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My douche-o-meter can’t handle the overload and explodes.
“Werewolves,” he says, looking us up and down. “In my club.”
“Dan sent us,” Nathan says.
“Yeah, of course he did. Jonah.” He sticks his hand out for Nathan to shake, then offers it to me before noticing mine is missing. He snatches the offer back quickly.
Hook, I think, giving Nathan a knowing look.
“So, you’re the royals.” Jonah tucks his thumbs through his belt loops. His pants are riding low enough to expose a cut of muscle plunging from his hip to beneath his waistband. “Guess that qualifies you for the VIP room.”
It strikes me then that he doesn’t sound English. As we follow him toward the back of the club, I say, “You have a west coast accent. Like, the west coast of North America.”
“Good ear,” he notes. “Vancouver, British Columbia.”
“I’m from Ontario!” I declare excitedly, and way too loud. Some people we pass give me a withering look.
“Yeah, got that from the whole Toronto thing.” He pushes a swinging black door open, revealing a room that’s basically just a huge banquette in black velvet, surrounded by mirrors. He tells us, “Have a seat.”
We slide onto the banquette, and he sits across from us, putting his feet up on the low, mirrored table in the center. “What can I do for you?”
“Discretion, foremost,” Nathan says as an opener.
“You have my word as a magician,” Jonah promises. “For all the good that will do you.”
Though I know it will annoy Nathan, I can’t wait around for them to posture their way into an agreement. “Someone put a spell on us. We need you to tell us what it is, what it’s doing, who put it there. Dan thought you’d have some idea how to do that.”
“Absolutely,” Jonah says, and pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, as if in punctuation.
Nathan and I look at each other. The relief we both feel is palpable.
“Fantastic,” Nathan says, reaching into his pocket. “I assume there’s payment involved—”
“Put your wallet away, King Friday.” Jonah waves his hand. “I said I have an idea how to do that. I didn’t say I would or even could.”
“So, you know how to do it, you just can’t do it?” I ask.
“Yeah, the thing with this spell is, I need to be able to see it. Physically. And I can’t see it.” Jonah gives us a “What are you gonna do?” shrug and takes another drag off his cigarette.
“Is there something you can do to make it visible?” Nathan asks. “A meditation or maybe we need to stand in a certain light?”
“I don’t think that’s how magic works,” I say quietly.
“The spell you’re under is meant to be as unnoticeable as possible. The fact that a thrall who isn’t a magician saw it is pretty impressive; whoever it was must be sensitive to energies. But even with my training, all I can see is its presence and that it’s a binding. The only way I could see it is if…” He makes a face that indicates we’re definitely not going to like what we hear.
“Spit it out,” Nathan snaps.
“I have to see the spell at work. And not just at work, I mean, performing its intended purpose. The energy needs to be raised way above the level it’s at now. And the only way we could feasibly achieve that is if the two of you…” Jonah makes a circle with the fingers of one hand and penetrates it with the index finger of the other one.
“Oh, come on!” I object, not just to his lewd gesture, but the very notion that I’m going to have sex with him watching me.
But Nathan says, “Go on.”
“What?” I shriek.
Nathan pats my knee. “Let’s just hear him out.”
“It wouldn’t have to be pervy,” Jonah explains. “I’ll be concentrating on a ritual, anyway. And it might help if I gave you both something to boost the libido. It could increase the visibility of the spell and make things less awkward.”
“Because we’ll be too horny to care that we’re doing it right in front of a stranger?” I snort. “Not bloody likely.”
Nathan turns to me with a grin. “You said ‘bloody.’ That’s adorable.”
“Don’t patronize me!” I gesture toward Jonah. “And what if this guy magic roofies us or something.”
“Oh, please, Your Majesty. Look around this club. Do you really think I have a hard time pulling? There’s a girl over there in a latex bra, for god’s sake.” Jonah shakes his head. “Look, it’s just an idea. Take it or leave it, but otherwise I genuinely can’t help you.”
Are we really entertaining this idea? The thought of this guy, this grubby club dude watching Nathan and I fucking is just about the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Is that really our only option?” I ask, pressing my hand to my temple.
