Page 13 of Hex and the City
Of the many things my tutors and mentors had taught me, beyond the spells and the intricacies of magic, it was the importance of keeping a clean and functioning home that really stuck with me the most.
The same held true of taking care of my body. I couldn’t be at my best if I didn’t sleep well, exercise, and eat right, and I couldn’t do any of those things optimally without an optimal home. But I glanced around my apartment and breathed a heavy sigh. Everything that needed doing had already been done.
I could’ve spent the day seeking out other contracts, digging up jobs from the other spiders, except that I knew how jealous Vera could get. The spiders were protective of their territory, as well as their favorites. I liked to think that I was among the Jade Spider’s favorites, even if she was a bit pissed at me at the moment.
My lips pressed together as I held in a curse, not that there was anyone else in the apartment to offend. It was all that damn kid’s fault. Leon, was it? Just barely steps away from the velveteen bag, and he had to chicken out at the last minute.
If he’d grabbed the bag before that other person did, I could have wrestled it out of his grasp, overpowered both of them and cut a clean escape. But no. Instead I had to mope around at home, wondering why some random goggle-wearing stranger in a gimp suit was there to snatch the bag first.
“This is the worst,” I told my empty apartment. “The worst.”
I loved this place, spent more time here than anywhere else. One bed, one bath, and a very spacious living and kitchen area. Furnished to my liking in dark neutral colors, decorated with metallic accents.
A silver letter opener at my desk, next to the brass pen, what I used to take notes when I did my homework. Research, naturally, about upcoming jobs, collated information I could hunt down on the internet. It was where I did most of my reading, too. Thrillers, some mystery novels, but mostly nonfiction titles about productivity.
But I was all out of books, and all out of things I could tolerate on television, too. I’d burned through my daily workout, prepped an entire week’s worth of meals — breakfast, lunch, and dinner, thank you, for seven days. I’d even run two loads of laundry, folded them, put them away.
And now it was dinner, one of those prepped meals already pulled out of the fridge and freshly nuked in the microwave. I poked at the mound of herbed and buttered potatoes, at the sirloin tips that I would normally have been so happy to eat. I enjoyed routine, predictability. I was the biggest homebody I knew.
But falling out of favor with my very best contact in Dos Lunas wasn’t part of the program. Leonardo Alcantara, wherever the hell he popped out of, was not part of the program.
My lips drew back in annoyance as I remembered his self-satisfied grins, how he’d reached for the dregs of my cocktail and sucked on the ice chips. Was that supposed to be some kind of power play? Because it looked more like he was thirsty, and too cheap or lazy to order something for himself.
Out of everything else that had happened that night, somehow I couldn’t forget that one irritating gesture.
Slamming the glass back into the wet circle where it was sitting, licking his lips with the soft pinkness of his tongue. Drawing attention to his mouth, to how his throat bobbed as he swallowed, how he swept at his lips with the back of his hand and grinned yet again?
Why did it all bother me so much? How his eyes twinkled as he stared me down, like he was enjoying himself so much, like he was enjoying what he was seeing.
How our lips had kissed the rim of the same glass.
“Fuck,” I breathed, dropping my fork on my plate in disgust, letting it clatter as loud as it would go. I ruffled my hair in frustration. Last thing I needed was some random finder getting on my nerves, confusing me with his sloppy smiles, with his pretty, punchable mouth.
I reached for my phone, already consulting my mental black book, digging up the names and haunts of the other local spiders. And then the screen lit up, a message from Vera, like she somehow knew I was just about to cheat on her. Just coincidence, probably. I hoped.
Magical anomaly spotted downtown. Lunata Park. Our thieving friend experimenting with contents of bag? Get down there before the Masques do.
Finally. Fucking finally. My fingers flew across the screen as I typed out a response, asking what the anomaly looked like.
I peeled away from the kitchen counter so fast I almost knocked the bar stool over. I raced toward the front door, grabbed my keys, then my leather jacket from its hook. Out the door I went, straight toward the stairwell, too excited to wait for the elevator. And Vera said it herself. Time was of the essence.
Was I too excited? It wasn’t a job, exactly, but it was something to do. And doing it would ensure that I’d continue having access to a steady stream of jobs from Vera in the future. I’d never know why she seemed to have the most challenging and lucrative gigs to offer. But the good thing was that I didn’t need to know why.
Sometimes it comforted me to believe that there was a kind of symbiosis to our relationship, a bond of mutual benefit. Her clients knew that she hired only the very best finders in town to seek out their acquisitions. Having guys like me in her stable kept her business at the top of its game.
Or so I liked to think.
But thanks to Leonardo, that bumbling newbie, the Jade Spider had taken a hit to her reputation. Even the rarest of gemstones could lose value and luster when their perfection was chipped, their clarity dulled. I had to make this right.
Did I need the money? More or less. Well, more than less. I was accustomed to a certain lifestyle. A high thread count for my bedsheets, an imported Japanese facial serum to keep parts of me supple and soft. Because even the gruffest among us could benefit from a regular moisturizing routine.
A second message came, an answer to my question.
You’ll know it when you see it.
Ominous. The anomaly was that noticeable? Bad news. More reason for regular people to gather around and ogle, and more reason for the Masques to step up the pace and get there.
I didn’t know if Vera was somehow tuned in to the arcane underground’s version of police chatter, but again, the woman had an unparalleled network of both informants and information. Chances were she knew about the anomaly before the Masques did.
