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“And what’s up with those Happy charms?” I asked, a dog with a bone. “And the self-destruct feature after the girls freaked out on us? And why did they forget everything that happened?”
Houston shrugged. “The current theory is that the ‘activity’ charms are priming them for future shenanigans. They’re getting their minds and bodies accustomed to entering a trance state. As for the rage and the memory wipe? I wish I could tell you.”
“This was still plenty, though.” I patted the back of Houston’s hand. “Seriously, man. Thank you for sharing. This really helps.”
Houston gazed past my head, smiling at someone. That someone standing behind me cleared his throat. I frowned. I’d know that condescending little cough anywhere.
“Hands off the merchandise,” Xavi grumbled. “Don’t you have your own man to handle?”
I glowered at him as he slipped into the seat next to Houston. Houston was holding his spine a little straighter, his head held high, grinning like a golden retriever.
“Manhandling and panhandling,” Xavi said, reaching for a slider. “That’s Echo’s MO in a nutshell.”
I frowned harder. “You’re constantly telling me that I’m terrible with men and have zero game. Pick a lane! I wasn’t flirting with Houston, anyway.”
“Yeah,” Houston said, watching Xavi with a dazed grin. “He wasn’t flirting with me.”
Morrow cleared his throat. “What’s this about you having your own man?”
I considered smacking him upside the head, but couldn’t overlook that now-familiar slightly jealous curiosity in his crinkled eyes. I carefully ignored him. Let him suffer a little.
“Why are you here, anyway?” I asked.
Xavi smirked. “Houston said you guys were hanging out and that maybe I could come over and provide some crucial information.”
Oh, so they were on texting basis, now? I wondered if this was the first time Houston had ever seen Xavi out of drag. He didn’t seem hungry before, but the wolfish look in his eyes said he very much liked what he was seeing.
Xavi was very casually dressed, just a black tank top, jeans, and sneakers, but he knew how to carry his clothes extremely well. “It’s all about the fit,” he’d once told me, which worked great for him. His ass looked phenomenal in those jeans.
The tank top hugged him in all the right places, too, showing off his pecs and his slender waist, and, of course, showcasing his toned arms. “It doesn’t take a lot of money to look this cheap,” he’d also told me, which confirmed that he poured way more money into his drag than his boy clothes.
Not that I would ever tell Xavi out loud, but how this handsome man transformed into a beautiful woman by night was nothing short of magical.
“Crucial information?” Morrow said. He sat up. “Of course. Anita Cocktail’s charm bracelet. Do you have any updates, Xavi?”
This was stuff I should have passed on to Xavi myself. Apparently Houston had taken the initiative to ask himself, whether out of professional curiosity or as an excuse to hit Xavi up. Good guy Houston. This SeraphiCorp sharing was an even better idea than I thought.
Xavi all but unhinged his jaw and finished the rest of his slider. Houston’s mouth fell open, looking impressed, maybe even a little aroused. I found it unsurprising. I knew for a fact that Xavi had shoved much larger things down his throat.
“So you know that vacation she was saving up for? She left for it already, some kind of gay cruise. But it wasn’t just you guys. The girls at the club noticed that something was up with her. She took off the charm bracelet when she was taking off her makeup, so I stole it. But she never bothered looking for it, never even asked anyone. She went back to normal after, no more weird, zonked-out behavior, no more dopey faces.”
“Now, that’s new,” Houston said. “So removing the charms makes them lose interest. Maybe that explains why those girls at Southridge Mall forgot about their bracelets entirely.”
“Girls, plural?” Xavi asked, grinning like a tiger. “You been seeing some pretty ladies behind my back, Houston?”
Houston blushed, then filled Xavi in on our encounter at the mall. Xavi fished one of the charms out of the pile in the center of the table, holding it up for all of us to see.
“So does that mean that anyone wearing one of these goes nuts the next time we get a full moon? When is the next full moon, anyway?”
Morrow tapped away at the palm of his hand, consulting his Occultech implant. He pursed his lips.
“Three days.”
“Fuck,” I said. “So now we’re working on a timer, too. Just great.”
“You know, it’s not all fucked just yet,” Xavi said. “I think I know someone who can give you a little more intel about Happy, Inc. A journalist. I’ll keep you boys posted.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Houston said, utterly entranced. Xavi could barely contain his delight.
