Chapter 5
Griselda
The screen showed a video feed of a woman wringing her hands by the back door, and by Marcus’s reaction, he was not happy to see her.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“That’s Elise,” he answered absently. “How the hell did she find me?” He dragged both palms over his face. “I’m fucked.”
“And who’s Elise?”
The woman on the screen looked young at first glance, but she also had the telltale signs of too much filler in her face, so it was hard to tell. It could be a young woman with too much filler making her look older, or an older woman with too much filler, making her look… well, like she had too much filler.
“My mother.”
Ah, that explained it.
“Is seeing your mother really that bad?” I asked, almost glad that the attention wasn’t on us and our mess of feelings anymore.
“Yeah, it is,” he groaned. “I ran off and changed my identity for a reason.”
I raised a brow. That was news to me. So was Marcus not his real name?
He stood and started pacing, then went to check that the door to his gym was locked. You’d think he was facing the executioner and not an impromptu parental visit. The windows were frosted, so they let the sunlight in while still blocking the view into the gym. I had thought that was to give his patrons some privacy, but now I wondered if it was for another reason.
“First the mirrors, and now this? Fuck my life.” He was pacing now, the energy radiating from him turning more chaotic by the second. “I made sure never to show my face in my gym’s social posts. How did she find me?”
I reached out and put a calming hand on his arm, and he stopped pacing. Whatever his mother represented, it was bad news. He was no use if he panicked, so I tried to lighten things up. “Should I be worried that you’re not who you say you are? Don’t tell me I’ve been screaming the wrong name.”
He raised a brow. “I know what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to distract me. But no. You don’t need to worry about that. Marcus is the only name I go by now.”
“Want to enlighten me on why you’re reacting to your mom like she’s here to end your life?”
“It’s a long story.”
The doorbell rang again, and the woman on the screen looked up at the camera, finally noticing it. She pulled the scarf tighter to cover her face. Now that I knew she was Marcus’s mother, I saw the similarities. However, this woman looked fully human, but maybe it was an illusion. Illusion and glamor spells were quite common now, but the cheap ones were easy to see through, unlike the glamor The Wall had provided.
The Wall was a spell that had hidden monsters and magic from humans for as long as written history itself. It had suddenly faded a few years ago, shocking everyone except for those already in the know, like me. It must’ve been crazy waking up to discover that magic existed as well as monsters and creatures previously thought to be only things of myths and legends.
And that gave me an idea.
“I don’t think she’s leaving,” I said.
“No, she wouldn’t, not until she gets what she wants. But that ain’t happening.” Marcus still didn’t offer any other explanation.
“Let’s make a deal. I help you convince her that you are Marcus and not whoever you were, and you tell me why you’re avoiding her. All of it. No omissions. No lies.”
Marcus looked ready to bolt for a moment, but there was nowhere for him to run. Finally he said, “Only if you promise the information stays between us.”
A secret then. I didn’t know what to expect, but I did know that I needed a partner to help fight Arcane Development. I had this feeling that if Marcus's mother got what she wanted, I’d be out of a friendly neighbor.
“Deal,” I agreed.
He nodded. “What’s your plan?”
Instead of telling him, I simply said, “Sit still and let me work my magic.”
He looked amused but didn’t move. As I worked, the negative energy from him started to fade.
First I removed the glamor spell that hid his horns and other inhuman details. The original spell had kept his defining looks and simply humanized them. He still looked like himself despite the illusion. My job was to turn him into someone else completely.
“I’m guessing she expects a minotaur?” I asked.
“Yes, or one in glamor.”
“I’m going to keep your minotaur form so she thinks you aren’t wearing glamor at all. Trust me, no one can see through this unless they are a seasoned magic user.”
I focused on his face, manipulating the air around, sculpting a new one. A little nudge here. A small bump there. It was like working with modeling clay, except the magic made it much easier for me to form what I saw in my head. Then a few softly chanted words. Done.
“Ta-da!” I grinned at my masterpiece. It was still the same gorgeous face under the mask, but on the outside, Marcus was someone else. Gone were the sculpted cheekbones and the sharp jawline, replaced by something that was wholly and utterly average. Still decent-looking, but not cover-model gorgeous.
And he was still very much a minotaur, complete with horns, downturned bovine ears, and bullish features. Under his pants, his legs were those of a beast. I looked down to check, and sure enough the trainers he wore were shaped for a set of hooves.
He went to the single floor-length mirror he’d leaned up against the wall for a look, and reached up to touch his face.
“What did you do? I’ve never had glamor spells change my actual features before. Usually they only hide my bull parts.”
“It’s still a glamor spell, just a more advanced one. Even if she tried to use one of those illusion-detecting apps, it’d come back as natural. You might need to change your voice though.”
He shook his head. “My voice is very different from before. She won’t recognize it.”
He headed toward the back door and stepped out into the stairwell. I turned my attention to the screen. Moments later the door opened, and Marcus stepped into the shot, forcing the woman to step back. She frowned at him, confusion clear on her face. This was not who she’d expected.
“Ma’am, if you’re looking for the young lady who owned the bookstore, she moved. But if it’s important, I can try to get a message to her.” Marcus made himself sound ultra white-bread American.
“Um, ah, no. I was looking for…” She looked down at her phone. “…Marcus.”
“That’s me.” Marcus made a show of looking past her shoulder. “Is it the yoga mat delivery? I thought it was coming tomorrow.”
The woman suddenly lifted her phone and snapped a picture of him, the flash blinding the cameras.
“Hey!” Marcus complained, holding a hand over his eyes. “What the hell?”
The woman stepped back, her eyes on her screen. She looked confused, probably because her app failed to detect any illusion spells on him.
“No, no, no.” She shook her head. “ Mais, c’est vrai .”
“Delete that right now,” Marcus exclaimed in false outrage. “Who put you up to this? One of our competitors?”
But the woman was already running off.
A minute later the door opened and Marcus stepped back in. “She bought it. She even tried to use one of those apps, like you said. Thank you, Gigi. I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“First, you have to tell me what all this is about,” I reminded him.
“Right.” He looked around like he no longer trusted the walls. “Come upstairs. If I’m telling this story, I need a stiff drink.”
“Are you sure this isn’t just some ruse to get me to go home with you again?”
That had him grinning. “Maybe,” he said with a waggle of his brows. But the humor faded quickly, and he checked the camera feeds again before closing his laptop and tucking it under his arm. He started toward the stairwell. “Pardon the mess; I’m still setting up after the move. And there’s stuff everywhere.”
“I won’t judge.”
As he walked by the mirror, he frowned at the monster staring back at him. “Can I have my face back for now?”