Page 57 of Pointy Ears and Purple Glitter
“Fighting for our home,” Tynan murmured, his voice growing sleepy again. “Our territory.”
“Our future,” Malik added softly. It had a nice ring to it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The meeting with Grok was set for the next evening. Tynan adjusted his cuffs nervously as he and Malik prepared to leave the workshop. They’d spent the day securing the place as best they could and organizing the evidence from Hayley’s flash drive into something coherent they could present to Grok.
“Are you sure about this?” Tynan asked, watching Malik lock up the back entrance. “Using a crime boss to fight our battles feels...”
“Pragmatic,” Malik finished for him. “Grok understands territory and respect. Garrison violated both.”
Tynan nodded, though his stomach remained knotted with tension. His magic had been acting up all day - not the erratic surges of before, but a constant low-level hum beneath his skin, as if preparing for something.
“Do I look human enough?” he asked, running a hand over his glamored ears.
“Perfect,” Malik assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Remember, we’re not telling Grok about the paranormal angle. I wouldn’t put it past him to blackmail us about that for the rest of our lives. This is just about Garrison muscling in on territory and Mrs. Cooper’s corruption.”
“Right.” Tynan took a deep breath. “And you’re sure Grok will respect the neutral location?”
“The back room at Finnegan’s was his suggestion. Private, quiet, and technically outside both our territories. He’s bringing two men, we’re bringing evidence.”
Sparky, perched on Tynan’s shoulder, ruffled his feathers. “And I’m bringing my intimidating presence.”
“You’re staying in the car,” Malik corrected. “A talking raven could be one distraction too many. We’re trying to appear normal.”
“You’re discriminating, that’s what you’re doing,” Sparky muttered, but didn’t argue further.
The drive to Finnegan’s Pub took them through parts of town Tynan rarely visited - the spaces between territories where authority was ambiguous and alliances fluid. The building itself was unassuming, a weathered brick structure with a faded sign and blacked-out windows.
“Charming,” Tynan commented as they parked in the alley behind the pub.
“It’s not about charm.” Malik checked his watch. “We’re ten minutes early. Good.”
After settling Sparky in the car with strict instructions to stay put, they entered through the back door. A burly man with a neck thicker than Tynan’s thigh checked them quickly, nodding when Malik gave his name.
“This way,” he grunted, leading them down a narrow hallway to a heavy door.
The room beyond was simple - a round table surrounded by six chairs, a small bar in the corner, and no windows. Malik immediately positioned himself so he could see the door, guiding Tynan to sit beside him.
“Is this what all clandestine criminal meetings look like?” Tynan whispered, trying to lighten the mood.
Malik’s lips twitched. “More or less.”
The door opened again five minutes later, and Grok entered, flanked by two men whose expressions and bulging jacketssuggested they were armed. Grok himself looked impeccable as always, his suit crisp and his shoes polished to a shine.
“Malik,” he greeted with a nod. “And Tynan, the PI. Interesting circumstances bringing us together.”
“I appreciate you meeting us,” Malik replied, his tone neutral.
Grok took the seat across from them, his men remaining standing behind him. “You said this concerns Garrison and territory violations. I’m listening.”
Tynan placed a folder on the table, sliding it toward Grok. “Alexander Garrison has been operating in this city under the guise of a security consultant, but his real agenda is much broader.”
Grok raised an eyebrow but opened the folder. Inside were carefully selected documents from Hayley’s flash drive - financial records showing payments to local figures, emails discussing “cleansing operations” in specific neighborhoods, and a map of the city with territories marked, including those Grok controlled.
“Where did you get this?” Grok asked, his casual demeanor dropping as he leafed through the papers.
“A confidential source,” Tynan replied. “Someone who was close to Mrs. Elaine Cooper, Garrison’s primary financial backer.”
