"What did you think a sugar daddy was?” I wondered after a moment. “A father who buys candy for people?"
"No!” He blushed and stared down at his orange juice. “I knew it wasn’t literal, I just hoped for, I don’t know, something more fun. Why iseverythinga sex thing?"
I shrugged. “Don’t know, just is.”
The guy was all there mentally, he just had some catching up to do when it came to the world at large. The DSA had rescued him from some shitty situation where he was possibly raised by evil werewolves in the wilderness or a supernatural cult in a secret bunker or something like that.
“Were you raised by a cult of evil werewolves in the wilderness?” I asked.
“Nope.” My latest guess about his secret identity didn’t even faze him.
The guy wasn’t super forthcoming about the details of his past, but he was good people. And some gaps in his history were apparently still a mystery to even him. That was why he called me for help looking into some things.
I told him about my findings at Bliss. “I found your supposed relic at Bliss. Do old-ass sex handcuffs count as relics?”
His eyes widened. "This is a sex thing too?"
"Why else would a sex club want them? At least they’d get use because otherwise the cuffs were junk.”
"Are you sure?" he asked quietly, going back to concentrating intensely on his OJ.
“Most of us mages got started by recognizing magic in the world around us. If it’s there and I reach for it, I should find it.” The guy looked so glum, I had to soften the blow a bit. “If the magic is hidden or dormant, it’s possible to miss. But we’d still need a way to wake it up.”
And we’d need the cuffs. But this lead did not look promising enough for two guys with less than five bucks to their names to convince the clan at Bliss to give us their questionably valuable handcuffs.
Max took the news pretty well after he had a moment to process, even giving me a genuine smile from across our table. "Thanks for trying.” He scooped up his menu again. “Should we have breakfast?”
"Sure. I got some time.”
Max and Agent Frost of the DSA were supposed to be looking into his past during their free time, but he thought the angel was stalling. He also couldn’t investigate himself because Frost would know. Max did not sayhowthe agent would know, just that he would. So, he hoped sending me out to snoop for him would lead to answers without tipping off Frost. He wanted something solid, something Frost couldn’t ignore, before bringing the agent up to speed with our off the books investigation.
He seemed happy to have breakfast with me, yet I had to ask. “You don’t mind being seen with me?"
"Huh?” Bless him, the question stumped him for a moment before he waved it off. “Oh, I’m not, like, officially affiliated with the DSA. I work in a freaking supernatural coffee shop, dude."
An odd place for a guy who hated coffee, but since it seemed like his first job ever, he loved working there.
"What about your mate?" I asked. Aaron and the big boss were werewolf married, but Max settled down with agent and fox shifter Lysander Temple. I wasn’t sure how he felt about his partner being seen with me.
Max wore a white button-down shirt, the kind Lysander Temple might wear to work. It probably belonged to the agent, though it fit Max better than it would have when we first met. He’d been pale and impossibly thin but now he looked healthier and had some color on his face and in his dark hair and eyes. His skin was a few shades darker like he spent a good chunk of his free time outside, but mood wise he looked brighter than ever.
"Lys knows much better than to tell me what to do. I make my own choices. You’re my friend,” Max said. “That’s all there is to it."
"Cool.” I took a sip of coffee to fight the sappy smile threatening to appear on my face. “Wasn’t sure we were getting along, seeing as you basically threatened me to meet youor else."
"What? No, I didn’t! I was just reminding you, not threatening you."
Whipping out my phone, I showed him exactly what he said.You better not be ignoring me or you won’t like what happens next.
“Oh.” He fiddled with his napkin, sheepish as the tone of the messages sunk in. “I just meant… Look at what I can do now.”
Everybody’s clothes changed around us. From the staff to the patrons, they were all wearing the same clothes as before, but each outfit now sported the words ‘call Max’ over and over, all in different colors and styles to fit in and show up on each article of clothing. On his white shirt, one large CALL ME displayed itself in black capital letters.
I rubbed my eyes. I used magic to try to break the illusion. Nope, Max’s name was still written everywhere. A waiter carried a stack of pancakes to a table, not batting an eye or asking who the hell Max was. Nobody else could see the writing. So this wasn’t even an illusion, not by normal standards. I couldn’t sense the kind of magic that mages used at play here either.
“And if that didn’t work…” He concentrated and everything changed again.
Huh. Now everybody in here looked like clowns.
