The War God's Woman

6. The Spinner

Ares parked his motorbike outside of the cute cake shop. He ran his fingers through his bronze tipped hair, the thick locks spilling over his eyes, and donned a pair of sunglasses before striding confidently into the cake shop. Last time they'd seen him, he'd been injured. He'd lost serious dignity points by allowing them to dump him in a cupboard. Today, he was determined to seem impressive and recover his image.

"Zorg!" Jaz greeted from behind the cash register. The flamboyant owner of the cake shop was wearing a Hawaiian shirt combined with bright clashing shorts and flip flops. Jaz's hair was tied back in a bun, a silver streak partially hidden by a pink hair clip. He'd left his shirt unbuttoned, revealing a tanned torso and the cheeky glimpse of a tattoo. "You look much better. How was the moon?"

Ares smiled charmingly.

"Still where I left it." 

Ares glanced around the shop. They were busier today. "Can we have a word in private?"

"Sure." 

Jaz gestured for Markus to cover the till for him before leading Ares to the back room. As they walked through the cafe, Ares kept looking around for Sage but he couldn't see her.

They entered Jaz's 'office' – which was smaller than the cupboard they'd used last time. Jaz attempted to make space for Ares to sit down but accidentally caused a paper avalanche.

"Sodding Markus leaving crap everywhere..." He muttered.

"Interesting tattoo," Ares mused – his gaze on Jaz's waist. Jaz's shirt had flapped back to reveal more of his slender build.

"Thanks." Jaz dumped a stack of paperwork on the floor and gestured for Ares to sit down on a rickety chair.

"Greek."

"Huh?"

"The tattoo, it's Greek."

Jaz nodded, but made no other reply. 

Ares' expression was thoughtful. "The paintings in the shop – who did them?"

"I did, I like to paint in my spare time. I practised in here first." Jaz gestured to the walls. Ares had noticed, especially the paintings of Eros in human form. The resemblance was uncanny...

Ares reached into his bag.

"I'm grateful for your help the other day." He pulled out a cheque book. Jaz didn't hesitate and leant forward eagerly.

"Jasper Bellegrade," he offered – spelling out 'Bellegrade'. He watched over Ares' shoulder to see how much the cheque was worth and whistled appreciatively.

Before handing it over, Ares fixed Jaz with a stern look.

"If anyone asks you-"

"I have nothing to tell them." Jaz interrupted, smiling reassuringly. "You've come here for cake - like everybody else."

Ares nodded and Jaz pocketed the cheque. "I like you, Zorg." He commented brightly.

Ares didn't return the sentiment. He didn't trust this man. The silver in Jaz's hair and stubble didn't match his fresh face. He wasn't curious enough. He was too calm about this whole encounter. Ares' suspicions were piqued. What secrets was this mortal hiding?