TWELVE - NYX
"You want to use a tiny green bug to figure out his identity?" Hazel stares blankly at Jez after she finishes the long-winded explanation of her plan. The entire time, she'd paced back and forth, still holding the runt on her hip. He hadn't seemed at all interested in what she was saying, nor does he seemed bothered by the constant motion of the woman holding him. He gnaws on a stiff piece of black leather. As Jez turns again, the dim light of the torches glints off it.
I almost laugh. He turned her studded hunting bracelet into a teething toy.
"What?" she looks at us in confusion. "No. Not aphid. AFIS; more specifically, IAFIS, the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System. It's the FBI and Interpol's fingerprint database. If we run Junior's prints through the system, we may figure out who he is. Someone has to be looking for him. If there's a Missing Person's report out, AFIS will have it."
"How do you know all this?" I ask in bewilderment.
"You have your guilty pleasures, I have mine," she replies vaguely.
Realization dawns on me. "No way." I laugh. "I can't believe it. My sister is a closet crime show nerd. HA!"
She glares at me with a set jaw. "And you're obsessed with science fiction. At least my shows are immediately realistic."
"Hey!" I bite back. "Space travel is an entirely reasonable−"
"Girls!" Hazel interjects. "We don't have time for a fandom war."
I blink. "Wow, Hazel," I smile. "Way to go on getting with the times. Pretty soon you'll be on tumblr and shipping your first OTP."
"I…I don't know what that means."
I pat her arm. "All in good time. Anyway," I turn my attention back to Jez, "how do you propose we do this?"
"Well, I can get to a forensics lab easy enough. And I should be able to work the tech. The only problem is making sure my search is untraceable."
"Why?"
"Well, if anyone is looking for him, they'll receive notification that his prints had been run. And as you said before, we don't know if we want him being found."
"Right."
Jez mutters something under her breath in Hebrew. "There're two people I know that could block the trace."
"I sense a but."
She sighs. "One is Sam Winchester."
"Right. That's an obvious no. And the other?"
"Charlie Bradbury. The boys' surrogate little sister."
"So…what you're saying is we either get help from a Winchester, a Winchester, or a Winchester?"
"Basically."
"You don't have a name you can pull out of your magical hat-of-many-contacts?"
"Unfortunately, no. Or, at least, none that wouldn't run off and tell some all-powerful deity of his existence, or try to exploit it for themselves. Nephilim are blemishes on Creation; we represent a rift in Order. There are some who would love to harness that power. You don't know how many have tried to kill me for it. And if any of them were to get their hands on a fledgling…" she lets the sentence hang and shakes her head. "I'll try to leave a convoluted trail. I'll teleport to the NCIS headquarters in Virginia. There's no avoiding someone finding out he's in America, but we can at least divert them from our actual location."
"We're in Hades," I argue. "We're technically in another dimension. How could anyone figure that one out?"
"If they're part of our world, it's entirely plausible."
"Ok, Little Mermaid. And what are you going to do with him?"
"He's staying here with you," she shifts the child and holds him out to me. "I'm going alone."
"Oh, dìyù no," I snap. "You're not leaving me out of another one of your adventures. Hazel can take the kid. It's my turn to ride shotgun."
Jez glances over at our other sister. Hazel shrugs. "I've had enough excitement for one day. I'll stay here." She holds out her arms and takes the boy. He lets out a cry of protest and reaches for Jez.
"Éan deas," he whines.
"Ok," Jez says. "Step one: figure out who this little bugger is. Step two: buy an Irish-to-English dictionary." She places a hand on my shoulder and the room disappears.
