Page 29 of Elixir of Strife
Leon tugged on my jacket. “We should probably leave before this gets any uglier.”
“Okay, but one thing first,” I said, hand shaking as I pulled up a contact on my phone. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
I held it up to my ear, praying that the ringer would stop, that someone would pick up on the other end. Between the raucous anger of the newly awakened chefs and Divina’s wailing, it was a wonder I could hear anything over the phone at all.
Finally, a click. Someone answered. I spoke into the mic at the top of my voice.
“Hello, Masque guy? I’m calling to report a magical crime.”
13
LEON
Max massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers, the perfect sphere of ice in his whiskey making a melancholic clink each time he raised the glass to his lips.
He looked like someone who’d lost a bet, or more accurately, someone who thought he’d lost the last shreds of his dignity. He raked at his hair, mussing it as he pushed it out of his face, tousling the locks and somehow making himself even sexier. Was I hallucinating, or did I just have a weakness for sad, broody boys? Maybe it was both.
“I feel so dirty,” he grumbled. “We’re finders. We’re the guys who go in and steal the artifacts. In and out like shadows, get the job done. No muss, no fuss. What have I become?”
“You didn’t become anything,” I told him, hands cupped around the warm glow of a fresh caramel macchiato. “You’ve always been a decent guy, and you did what any decent guy would do. Those poor people were abducted. This way, the Masques can help them go home.”
A cadre of Masques had popped in — almost literally, in fact, teleporting to our location, a full-on arcane raid. A handful of them cast a mass sleeping spell over the dining room, knocking out the normals and making sure we had no mundane witnesses.
Some careful psychic manipulation helped them convince Divina’s captives that they had, in fact, made the terrible choice to come work for her. Divinity was shut down on the spot. There was, however, no sign of Divina Brillante. She’d somehow made herself scarce in the process.
But still, we helped all those people, freed them from her tyranny. Looking at Max, you’d think we’d left them for dead instead. He rubbed at his hair again, his face almost gaunt, his eyes haunted. In his leather jacket, his hair messed just so, I imagined him sitting on a concrete sidewalk, broken and beautiful and despondent in the evening rain.
Wow, I really had problems.
And sure, kind of weird that he didn’t bother to tell me about this possible deal with Divina and the olive — kind of important for a work partnership, especially in a business as potentially dangerous as finding. What else could he be hiding? But hey. I didn’t tell him about the dragons either. We were even. Probably. Hopefully.
“Seriously. It’s okay.” I felt for the back of his hand, traced the length of his fingers, the strong peaks of his knuckles, and squeezed once. “I still think you’re a bad boy, Max.”
“That’s not what this is about.” He pressed his lips together tightly, rubbing his shoulder as he glanced up at me through his dark lashes, so raw you’d think he’d just been roughed up in a bare-knuckle fight. “But — you really think so?”
I grinned, giving in. “I know so. You’re a good bad boy. The best bad boy. Leather jacket and all.”
Beside us, sitting at the same table, Tina stuck her tongue out and retched. “The two of you are disgusting.”
Max shook his head. “Very close-minded of you, Tina. Tsk, tsk.”
“Oh, please.” Tina rolled her eyes, reaching for a cocktail peanut. “I’m literally bisexual, as if you needed reminding. And I was there when you sucked your first dick. Standing guard. Outside the door.”
“I didn’t tell you to!” Max said, loud enough for heads to turn.
From behind the bar, Johnny threw the pair of them dirty looks. Over on one of the leather sofa sets, Roscoe nudged up his glasses, chuckled, and returned to his book.
Max wagged a finger at her. “And no more of that. You’re not supposed to be my bodyguard anymore.”
She popped the peanut in her mouth, made a face, and spat it into a napkin. “Not like I have a choice. I’m still on the payroll.”
He blinked. “You mean Mama’s still paying you to watch my back?”
“More like they forgot to cut me off. I mean I still show up at Casa Brillante sometimes, shuffle my feet, pretend I’m earning my keep.”
“That’s time theft,” Max said. “You’re — Tina, I can’t believe you. That’s unethical.”
I forced myself to sip on my coffee before I started laughing out loud. Max really couldn’t help it. Sure, he liked to look all gruff and edgy on the outside, but he couldn’t deny that he was a soft, sweet goody two-shoes on the inside. Part of why I liked him so much, probably.
