next couple of days."
"It takes weeks for bones to heal," The medic argued.
"I'm superhuman. I heal faster than most."
The medic held his arm, "On the count of three!" he said. Snap! The bone moved back into place. "Three!"
A sick sensation gripped Silverbolt as he tried to hold back the bile in his throat. "Hurry up and tape it," he said. His words slurred from his mouth. A few minutes later, the medics had a thin cast over his arm. Silverbolt stared at Constance and asked, "Can you tell me about the Maskborn now?"
"...couldn't find their ass with a compass and a map." I may use that one...
This is good: Wham! Silverbolt punched the trailer. The entire structure shook from the force of his blow. "Can I talk to Evelynn?"
"Evelynn is getting some gowns sized. She won't be back for a day or two."