“Why do I always look so squinty in these things?” I stared at my calling card. One side of my face was scrunched up. I looked like a scurvy scallywag.
“You’re always squinty.” Paolo, my go-to communications wizard, replied. Right there with support.
“Special request,” I leaned over the cluttered counter and lowered my voice, although, currently, I was the only patron in the dusty little shop. ”Can you hook me up with a sensate spell or two?”
“Those are only for the cops, Stag.” Continue reading “A Quiet Beat”