Gio blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. The knuckles were scraped, and he thought briefly of finding a drugstore to buy supplies to clean them before remembering that with his recently acquired shifter abilities, they would be healed by morning.
Instead, he reached inside his jacket for the piece of paper with Max Molina's contact information, making sure it was still there.
He only hoped this Molina could help him, because if not, he didn't know how much longer he could go on like this.
MAX
"No, ma'am,"Max said into the phone. "I cannot do anything about this situation. I'm sorry for you, it's very sad that your husband found his mate and left you for her—sorry," she added, listening to the voice on the other end, "forhim, but I can't fix that."
"You're supposed to be the person who fixes shifter problems," the woman at the other end of the line snapped.
"If you want me to recover incriminating shift photos or deal with someone blackmailing you, that's the kind of thing I can help with." Max was beginning to lose her temper as well. It hadn't been a good day so far, and it had only just begun. "This, however, is the very definition of a situation that I cannot do anything about. I can't break a mate bond and I don't even want to. I'm not a magician!"
She hung up on the sound of angry protests.
"What does she think I'm supposed to do, bump off his new mate like a mafia hitman?" she asked the ceiling.
This was the second client she'd had to turn down already today. The first had been an email from someone whose kid's teacher had seen him shift. Max had thought about taking that one—she would have liked to help—but she really couldn't think of anything that she could do about it. Also, they were in England. She would have been willing to go that far if she was sure she could help, but the parents were just going to have to deal with this one. She had sent back an email suggesting a few possible fixes that she had used in the past: gas leak, medication-induced hallucination, practicing a magic trick—and left them to handle it on their own.
She needed some real clients, people with problems she could do something about. It had been a while since she'd had more than small, busywork cases, and nothing at all in the last week, at least nothing she could help with. She hated having to turn people down because she couldn't help them, but there had been a number of them lately, like this morning's offerings.
Just give me a dragon who's had his hoard stolen, a stool pigeon who turns into an actual pigeon—anything other than divorces and petty, ordinary problems I can't fix.
Her phone rang again. INCOMING CALL: SOFIA.
Speaking of petty, ordinary problems, this was the third time her sister had tried to call her this morning. Evidently it was going to keep happening until she picked up. Max grimaced and answered.
"Hey, you're alive!" Sofia said. "I was starting to wonder."
"Time zones," Max said.
"You're still in California, right? That's notthatmany time zones, even from Argentina."
"So you're still on the clan lands, which means you shouldn't even be talking to me, and you know that."
"I sent you a picture from Emilia's birthday party," Sofia said quickly.
Max checked her texts. Yep, there it was, a photo of an adorable big-eyed little girl surrounded by stuffed toys, pink streamers, and cake. In spite of herself, Max felt her heart melting into a gooey mess, tempered by guilt.
"Tell her Aunt Max will send her a present as soon as I can get to a post office," Max said. "How old is she now?"
"She's eight, and her sister is six. That would be nice and they'll appreciate it, but Max, they don't even know you. I wish you would—"
"Don't start," Max said shortly.
"It's been so long since you've seen any of us," Sofia said. Her voice was wistful. "At least you could fly to Buenos Aires for a weekend. I can drive down, bring the girls, we can make a vacation out of it."
Max was sorely, desperately tempted. She hardened her heart. "Yes, and you'll be in deep trouble with Nacio when you get back, if he ever finds out where you've been. He might even follow you to take a shot at me. I don't want to put you in danger, and especially not the girls."
"Isn't there any way to patch things up?" Sofia asked hopefully. "I know Cousin Nacio is really set in the old alpha ways, but—"
"Sofia, he told me he'd kill me if I ever came back, and he meant it. I'm an exile, and all the goodwill in the world won't change that."
"It's been ten years," Sofia said. "We have to do something. Or at least try. You can't live alone forever, without your clan."
"I've made it this long," Max said. "If that's all you called to say, I think we're done."
"Max—"
