Page 51 of Hawke

Simon sighed again and turned to leave. This was a business, Simon’s business, and I had to listen to what he said about not having Hawke here. Besides, Hawke would be a distraction. He already was. I was glancing back at him every few minutes to see if he was still there, ready for him to run like he always had before. But he didn’t. He stayed, sipping on coffee and drinking a mimosa here or there.

I was still mad about this morning. When the alarm went off, it was like he was shaken from a trance that had settled over him during the night. Did he think he was dreaming?

Because if he dreamed like that, I couldn’t wait until he was in full control.

But right now, I had to wait and see if he ran after our conversation later today. Because he needed to show me how serious all this was.

Chapter Seventeen

Hawke

Delilahlefttherestaurantfrom the back entrance, and I had taken up a position there in order to meet her. I saw the rest of the humans she worked with when they exited, and they all looked at me warily. I didn’t give them a second glance. They all oozed with fear, even the cooks took a wide berth around me.

I knew it was hard to wait on tables, deal with customers, and being a server was a thankless job. Any sort of service industry was tough. I was glad I never grew up in the human world, because some humans thought they were gods and deserved everything on a silver platter.

But wasn’t I born that way? I was given a lot during my childhood; I didn’t have it tough like most of my brothers. I received the best training, best food, best everything. And at one point, I thought I had it all, and I let it get to my head.

My pride was quickly shaken whenshestepped into my life, though.

Most customers didn’t care about the people who worked in the service industry. They saw servers as lower social status, as if they were just there to take their food and be done with it, but not my Delilah. She fucking shined at what she did. She took into consideration every customer’s needs. If there was a child, she made sure they were taken care of so a parent could eat in peace. If there was an unhappy customer, she made sure they were happy when they left.

Which brought me to a certain person I was getting really pissed off with.

The man with the plaid shirt and fucking overly grown mustache. Whenever he wanted something extra, like jam or butter, he would always wave my Delilah down to get it for him. He enjoyed talking to her, and I fucking hated it.

She smiled at him like any other customer, but there was a wall she had cracked after a few days trying to get him to laugh. I wanted to kill him when I watched their interactions. He was having a tantrum, but Delilah didn’t let it get to her. She tried again the next day to make him laugh.

With a camera in every corner of this restaurant, you didn’t get a true feel of the room unless you were standing inside of it. And it was fucking eerie with him in it.

There was no doubt in my mind that this wasn’t his genuine form. Although I was uncertain of the magnitude of this magical being, I was aware of its magical properties. He had one hell of a cloaking spell, and the glamour spell he had placed on himself was top-notch. If my wolf hadn’t surfaced, I wouldn’t have smelled it.

It wasn’t dark magic; it was laced with light and a bit of earth, which I knew nothing about since I hadn’t talked to any natural born earth witches and warlocks, which were few and far between.

Delilah hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and confirmed that she was all set. With a stern look, she watched me as I took it away from her.

“I can carry it. I’ve carried it plenty of times,” she argued.

Not saying a thing, I tossed her bag over my shoulder and took her hand in mine to lead her to my bike.

“You don’t carry your burdens anymore, Dede. I’m here to lighten the load.” I put her bag in one of the compartments on my bike and pulled out her brightly colored helmet. She stood on the curb, waiting, and I stood up to check our surroundings.

Across the street, I noticed the male who’d demanded my mate’s attention at the restaurant with a large cigar in his hand, twirling it as he inhaled the smoke deeply.

“What’s his name?” I jerked my head in the direction of the old man with the mustache. He rubbed out the ashes on the side of the brick wall, and the smell of smoke clung to the air as he walked down the street with his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, that’s um.” She patted her finger on her lips. “Dang it, I always forget his name when people ask me. He’s super nice, though, now. He was one of Simon’s grumpiest customers, but I got him to smile one day, and now I’m the only one he talks to.” She beamed.

Delilah had an air of optimism about her that it natural for people to smile in her presence. But the name forgetting was intriguing.

I replayed the morning in my head and not once did I hear her say his name. “Did you say his name when you were serving him?”

“Yup, loads of times. I just draw a blank when people ask for his name. Weird, huh?” Delilah took the helmet I held out for her and put it on.

I reached out to clasp the buckle under her chin, trying to find any excuse to touch her. I fastened it until it was on snuggly.

“Did you mean what you said?” Delilah asked as I hopped on the bike, revving the engine. She wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her helmet against my back.

“What?”

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