Page 32 of Pointy Ears and Purple Glitter (Quirk of Fate #5)

The meeting with Grok was set for the next evening. Tynan adjusted his cuffs nervously as he and Malik prepared to leave the workshop. They’d spent the day securing the place as best they could and organizing the evidence from Hayley’s flash drive into something coherent they could present to Grok.

“Are you sure about this?” Tynan asked, watching Malik lock up the back entrance. “Using a crime boss to fight our battles feels...”

“Pragmatic,” Malik finished for him. “Grok understands territory and respect. Garrison violated both.”

Tynan nodded, though his stomach remained knotted with tension. His magic had been acting up all day - not the erratic surges of before, but a constant low-level hum beneath his skin, as if preparing for something.

“Do I look human enough?” he asked, running a hand over his glamored ears.

“Perfect,” Malik assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Remember, we’re not telling Grok about the paranormal angle. I wouldn’t put it past him to blackmail us about that for the rest of our lives. This is just about Garrison muscling in on territory and Mrs. Cooper’s corruption.”

“Right.” Tynan took a deep breath. “And you’re sure Grok will respect the neutral location?”

“The back room at Finnegan’s was his suggestion. Private, quiet, and technically outside both our territories. He’s bringing two men, we’re bringing evidence.”

Sparky, perched on Tynan’s shoulder, ruffled his feathers. “And I’m bringing my intimidating presence.”

“You’re staying in the car,” Malik corrected. “A talking raven could be one distraction too many. We’re trying to appear normal.”

“You’re discriminating, that’s what you’re doing,” Sparky muttered, but didn’t argue further.

The drive to Finnegan’s Pub took them through parts of town Tynan rarely visited - the spaces between territories where authority was ambiguous and alliances fluid. The building itself was unassuming, a weathered brick structure with a faded sign and blacked-out windows.

“Charming,” Tynan commented as they parked in the alley behind the pub.

“It’s not about charm.” Malik checked his watch. “We’re ten minutes early. Good.”

After settling Sparky in the car with strict instructions to stay put, they entered through the back door. A burly man with a neck thicker than Tynan’s thigh checked them quickly, nodding when Malik gave his name.

“This way,” he grunted, leading them down a narrow hallway to a heavy door.

The room beyond was simple - a round table surrounded by six chairs, a small bar in the corner, and no windows. Malik immediately positioned himself so he could see the door, guiding Tynan to sit beside him.

“Is this what all clandestine criminal meetings look like?” Tynan whispered, trying to lighten the mood.

Malik’s lips twitched. “More or less.”

The door opened again five minutes later, and Grok entered, flanked by two men whose expressions and bulging jackets suggested they were armed. Grok himself looked impeccable as always, his suit crisp and his shoes polished to a shine.

“Malik,” he greeted with a nod. “And Tynan, the PI. Interesting circumstances bringing us together.”

“I appreciate you meeting us,” Malik replied, his tone neutral.

Grok took the seat across from them, his men remaining standing behind him. “You said this concerns Garrison and territory violations. I’m listening.”

Tynan placed a folder on the table, sliding it toward Grok. “Alexander Garrison has been operating in this city under the guise of a security consultant, but his real agenda is much broader.”

Grok raised an eyebrow but opened the folder.

Inside were carefully selected documents from Hayley’s flash drive - financial records showing payments to local figures, emails discussing “cleansing operations” in specific neighborhoods, and a map of the city with territories marked, including those Grok controlled.

“Where did you get this?” Grok asked, his casual demeanor dropping as he leafed through the papers.

“A confidential source,” Tynan replied. “Someone who was close to Mrs. Elaine Cooper, Garrison’s primary financial backer.”

“Cooper,” Grok repeated, recognition flashing in his eyes. “The society woman. Didn’t she hire you to find her daughter?”

“She did,” Tynan confirmed. “But her motives weren’t as straightforward as she claimed.”

Malik leaned forward. “Garrison’s been marking territories with animal symbols, targeting businesses he wants removed. The rhino symbol on my workshop was just the beginning.”

“I’ve noticed some of my people being harassed,” Grok admitted, examining the map. “But nothing significant enough to warrant action...until your shop was attacked.”

“That’s his strategy,” Tynan explained. “Start small, establish presence, then escalate. The documents show he’s planning to move against key figures in each territory, including yours.”

Grok’s expression hardened as he came to a page listing names - his own among them. “He’s ambitious, I’ll give him that.”

“He’s also connected,” Malik added. “Mrs. Cooper has been paying off officials for years. Police, judges, council members. Some of the same people you’ve had arrangements with.”

“Undermining existing power structures,” Grok muttered, continuing to scan the documents. “Classic destabilization tactic.”

Tynan exchanged a glance with Malik before proceeding. “There’s more. Garrison isn’t just targeting random businesses. He has specific criteria for what he calls ‘undesirables.’”

“Which include?” Grok looked up sharply.

“Anyone different,” Tynan said carefully. “People who don’t fit his idea of what belongs in a ‘clean’ neighborhood. Including successful independent business owners who won’t be controlled.”

“Like Malik,” Grok concluded. “And potentially others who operate autonomously within established territories, like myself.”

“Exactly,” Malik confirmed. “He’s not just coming for us. He’s coming for anyone who doesn’t conform to his vision - which includes your operation and the arrangements you’ve established over the years.”

Grok was silent for a long moment, processing this information. Finally, he closed the folder and fixed them both with an assessing gaze.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“A coordinated response,” Malik said simply. “Garrison needs to be removed from the equation, and his financial backing cut off.”

“Mrs. Cooper.” Grok nodded. “And you think I can accomplish this how?”

Tynan slid another folder across the table. “These documents contain enough evidence to destroy Mrs. Cooper’s reputation and send her to prison for years. Bribery, harassment, coercion, conspiracy. But going to the authorities is complicated, given how many of them are on her payroll.”

“You want me to apply alternative pressure,” Grok concluded.

“We want her to face consequences that will permanently remove her ability to fund operations like Garrison’s,” Malik clarified. “How that happens is your expertise, not ours.”

“And Garrison himself?”

“Needs to understand that this territory is protected,” Malik said, his voice dropping lower. “By multiple interested parties who won’t tolerate his presence.”

Grok studied them both, his expression unreadable. “This isn’t just about your workshop, is it? There’s something personal here.”

“He broke my employee’s arm,” Malik replied evenly. “And threatened my partner. Yes, it’s personal.”

“This works for you, too,” Tynan said. “You get to keep your businesses protected and your reputation in your territory. That has to count for something.”

Grok smiled thinly. “Oh, it does. These documents you’ve provided contain valuable information about who’s been paid by Cooper and how much.

Knowledge is power in my business.” He tapped the folder.

“Plus, Garrison has been a thorn in everyone’s side for months.

Removing him would earn me considerable goodwill among certain circles. ”

“So we have an agreement?” Malik asked.

“We do,” Grok confirmed. “On one condition.” He fixed his gaze on Tynan. “Your source - the one who provided these documents. I want to know who it is.”

Tynan tensed, immediately protective of Hayley. “That wasn’t part of the arrangement.”

“It is now,” Grok insisted. “Information this sensitive doesn’t appear out of nowhere. I need to know it’s legitimate and not a trap.”

Malik’s hand found Tynan’s knee under the table, a subtle pressure that conveyed both support and caution.

“The source is Cooper’s daughter,” Tynan said carefully. “She left home to escape her mother’s control and gathered this evidence as insurance. That’s all I can tell you.”

“The missing daughter isn’t actually missing,” Grok concluded, looking thoughtful. “Interesting.”

“She wants to remain that way,” Tynan added firmly. “Her current identity and location aren’t relevant to our arrangement.”

Grok studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. I respect someone who protects their sources.” He extended his hand across the table. “We have a deal. Garrison and Cooper will no longer be problems for any of us.”

Malik shook the offered hand, his grip firm. “How soon?”

“I’ll need three days to mobilize resources,” Grok replied. “It would make sense to have everything happen all at the same time. In the meantime, stay alert. Garrison won’t give up his plans easily.”

“We’ll be ready,” Malik assured him.

As they prepared to leave, Grok stopped them with a final observation. “You know, Malik, I’ve known you for years as a man who keeps to himself. Yet here you are, forming alliances, fighting for your territory.” His gaze shifted to Tynan. “People change, I suppose.”

“Or they find something worth fighting for,” Malik replied simply.

“I’m sure you know what that feels like.

But, as you’re in a negotiating mood, allowing the streetlights to be repaired and stay that way would be helpful to all of us.

Those shadows have protected Garrison’s activities for long enough. ”

“You might have a point.” Grok laughed. “We’ll see what happens.”

Outside in the alley, Tynan released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That went better than expected.”

“Grok’s a businessman at heart,” Malik said as they walked to the car. “He recognizes a mutually beneficial arrangement when he sees one.”

“Do you trust him?”

“I trust his self-interest,” Malik replied. “And right now, that aligns with ours.”

Sparky greeted them with indignation when they returned to the car. “Three suspicious characters walked by while you were gone. I was prepared to peck their eyes out if necessary.”

“Your restraint is appreciated,” Tynan said dryly. “The meeting went well. Grok’s on board.”

“Excellent,” Sparky declared. “Phase one of ‘Operation Remove the Humans Who Hate Non-Humans’ is complete.”

“We really need a better name for that,” Tynan muttered as they pulled away from the pub.

“Operation Freedom?” Malik suggested.

“Operation Nest Security,” Sparky countered.

“How about we focus on staying alive for the next three days?” Tynan proposed. “Grok may be handling the big picture, but we still need to protect ourselves until then.”

As they drove back toward the workshop, Tynan couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The streets seemed unusually quiet, the shadows deeper than normal. His magic hummed beneath his skin, responding to his unease.

“We should check on Ian,” he said suddenly. “Make sure he’s okay.”

Malik nodded, already changing direction toward Ian’s neighborhood. “Good idea. Garrison might target him again to get to us.”

Ian’s mother answered the door, her expression softening when she saw them. “He’s in the living room, pretending he’s not in pain,” she said, ushering them inside. “The boy’s too stubborn for his own good.”

Ian was indeed on the couch, his arm cast propped up on pillows, looking pale but alert. His face brightened when he saw them.

“Boss! Tynan! Please tell me you’ve come to rescue me from daytime television. If I have to watch one more cooking show, I might lose my mind.”

“How are you feeling?” Tynan asked, settling into a chair beside the couch while Malik remained standing, instinctively positioning himself where he could see both the front and back doors.

“Like I got hit by a truck, but the drugs help,” Ian admitted. “Any news on the Garrison situation?”

“We’re handling it,” Malik said carefully, aware of Ian’s mother in the kitchen. “Should be resolved soon.”

“Good,” Ian said firmly. “Because I’ve been thinking about ways to improve security at the shop. Maybe some extra cameras, or…”

“Ian,” Malik interrupted gently. “Your only job right now is to heal. The shop will be fine.”

“But I want to help,” Ian insisted. “I feel useless just lying here.”

“You’re not useless,” Tynan assured him. “In fact, we need your help with something important.”

Ian perked up immediately. “Yeah? What is it?”

“If Hayley Cooper contacts you again, we need to know immediately,” Tynan explained. “And if you see or hear anything unusual - strange cars on your street, people watching the house - call us right away.”

“You think they might come after me here?” Ian asked, lowering his voice so his mother wouldn’t hear.

“It’s just a precaution,” Malik said, though his expression conveyed the seriousness of the situation. “Better safe than sorry.”

They stayed for about an hour, discussing safer topics while Ian’s mother brought them tea and homemade cookies. The domesticity of it felt surreal against the backdrop of their meeting with Grok and the looming confrontation with Garrison and Mrs. Cooper.

As they prepared to leave, Ian’s mother pulled Malik aside. “You’ll keep him safe, won’t you?” she asked quietly. “I’ve always known you were someone special, and I see the same in your partner. But Ian’s my only boy. Promise me he’ll be safe when he comes back to work?”

“With my life,” Malik promised, the words carrying more weight than she could possibly understand.

Back in the car, Tynan leaned his head against the window, suddenly exhausted. “Three days,” he murmured. “So much could happen in three days.”

Malik reached across the console to take his hand. “We’ll be careful. Extra security at the workshop, limited outings, regular check-ins.”

“And if Garrison decides to make a move before Grok is ready?”

“Then we’ll handle it,” Malik said with quiet confidence. “Together.”

“That word.” Tynan chuckled as he squeezed Malik’s hand. “Everything is together for you.”

“There’s no other way to be when I’m with you.”