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

The next day, the workshop was very busy, something Malik was thankful for. He’d had barely any sleep, constantly thinking about the fae he had met the night before. Although it was difficult to know what was upsetting him more.

On the one side, his mate – and yes, in Malik’s head, they were very definitely mates even if Tynan didn’t know that yet – was a concern with his erratic magic. Not being able to glamor his ears made Tynan a target, even without the stunning looks and a talking bird as a companion.

The other matter was more personal and pressing, and one of the few times Malik cursed being a shifter.

It would seem the stories he’d heard through the years were true.

He could not get his damn cock to go down, no matter what he did.

The moment the image of Tynan’s face appeared in his head – who am I kidding, it never left – Malik’s cock reminded him of the fundamentals of claiming a mate. A rough night in other words.

Ian’s chuckle as he arrived the following morning reminded Malik of another little matter he’d forgotten to take care of – the glitter on the pavement. Not a typical thing found among the discarded beer cans, take-out wrappers, and cigarette butts, Malik usually swept up every morning.

Fortunately, for Malik at least, by the time Ian actually came into the workshop, Malik was busy talking to a customer who’d come to pick up the truck he’d finished the night before.

That first customer was just the start, with people coming in and out for the next four hours. Whether dropping off or picking up, Malik’s regulars liked to talk to him, and usually Malik didn’t mind. Part of his reputation came from the personal attention he gave each customer and their vehicles.

He’d decided to specialize in older cars about a decade before, determined not to get caught up trying to fix disposable, modern cars that were rendered useless the moment something went wrong with one of the many computers apparently necessary for getting the driver from point A to point B.

He was a mechanic, and he fixed mechanical motors – a skill his customers appreciated.

Unfortunately, the chat side of things wasn’t as easy as Malik usually found it. “You’re looking tired,” one man said just before lunch, slapping Malik on his shoulder. “You might have to take on more mechanics to give you a hand.”

“Ian’s great, and I don’t need anyone else in here.” Malik tried to stay focused. He yawned and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. “Business is good. There’re just a lot of people dragging their older wagons out of their garages in preparation for the warmer months at the moment.”

“Like me.” The customer had laughed. “No point in driving a convertible when the wind’s cold enough to freeze your balls off. Maybe think about taking a vacation.” He got in his car, and Malik carefully closed the driver’s door for him.

“Don’t forget to keep an eye on those oil levels, and if you notice any drips on the driveway, bring it right back.” Malik tapped the side of the door before standing back.

“Never had to do that yet. You know how to look after my baby.” The customer was still smiling as he left.

Peeling a couple of twenty-dollar notes from the roll the customer had given him, Malik flashed them in Ian’s direction.

“Lunch time – I’ll just have my usual burger – three of them – and whatever you want for yourself. ”

“Best boss ever.” Ian straightened, brushed off his overalls, and hurried over, snatching the money on his way past.

“Only one soda,” Malik reminded him as Ian ran out the door, but he shook his head as he went and stashed the rest of the money in his old till, where it belonged. He’s going to come back with the biggest soda cup they have.

/~/~/~/~/

“I see the gremlins were so impressed at fixing that truck last night, they threw their own little party outside. Did you see the state of the pavement this morning? I’ve never known you to throw glitter bombs. I found traces of that stuff all the way down the street.”

Ian was back with their lunch order, and they were both seated behind the reception counter in their small front office, packages strewn across the table. “If there was a party, I didn’t hear any of it.”

Malik quickly munched on his burger. Despite having to stay hidden in a human world, Malik tried to lie as little as possible. That’s why he let Ian make up his little fantasies, wondering how some cars got fixed quicker than others.

He also never discussed what went on outside of the workshop at night.

Ian didn’t need to know. He was a really good worker, who had a mam who loved him.

Malik’s agreement with Ian’s mam was that Ian would only work during daylight hours.

It made things a bit difficult in the winter months, when the days were a lot shorter, but Malik really didn’t mind.

Unfortunately, Ian was also persistent. “I don’t know how you could miss something going on outside in the middle of the night,” Ian said, shoving his burger papers to one side and slurping on a Coke that was in a cup bigger than his head.

“Actual glitter, Boss, big flakes too, not the tiny dusty stuff.”

“I was working, then I was sleeping. There was nothing unusual about my night.” Malik shrugged. “Probably someone got their hands on some party supplies, and the bag broke. Just try not to track it in here.”

“I didn’t step in it and checked the bottom of my boots before coming in.

” Ian took a long slurp of his soda. “I wouldn’t have noticed it except it was purple.

Like bright purple. Somehow,” he added, pointing his cup in Malik’s direction.

“I just don’t see the people who haunt these dark streets at night being the type to buy purple glitter party supplies. ”

“The only reason it’s dark around here is because too many idiots keep knocking out the streetlights,” Malik grumbled, keen to talk about anything else except glitter.

His cock was getting an unnatural attachment to hearing the word.

“I call about it every freaking week, but the last person I spoke to said that no one can be bothered replacing the bulbs anymore. Apparently, they don’t have the budget for it, which surprised the hell out of me given how much I pay in taxes. ”

“Have you ever thought about moving?” Ian asked. “I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but your customers would follow you anywhere. Have you thought about a workshop somewhere that’s a little bit more lit up at night?”

Malik chuckled. “I’m happy here. I bought this place fair and square because I could afford it.

No one messes with us – they tried back when I first moved in here, but that issue didn’t last. We don’t get mucked about because the gangs around here see the size of me and want to wet themselves if they have to have anything to do with me.

That’s fine. I can live with that. It’s not like any of them have any vintage cars we service anyway.

Face it, during the day, this place is as good as anywhere else.

After dark, I have solid bolts on the garage doors. ”

“Fair enough, I suppose. That’s probably why the gremlins like you.” Ian ripped open the wrapper of a large cookie. Malik frowned when he saw it.

“Is your mam’s cookie tin already empty?”

“Yep,” Ian said, biting into the cookie he’d bought. “And you can’t tell her I’m eating shop-bought cookies, either,” he mumbled around the crumbs. He swallowed and then added, “She’d start sending them to us twice a week.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Malik leaned over to where the small fridge sat by the wall, pulling out a large bottle of water. “I thought you loved your mam’s cookies.”

“I love my mam, and her cooking is the best. But you know, sometimes…sometimes a grown man has to have a different type of cookie.”

Malik chuckled. He wasn’t a major cookie eater, although he liked how Ian’s mam always thought to send enough sweet goods along for him as well as her son.

She didn’t need to know that Ian ate most of them.

He looked down at his burgers. He still had a full one and a half left, but his stomach churned just looking at them.

His animal side was agitated, and it was as if he was pacing back and forth in Malik’s mind.

It was an unusual sensation that was enough to give Malik a headache.

“Hey, I think we’ve got company.” Ian nudged Malik’s elbow. “Isn’t that one of the people you’re always warning me away from?”

Malik glanced over to the workshop entrance, which, of course was wide open. “Yeah, I’m guessing that’s for me,” he said gruffly. “Keep that ginger head of yours low, and stay in here until he’s gone, all right? No point in getting on anybody’s radar if you don’t need to.”

Malik got up and shoved the rest of his lunch in Ian’s direction. It would be gone by the time his chat was finished. He sauntered out to the front of the workshop, meeting Grok on the pavement.

Grok was a big man, not as big as Malik, but big enough to hold his own among most of the idiots that ran around the streets at night.

Dressed in an expensive suit, his white shirt crisp and his Rolex glistening on his wrist, at first glance, he looked like any other businessman who had somehow strayed into the wrong neighborhood.

But anyone with an ounce of street sense would recognize the bulge under his arm, barely hidden by his jacket, and the hard look in his dark eyes.

He nodded when he saw Malik, but that was as far as any respect went. “I got word this morning that thanks to a couple of my men, I owe you restitution. Thought I’d better come down here and see what the issue was.”

Malik grunted, folding his arms across his chest. Grok knew exactly why Malik had a beef with him. He just didn’t want Malik looking for him. Just thinking about what happened to Tynan in his back yard was enough to make Malik’s blood boil, and it seemed Grok had good survival instincts.