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I was surprised the Marvel wasn’t arguing or coming up with excuses to leave. He seemed like he was ready to go moments earlier, but now he was introducing himself to Claire, Robby, and Mason.

“Wait a second, have I seen you somewhere before?” Mason asked Caleb, a blue-painted fingernail landing on his chin as he tried to sort through his memories.

“I don’t think so… I don’t really get out much. Just focus on work, and that’s it.”

Mason made an audible “hmm” sound before his eyebrow-less forehead wrinkled with an “aha” moment. “At Passions for one of my drag shows. I remember you now, sitting at the bar. You gave me a twenty and said I made your entire week with my performance, which honestly made me so freaking happy I almost came right there and then.”

Caleb snorted a laugh, same as I did. “I have to admit, the memory of that night is a little hazy, but now that you mention it, I do remember thinking you gave one of the best performances I’d ever seen. And to a song that actually meant a lot to me growing up.”

Mason put a hand on his chest, clearly touched. “It’s my go-to ‘outsider’ anthem song. I used to feel like I didn’t belong for the longest time, but then I found my people, and I keep finding more of them.” He put an arm around both Claire and Robby, resting his head on Claire’s shoulder. “And these are some good people.”

Caleb looked around at us as we settled into the living room. Robby sank into his spot on the couch, the seating area arranged around a sunken floor, an expensive white-and-black marble round coffee table in the center. Caleb’s eyes flicked in my direction, a smile growing on his face.

“I’m sensing that,” he said, looking away from me and at one of the large tapestries hanging on the stone wall, showing a scene of the Pacific Ocean with two dragons flying in the distance, a handful of sea creatures rising up from the gently sloping waves.

His acknowledgment of Mason’s statement warmed my heart, and that was difficult to do with how frosted over it usually was.

Claire grabbed her velvet black satchel and dug her hand in, much deeper than what the satchel looked to be able to fit. “It’s a carry-all bag,” she explained. “Fits things as big as me to as small as—“ she plopped a stack of white cards on the table. She then whisked a hand, maroon red threads of mana forming and floating into the remaining deck. The thin red strands drew out five cards each and floated them to our hands. She sat down cross-legged on the gray-and-yellow Persian rug, her bright pink socks popping against the softer colors.

“Wait, before we start and I forget about this,” Mason said, setting the cards down on his lap. “I want to invite you all—you included, Caleb, especially since you’re my number one fan—to my Walking on Water party. I’m throwing it for my drag daughter’s birthday. Water’s her thing. It’s happening in a few weeks, and I’ve been practicing my number for months now. If you love drag, you definitely don’t want to miss this.”

“What’s a Walking on Water party?” I asked, always the skeptic, even though I did love a good party, especially if it meant getting wet.

“It’s meant to be a night where you leave all your worries at the door, honey, and you feel as light as if you were walking on water.” He gave a wink and picked up his cards, already giggling at his hand. “Oh, and I’ll also be taking all tips electronically.”

“Sounds like fun,” Robby said, and to my surprise, Caleb agreed. I guessed he really was a big drag fan.

Damn, he was giving me more and more reasons to like him by the second.

“I’ll need to get your info so I can tip you, then,” Caleb said.

Mason laughed and waved a hand in the air. “Oh, babe, don’t you worry about it. I’ll have that shit blasted all over the party.”

“Can’t wait.” And Caleb sounded genuine about it too. His smile grew wider, his face lighting up. Such a contrast to the grumpy and closed-off detective I was dealing with less than an hour earlier.

I liked this version of Caleb a lot more.

“Alright, should we get started?” Claire asked, drawing our attention back to our cards. “I’m going to take one from this white deck and place it on the table. It’ll be a prompt, and we have to match one of our five cards to it. Whoever gets the best one—funniest, most scandalous, horniest, etc., etc.—wins and chooses someone to ‘enchant.’ That person then draws a card from the ‘enchanted’ pile, which has both good and bad effects. Got it?”

“What are some of the effects?” I asked.

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