Page 7

7

LEON

I hugged my elbows as Max and I stood in line outside the club. Pulse-pounding electronic music thumped within its four walls, deadened only by the heavy doors. In front of them stood an equally heavy man, built with so much thick muscle that he could probably function quite well as a door himself.

That’s what bouncers were, in a sense. With his shiny head and shiny mustache, the jacked man in the tight black T-shirt was the beast that guarded the gates. No clipboard necessary. Habibi seemed like the kind of place where they only let someone in if they liked their face.

Okay, and their body. And butt. And maybe the bulge.

It was a gay club, okay? One of the most popular in Dos Lunas, according to Max, my friendly local tour guide. I hadn’t been myself, but the way Max nodded at the bouncer suggested that he’d visited once or twice. Either that or he had enough burning, quiet confidence and charisma to sail us right through.

No exception on the cover charge, unfortunately. Max peeled a couple of bills out of his wallet. I looked away innocently, pretending that he was going to add it to my running tab. We stepped into the club. The sounds of the city streets disappeared, drowned out by all the rhythmic banging.

And I didn’t just mean all the cute guys fucking.

Only joking! Mostly. I wasn’t going to check the bathrooms to confirm. But Habibi was packed full of beautiful boys with beautiful bodies in all shapes and sizes. Twinks, twunks, bears, otters, daddies, and more. Every species fully represented. A bestiary of boys. An actual men-agerie, if you will.

Habibi meant “beloved” in Arabic, and it certainly lived up to its name. So beloved by the local queer community, but also a place for lonely singles to find their beloved, even if only for a single night. It also happened to be home turf to one of Vera Loong’s peers. Or competition, really, depending on who you asked.

And there he was in the VIP section, behind a single velvet rope guarded by another musclebound bouncer. The Amethyst Spider was fittingly stretched out on a bank of rich purple sofas, so very, very important and exclusive that he sat alone.

We stepped up to the bouncer. Max nodded toward the sofas and the man hogging all of them, like a singular gemstone sitting pretty on its velvet display pillow. A single beckoning finger from the Amethyst Spider and we were in, allowed through the second layer of Habibi’s social defenses.

Max gave the Amethyst Spider a firm nod. “Been a long time. It’s good to see you again, Faizan.”

“And the same to you, Maximilian Drake.”

The man called Faizan trailed his eyes down and up the entire length of Max’s body, then repeated the same with me. Head to toe, assessing, absorbing. I had to admit, I was doing very much the same. The Amethyst Spider was a fairly attractive man.

Scratch that. He was stunning. His glossy black curls fell in ringlets over his eyes, eyes that were rimmed with kohl, made even more smoldering and intense with a practiced hand and just the right amount of makeup. Dark stubble accentuated his strong jawline, the kind of jaw that told you everything below it would be just as nice to look at.

And it was. Faizan wore a purple vest embroidered with golden thread and embellished with tiny gemstones. He wore nothing else underneath, arms bulging with muscle, a powerful chest with enticing loops of hair. He held the pipe of a hookah in one hand, a caterpillar on a mushroom.

In place of a caterpillar’s segments, naturally, the man had a killer set of abs rippling down to his waist. The dusting of hair across his chest cascaded all the way down, dipping under the line of his very comfortable harem pants. I tightened my lips and glanced away, but too late. Out of the corner of my eye, I could already see him grinning.

“Very cool theme,” I said, struggling to play it nonchalant. “So where’s Alice? Where’s the Red Queen?”

A petite drag queen tittered as she ran past on powder-blue heels, blond hair tumbling down her back, her powder-blue dress made completely out of latex. A second, colossal drag queen squeaked by in her red and black vinyl gown, as big as a parade float. She raised her glittering scepter.

“Off with her head!” she boomed, in hot pursuit.

The Amethyst Spider gestured at the pair, smiling, except that I knew what the smile was actually about. He’d totally caught me checking him out. But I was allowed to look, wasn’t I? We were here to investigate. I couldn’t very well do that without the use of my eyes. And my mouth. Oh, shit. I meant — never mind what I meant.

“We like to do these theme parties every so often,” he said. “Our regulars really enjoy the opportunity to get dolled up. You should consider yourselves so fortunate that I allowed you into my fine establishment at all.”

Max held out his hands. “Listen, Faizan. We’re not here to cause any trouble.”

“Oh, I only meant the dress code.” Faizan chuckled, trailing his pipe to indicate up, then down our bodies. “You boys didn’t see the sign at the door?”

“They let us right in, though.” I scratched the back of my ear, looking between the two of them. “There was a door charge and everything.”

“And it is a tithe that I would happily refund, my friend. But the rules say that anyone who comes in without a costume must go shirtless.” Faizan smirked. “Pay your fee in flesh, and I will gladly entertain any questions you have for me.”

I noted his words carefully. Entertain , he said. Not answer. I shot him my best smile. “And maybe you’d even consider answering some of them?”

The Amethyst Spider laughed. “You have a sharp wit, friend. It’s a sign of a strong mind. But I’m certain that many of tonight’s revelers would be just as interested in seeing the strong body that goes with it.”

He bit on the end of his pipe, lush lips wrapping over it as he inhaled, eyes smoldering. Man was too hot for his own good. Beside me, Max stood without speaking a word, processing in that silent, sexy way that he did.

So much of magic was transactional, even the simple act of casting a small hex draining a portion of a witch’s essence. But even interactions in the arcane underground, whether communing with entities or speaking to spiders, involved serious transactions. Grave exchanges.

Faizan lowered his head, long, dark lashes fluttering as he blinked. Before that moment I somehow never noticed that so many eyes were on us, expectant, waiting. Maybe they wanted to know what Max and I wanted from the Amethyst Spider.

Or maybe they just wanted to see more.

I turned to Max and shrugged. “It’s only polite. I mean, dress code and all.”

And Max, a man who worked hard for his beautiful body and wasn’t shy about showing it off, shrugged right back. “Let’s give them a show.”

Hoots and hollers, whistles and applause erupted from around the club as I yanked my shirt off. I tucked it into my waistband, skin cold in the air-conditioning, and yet I’d never felt hotter.

Max tossed his leather jacket onto one of the couches, then pulled his tank up and over his head with a single hand. He turned in a circle, arms spread out as he locked eyes with the people gathered around us. The crowd went wild. So did my nether regions. This ripped, cocky stud? Mine. All mine.

The cheering settled down as the DJ slipped smoothly into another song. Something by Kylie Minogue. I nodded at the Amethyst Spider and broadened my shoulders, my chest stuck out.

“Just so you know, this is as far as it goes. A live performance is gonna cost you extra.”

From beside me, Max chuckled under his breath. He knew me too well. As if I would ever pass up an opportunity to make some good money.

“More’s the pity. You make such a lovely pair.” Faizan leaned forward, pointing at both of us with a sweep of his pipe. “And how long have the two of you been in love?”

I didn’t know my body could go into a full blush in a second flat. Thank God for the gaudy club lights, because I was positive my skin had turned bright red.

Max clenched his fists, muscles bulging as he frowned. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

That didn’t come out very smoothly by Max’s eloquent standards, his words normally so meticulously chosen. And with a little bit of a stammer, too. Granted, neither of us had really discussed anything beyond that cute, vague little convo about entering an exclusive finder partnership. But it was hard not to feel the tiniest sting of disappointment.

“We’re not putting labels on it yet,” I said, effectively stamping myself as a stereotype clear across the forehead in blazing red letters.

Max shot me a look that was somehow equal parts grateful and apologetic. I answered with a reassuring smile.

I tilted my head, offering the Amethyst Spider another smile. “So we’ve paid your flesh tithe, and you’ve already asked us one question. Is it fair to assume that we can start asking you questions in turn?”

The Amethyst Spider leaned into the cushions, crossed his legs, and waved his hand. “Ask, and if I know, then I shall do my best to answer.”

He patted the sofa. Max and I took our seats. Very plush. I could see why Faizan liked it here, and why he saved the VIP section for himself.

“We spoke to your benefactor,” Max started to say. “She’s the reason we even came to see you.”

Faizan stared off into space and took a hit of his pipe, his chest expanding as the embers on the hookah glowed a bizarre, vibrant purple. He exhaled, twin streams of lilac smoke jetting out of his nostrils, more an amethyst dragon than a spider.

I remembered being so fascinated when I saw Vera do something similar once, releasing a wisp of green smoke from between her lips. She claimed that it was the secrets struggling to get out of her body. I’d laughed at the time. Maybe she wasn’t pulling my leg, after all.

“This benefactor you speak of.” Faizan winked. “Does she have two legs, or eight?”

Cheeky. Very cheeky. I winked back. “I think you know that it’s the eight-legged one.”

“Ah. You’re on a mission from Mother Arachne.” He took another puff, exhaled again, a plaintive sigh. “And here I thought that you’d come to diversify. Exercise your versatility.”

Max chuckled under his breath. “Sadly, no. Leon and I are in an exclusive relationship. With the Jade Spider, that is.”

He nudged me with his shoulder, our own little private joke. Faizan clearly took notice, raising an eyebrow, but he said nothing.

“Oh, of course. Vera Loong. A very lovely woman, when she wants to be. But that isn’t why you’ve come to see me, is it?” Faizan showed us another sharp leer, adjusted his vest to show off more of his ridiculous torso. “To gloat about your loyalty to your sweet Auntie Vera, when this even sweeter morsel is freely available to you?”

Max coughed into his fist, one of his little ways of deflecting his embarrassment. Funny how the guy could take off his shirt in a busy club, but couldn’t take some light flirtation. To be fair, Faizan was laying it on pretty damn thick.

“We’re actually here about a different peer of yours,” I said, swooping in to Max’s rescue. “Though we’re pretty sure he’s no longer in the business. Are you familiar with the Quartz Spider?”

Faizan sat up straight. He put his pipe down, more serious and attentive than we’d seen him all night. He looked to either side, a cautious pedestrian about to cross an especially busy street.

“I’ve heard about his — shall we say, exploits. Talk about someone who’s turned from the light. I don’t believe the Quartz Spider was every truly acquainted with our Mother. And now, to hear tell of him dabbling in such dangerous magic? Chronomancy is a powerful craft, but say the wrong words, make the wrong gestures?”

Faizan shuddered. This wasn’t the first I’d heard of the pitfalls of time magic. It didn’t seem all that common in the arcane underground because of how difficult it was to master, no less to practice. No one around to really teach it, either.

Because Faizan was exactly right. If I messed up my blasting hex, it would hurt like hell, but I was always free to try again. Better luck next time. But flub even the smallest workings of time magic? The consequences could be dire. Entrapment in a time loop. Accidental aging by several years, if not decades. Turn instantly into a pile of dust.

“Can you think of any way we can find him?” I ruffled the back of my hair, already frustrated. “Long story short, Vera had to throw us into one of those spider dimensions to keep her home bar safe. Brendan Shum appeared in there with us. But how? It’s like you said. Arachne herself says that he doesn’t have her favor.”

The Amethyst Spider stroked his chin, eyes gazing off into the distance. I followed his line of sight. He was looking at the bar. For a moment I wondered if he was just thirsty.

“Have you gentlemen considered,” he said, “that the Quartz Spider was simply abusing his favorite new flavor of magic? A bitter pill to swallow, but it sounds to me like he’s getting better at it.”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. How would that even work?”

Faizan pulled out his phone, pointing the lens of its camera at me. “Sit there for a second. Yes. Good. Now step out of the frame. Leave the couch.”

Okay, weird. Max only shrugged. I did as Faizan said, then sat back down when he motioned at the sofa again. He patted the cushions closest to him, indicating for us to sit closer. He dragged his finger across his phone, back and forth. There I was on the screen, on the couch one moment, then gone the other. Back and forth. Appearing. Disappearing.

I slapped my forehead. “Holy fucking shit. He took a snapshot somehow, must have been invisible in the bar when Vera transported us.”

“A simple feat even for a former spider,” Faizan said. “Stealth and camouflage? Child’s play.”

“Then he just hit rewind to leave again.” I rubbed my temples. “Zipped him right back to the safety of the bar while he left us to drown in Vera’s dimension.”

Max raised his head to the ceiling and groaned. “Son of a bitch. That’s it. He’s pulled a time loop on us before. He’s even learned to manipulate elements, change the state of water. Something about the memory of matter.”

At least we knew that Arachne was telling the truth. This had nothing to do with granting her worshippers access to her spider holes. Apparently, the Quartz Spider had cooked up a couple of new tricks. I didn’t fancy the idea of discovering what else he had up his sleeve.

“Thank you, Faizan,” Max said, standing up. “This clarifies a few things. Thank you again. You’ve helped us more than I could have hoped.”

“Oh, think nothing of it.” Faizan looked at his vest, pretending to flick away a bit of lint. “And free of charge, too. All in the interest of keeping our fair city safe. Perhaps in the future the two of you will consider working a job for me, yes?”

“Depends on the kind of job,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Max’s eyes widened. Faizan laughed.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Enjoy the rest of your evening, gentlemen.”

We stepped out of the VIP area. I could sense that Max was excited to head somewhere we could talk one on one.

And that was when I noticed him, the young man making eyes at my own young man. I couldn’t even act surprised about it. Max was the kind of guy who turned heads fully clothed, never mind with his shirt off. But something about how this other man was trying to get his attention was rubbing me the wrong way.

Mousy. That was the best way to describe him. Kind of a nerd, but he had his own sense of style, those glasses, the waistcoat, this whole vibe that he worked at a used bookshop and had all the best recommendations. Not a bad-looking guy at all. Quite handsome, even.

He walked up to Max, never making eye contact with me, not that he would know who I was from Adam. Just a random pickup, right? He’d whisper something flirty in Max’s ear, and Max would turn him down politely.

“Wow, Max, fancy seeing you here.” He gestured at himself, waved his hands over his clothes. “I know, I know, I’m wearing the same stuff from work. But I thought it’d be appropriate for tonight, with a couple of twists.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh. You guys knew each other?”

“Yeah, you know. Work stuff.” Max crossed his arms over his torso, like he was suddenly so embarrassed to be naked. “Hi again. Been a while, huh?”

“Sorry, what?” The man in the waistcoat blinked in confusion. “But we only met today.”

Didn’t Max say that he’d spent the earlier part of his day scoping out the statuette? I clenched my jaw, gritting my teeth through my annoyance, forcing out my best fake smile.

Maximo had some explaining to do.