She shook his hand. “That’s not great of them.”
He shrugged. “They seemed cool enough in college, but money gets to people, I guess. But hey, it’s a really nice cocktail, and at these prices, it deserves to be drunk. I can enjoy it, talk to your friend here, and not call the evening a loss.”
She wondered what they’d been talking about, since Jamal didn’t strike her as one of the hungry business types they’d been stalking all evening.
“Your friend’s got a real gift, you know,” Jamal continued, taking a sip. “He’s amazingly in touch with what people want. I kind of wish I had his skills in my line of work.”
“What do you do, some kind of business thing?”
Jamal laughed softly. “The opposite. I work for the Make-A-Wish Foundation.”
“It’s amazing,” said Luke. He practically had stars in his eyes. “Did you know about this?”
“Yeah, I know about it,” she said. She patted his hand. “What would you need Luke for? I mean, the kids literally tell you their wishes, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s hard sometimes to tell if it’s what the kid really wants, or just what the adults are pressuring them for. I mean, we can tell they don’t actually want us to buy Daddy a new truck—most of the time—but sometimes it’s trickier.”
“Huh.” She cast a suspicious glance at Luke. He didn’twant to offer kids a trip to Disney in exchange for their soul, did he?
“They don’t have to pay for it, Morgan,” he said enthusiastically. “They just give it to them so they’re happy.”
He looked so happy himself, and then he looked down at his drink, crestfallen. He continued, “It’s not like my job at all, my job sucks.”
“How many of these have you had, buddy?” she asked, moving the glass away. “I think it’s time to get you home.”
Jamal chuckled. “Nice to meet you both.”
“You, too,” she said, maneuvering Luke out the door.
“Hey wait,” called her earlier target as she left. “I just statted up a dark mage with a detective agency and a blood-bonded hellhound!”
***
“Total failure,” she reported to Gisele, who had waited up for them, curled on the couch in a robe and her axolotl slippers with Rix and an e-reader full of fanfic. “We’re screwed.”
She collapsed on the couch. Luke collapsed next to her.
“I’m sorry, Morgan,” he said. “So sorry.”
“You got the demon drunk,” Gisele said, raising her eyebrows.
“Not on purpose,” Morgan sighed. Not that she was any more sober. “We’re back to Operation Damn My Coworkers. Shit.”
Her feet hurt so much. Stupid shoes.
“Can I help?” Luke asked. When she gave him a puzzled look, he gestured. “With your feet.”
“That’s not worth wasting power on.” A shame. It would have been nice. Tomorrow they were going to hurt even more.
“I meant I could, sort of, rub them?”
Her cheeks flushed. Oh my, yes, he could absolutely rub them. That would be amazing. Ly awkward. Amazingly awkward. Did he even realize how intimate that was for humans? Probably not. This was a terrible idea. “That’s really sweet, but they’ll be OK.”
He flushed and looked away. “I’m sorry. I misread—”
“No, it’s a really kind offer,” she rushed to reassure him. He was drunk; he didn’t understand human customs. He had claws—did claw massages even exist? Oh, no, if he realized that some humans had a thing about feet, like a sexual thing, he was going to be so grossed out. He was probably grossed out in general by humans anyway. Just because she apparently had a pervy thing for scales didn’t mean that he was into monster-chasing. Because if his people were monstrous to her, surely it must go the other way. She tried really hard to stop thinking about foot rubs and the way his warmer skin would feel against her hers. Twice in one evening. She was a terrible person. No more alcohol around Luke, ever again.
“Well, you got a package.” Gisele rescued her, tossing her a box.
