I awoke to someone tapping my shoulder, pressing a warm mug into my hands. I looked up and found Ragnor looking down, smirking. I looked away, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and taking a small sip of the liquid. Coffee.
"Thanks." I mumbled, crossing my legs and perching back onto the lounge chair. I must have fallen asleep in the living room again. Papers were scattered on the table and I picked up the top one, glancing it over. I had finished every job dealing with mundanes I had planned for month in less than a week.
I heard Ragnor clear his throat and looked up, he was sprawled on the couch. "Find anything new?"
"Not with you hovering over my shoulder every second. How did you even get in here? I swear I put the wards up." I crumbled the paper into a small ball, throwing it lazily behind me and took another sip of coffee.
"I travel all the way from london and make you coffee and this is the thanks that I get?" Ragnor never showed up without a purpose. Not in the 300 years we'd been friends. He reached into his coat's pocket and pulled a small folded paper.
"I've got a good one." He was grinning now as he handed me the paper. I opened it and looked over the numbers carefully, looking over the crappy writing. It was a phone number.
"This lady. Calls every warlock around the world, asking if they can cure her son. She won't explain it but he's been asking for the most powerful warlock. We've decided that's you." Ragnor explains.
I sigh and down the rest of my coffee, stranding slowly to stretch the sore muscles. "This number is local. I'm assuming we're going there?"
"When you're ready." he said, jumping up and taking the cup out of my hands. "I'll get you more coffee. You're gonna need it."
I stopped as I was about to leave the living room. "Why?"
"Because they're Shadowhunters."