And he was smiling.
That was not a good sign. I knew he would have nothing nice to say. That wasn’t the kind of relationship we had.
“Hey.” I plastered on a wide, fake smile as I stepped out of Fox.
“Hey,” Lai echoed, his tone flat, his eyes already scanning the car. He wanted details—the messy ones. The more I gave him, the more cooperative he’d be.
“So,” I started, gesturing vaguely. “I bought a new Mustang—”
“Wait, wait. This is a Mustang?” Lai asked, an eyebrow raised, his lip pulled back. “You’re kidding, right? It looks like shit.”
My blood froze in my veins. I couldn’t speak or move. My eyes desperately darted back to Fox, but the car didn’t indicate any murderous intent. No rev. No lurch. No immediate act of violence.
Which was somehow worse.
“At least the red one looked like a proper Mustang. Whatyear is this?” Lai peered at the sticker on the window and laughed. “1992? Gods, the 90s were a great era for fashion, but the same cannot be said for the cars. I can’t believe you bought the ugliest Mustang in existence.”
I tried to signal at Lai to shut up, but he either didn’t notice or chose not to.
Probably the second.
“It’s old,” he added as he circled the car, his cane tapping the skirting as if checking for rust. “At least it was cheap, right?”
“It’s vintage,” I finally managed, pushing Lai’s hands away from the hood. I didn’t know if Fox would bite, and I didn’t want to risk it.
Lai looked irritated by that.
“He isn’t just a car, okay?” I muttered, hoping Lai would take the hint. “He’s…”
“He?” Lai barked a laugh.
I forced a tight smile that I hoped looked like a warning. “He’s alive.”
This time, at last, Lai seemed to take me seriously. “Like magic?” He asked.
“Yeah, like magic.”
“But how?” Lai studied the car more closely. “You’re an anti-mage. Magic doesn’t work around you.”
“I know, and human magic doesn’t,” I cut in. “But living magic is different.”
Lai stared at me. Then at the car. Then back to me. “Your car is a living thing?”
I nodded, leaning in slightly until my forehead almost touched Lai’s, my voice low. “And he’s got a temper.”
That finally got through to Lai. His brows shot up, and at last he understood what I had tried to convey to him so desperately.
Don’t fuck with Fox!
Lai took a step back, wary. Fox was uncharacteristically quiet; the engine was off, ticking softly as it cooled, giving no sign that he’d heard Lai call him an ugly Mustang.
This was a mistake, I could feel it. If I left Fox here with Lai, I was sure I’d come back to a smoldering pile of rubble and tire marks. I opened my mouth to tell Lai I’d changed my mind, that I’d take Fox home and work this out, but Lai stopped me with a shake of his head.
“Look, this isn’t the first stray you’ve brought home to me,” Lai chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m definitely not adopting this one, but it—”
“Not it,” I interrupt. “Fox.”
Lai arched a brow.
