by Martha Carr
Shay hadn’t bothered to lie to the headmistress, even though she’d not given Alison any hint of the truth about why she was there. Something about Headmistress Berens told her it’d be pointless.
Fucking witch or elf—whatever the hell she is.
Instead, Shay had explained how Alison’s foster father had gotten wrapped up in some trouble with unsavory characters. Not that it was hard to figure it out given some of the news coverage coming out of LA
The staff didn’t seem worried. They all but laughed the threat off.
“I think you’ll find,” the headmistress had explained, “that this school has excellent defenses.”
There was only one problem with Shay’s brilliant plan. Alison had material to study and friends to chat with, and the headmistress didn’t want Shay following the girl all over campus or disturbing the students.
That had led to her eating chicken soup in the cafeteria and thumbing through her phone in the middle of the afternoon to check dark web forums for updates on Brownstone.
A young dark-haired elf girl around Alison’s age wandered by the table with a tray in hand.
Shay narrowed her eyes. Something about the girl seemed very familiar. Tension suffused into her muscles. She didn’t want to freak out on some poor kid Brownstone-style, but it wasn’t like she’d dealt with a lot of elves, let alone elf kids. She couldn’t just ignore this instinct.
Is this some sort of Yulia shit?
The elf girl stopped and blinked at Shay. “Something wrong?”
Shay shook her head. “Sorry, just looking around.”
The girl nodded. “Hey, you’re Alison’s sort-of aunt, right?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” The tomb raider laughed. “Shay.”
The girl set her tray on the table and sat across from Shay. “Izzie.”
“Izzie, huh? Didn’t expect that.”
“What?”
Shay shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I still have this stereotype that elves will have names like Windsong or something.”
“Maybe some Wood Elves. I don’t know.” The girl chuckled. Her smile vanished. “It was good of you and Mr. Brownstone to bring Alison here.”
“Oh? Glad you approve.”
Izzie nodded. “It must have been tough to lose her parents like that, but it’s really cool how you and Mr. Brownstone are helping her.”
“It’s more him than me.”
Shay couldn’t help but stare at the girl. The sense of familiarity had only grown with the conversation, both with her appearance and her voice. It went beyond the sensation of having spotted her during an earlier visit to the school. Shay had barely talked to any of the students in her previous visits, let alone this girl.
“What about you, Izzie?” Shay inquired. “Come from fifty generations of grand elf masters of magic or something?”
The girl sighed and shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I grew up in an orphanage. I never knew my parents.”
“Kind of like a guy I know.”
Izzie blinked. “Huh?”
Shay waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Tough break.” She nodded toward the door. “But now you’re in a magic school, so not everything’s bad. But you better eat your food before it gets cold.”
“Oh right. Yeah. Thanks.” Izzie smiled and picked up her fork.
Shay forced a smile as she watched the girl. Instinct had saved her life many times, and she didn’t want to ignore it now. Her instincts screamed that the orphanage story was bullshit.
The simplest explanation was that the girl was lying. She might be an elf at a magic school, but she was still a teen. She might crave a special background to impress people with. She might also be confused.
Magic sat at the heart of a much darker explanation: the spell on the front gate affected people’s memories. It wasn’t so hard to imagine the girl was under some sort of enchantment.
“Great school you’ve got here,” Shay offered.
Izzie nodded and smiled.
“Do the teachers keep a close eye on the students?”
“For the most part.”
“Glad to hear it.”
It’s a good thing I’m spending a few days here to keep an eye on Alison, just in case the threat’s inside the gate already.
Alison was sleeping…finally. Shay was still wired from her day.
Alison’s phone rang and Shay rushed to grab it. She hurried into the bathroom, closed the door, and answered the call.
“Alison, I hope it’s not too late,” Brownstone’s deep voice began. “I figured I’d call as soon as I got a chance, and it’s just...been a busy day.”
“It’s me,” Shay told him. “Alison’s asleep.”
They filled each other in on what was happening, which, given it involved Harriken bounties and exploding artifacts, took a while.
The rustle of Alison shifting in bed caught Shay’s attention.
“Okay, I think I better go. Stay alive.”
“I’m trying. Talk to you later.” Brownstone hung up.
Shay glanced down at Alison.
So this is what it means to care. It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.
Shay sat on the edge of the bed while Alison showered.
The teen emerged from the bathroom in a robe, her hair still wet.
“Look, Alison,” Shay said. “I think I should be a little more honest about what’s going on with Brownstone. I kind of gave you a line about what was going on, but that’s not really the whole truth. I thought about lying to protect you, but I think—”
“You shouldn’t lie to me,” Alison told her, tilting her head.
Shay held up a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Lying’s bad and all that. Like I said, I thought about it, but I decided against it. After everything you’ve gone through, you deserve to know when bad things are happening so you can figure out how you want to deal with them your own way.”
The girl shook her head. “No, you don’t understand, Aunt Shay. I can tell when people are lying to me now. Most of the time, anyway.”
Shay blinked. “You can tell when people are lying? That’s...handy. That’s very handy.”
As Shay explained Brownstone’s situation, the teen’s lips pursed and a dark expression settled over her face.
“Are you okay?” Shay asked when she’d finished.
Alison nodded. “I’m just...tired of people hurting the people I love. I’ll admit that I don’t like feeling this way, but I’m experiencing an overwhelming urge to hurt people.”
Shay sat down next to Alison and pulled her into an embrace. “Don’t worry, Alison. We’re gonna make sure you never have to.”
16
Shay sipped her margarita. The Charlottesville bar she’d selected was a nice low-key place. Light country played in the background, but the crowd seemed more upscale than cowboy.
The ambiance was secondary. A little booze after the last few days was hitting the spot.
She hadn’t minded spending the peaceful days with Alison, but regret still lingered in her heart. She let out a little chuckle, thinking about how the bounty hunter had solved his problem in the most ridiculous and over-the-top Brownstone way possible.
Tricking the army of hitmen onto Camp Pendleton had been flashy enough, but his frontal assault on the Harriken headquarters had surprised even her—and she’d already seen what he could do.
The authorities had only made it more spectacular by issuing a rare organizational bounty.
It was just like she’d predicted. The damned Harriken wouldn’t leave him alone, so he’d ended them in America.
Learned your lesson yet, or does he need to come over to Japan and finish you off?
At least things were over and Alison would be safe.
Her gaze roamed the room. Two men at a table in the center caught her attention and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she couldn’t figure out why.
What am I mi
ssing?
The men, both sipping beers, chatted quietly. There was nothing unusual about them, but something about the way they carried themselves insinuated itself into the back of her mind and wouldn’t go away.
The ex-killer pulled out her phone and held it up like she was going to take a selfie, but she made sure to angle the phone so the two men would be in the shot. After snapping the picture, she forwarded it to Peyton and sent him a quick text.
Need to know if these guys are trouble ASAP.
Shay returned to sipping her drink and only occasionally glanced around the bar to verify the men were still there.
Everybody had a camera, and every modern city was filled with drones. A lot of people didn’t remember that, or even if they did, they didn’t seem to care.
That made it hard to hide, even with magic. That was why Peyton and Shay had both needed to “die” rather than just move. If anyone knew to look for them, they’d be screwed.
Peyton considered those truths as he isolated the faces from Shay’s picture and adjusted the lighting to make it easier for his facial recognition algorithms to work.
He smiled. He might not be able to cook pizza worth a damn, but this kind of work was trivial for him. Even the great Shay Carson needed his help.
A check of public criminal databases wasn’t turning anything up, so he brought up a program that linked him to a few sketchier underworld databases. Even scumbags and criminals appreciated the value of collating data and having it accessible via a convenient API. The trick was mostly knowing who to pay to get access to that sort of thing.
His computer beeped; he’d found a match in seconds.
“Damn I’m good.” He brought up the record. “Ah, that explains why it popped up so quickly. They’re the kind of scumbags who want to pretend they aren’t.”
Bryce Smith and John Southward, both sergeants with Grayson Private Military Contracting Services.
There were a lot of PMC companies all over the world with different levels of repute, but the Grayson crew were nothing more than vicious mercenaries who didn’t care who hired them as long as they got paid.
They also happened to be the company that lost dozens of men in the raid on Belmont House. It hadn’t been Brownstone’s fault, but they didn’t know that. It wasn’t like Shay or Brownstone, at least as far as Peyton knew, had gone out of their way to clarify that.
Angry mercenaries hanging out in the same city as Alison struck Peyton as the very definition of trouble.
Both those guys are with Grayson PMC Services.
Thanks, Peyton. That’s helpful.
Shay sighed. The coincidence of two Grayson mercenaries being in a bar close to the School for Necessary Magic with a picture of Alison was too great to ignore.
How the fuck did they get a picture of Alison? Not good.
Twenty minutes later the men got up to leave, and Shay rose and headed to the front while they were still standing over their table. She hurried out of the bar and peeked into a nearby alley. The security camera near the end might make things difficult for her.
“Hey, guys,” she called, fluttering her eyelashes and speaking in that higher pitch again. “I drank...a lot tonight.” She ran a hand up her side. “I’m Stephanie. What are your names?”
“I’m John,” one of the men offered.
“Kendrik,” the other chimed in.
Shay leaned forward and took a deep breath. A low-cut dress rather than a T-shirt and leather jacket might have been helpful right about then, but acting would have to make up for it. She locked eyes with Kendrik.
John shrugged. “We can do the other thing tomorrow. Not like the girl’s going anywhere.”
You’re damn right Alison’s not going anywhere.
Shay sashayed into the alley, and the two grinning men hurried after her.
When they were out of view of the street, Shay reached into her back pocket and gestured for John and Kendrik to come closer.
Both men stepped forward, eager for what she was offering.
Shay pulled out a stiletto switchblade and pressed the button, and the blade extended with a click.
A minute later, she pulled out a small case. She considered leaving her card on the bodies, but decided not to.
“No. They’ll just have to wonder.”
17
Shay tossed the cell phone she’d recovered in Hokkaido on Peyton’s desk. “That’s my present for you. I went all the way to Japan to get it.”
Peyton eyed her with suspicion. “I already have a phone. I like my phone.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s the phone I grabbed from those assholes on the Ainu job. You said you could crack it.”
“Oh, almost forgot. Yeah, that’ll be easy.” He snorted. “Give me something hard to do.”
“Do you need something harder? Wouldn’t want you to get bored and start ordering more random shit for the warehouse. Maybe I can send you after Snegurka.”
“What about Snegurka?” Lily came in, busy sticking a pen inside of her cast, trying to scratch an itch. “I can’t wait to get this thing off. What about the Ice Witch? Has she been spotted again?”
“Easy, Lily. I haven’t forgotten about your quest. Peyton thinks cracking the phone is too easy for him. You want to take a stab at it?”
Peyton grinned and waved his hands in front of his face. “No, no. It’s fine. I love it when things are easy. I’ll do it.”
“Good. Now that Brownstone’s not going to be attacked for five seconds, I can concentrate on being a tomb raider again.”
“Can you believe what happened? The guy took on an entire building by himself.” Peyton shook his head. “If I was on his bad side, I think I’d just shoot myself rather than face him. That guy’s like a force of nature.”
Shay snickered. “Yeah, the man does kick a lot of ass when he wants to, which seems to be a lot lately.”
“When do I get to meet the myth?” Lily sat on the couch, crossing her legs underneath.
“Not yet.”
“Let me do the Shay to English translation for you,” said Peyton. “He doesn’t know you exist yet.”
Shay flicked the side of Peyton’s head, eliciting a yelp. “Soon-ish.” Shay bit her lip, trying to figure out how to ease a teenager into a new idea. Blurt it out might work. “What would you think about going to a fancy boarding school for kids your age with magical abilities? Fresh air, no danger, hone your skills, make friends.”
“No, no and no.”
“Well, at least she thought about it carefully,” said Peyton, who ducked at the sight of Shay’s cold, steely glare. “Backing out of conversation now.”
“You would make an even better tomb raider.”
“Adult lie number one. I’ll make a better tomb raider hanging out here. This is my trade school.”
“What if I ordered you to go?”
“I’d run away and become your competition a little earlier than planned.”
Shay let out a snort as Peyton rolled his eyes and slowly backed across the room, finding something to do around the pizza oven.
“You’re years away from giving me a run for any of my money.”
“Still running away and we’d see. I’m not going. This was the deal we made and either you abide by our agreed terms or you made a deal in bad faith.” Lily set her jaw, standing up from the couch and her one good arm on her hip.
But Shay saw the tears in her eyes. The kid thinks I’m done with her. “Forget I mentioned it. It was a half-baked idea. You’re right. Trade school.”
Lily wiped her face with her sleeve, her jaw still set.
That probably set us back a bit, thought Shay.
“I wonder if Brownstone uses any sort of magical items?” Peyton furrowed his brow, walking back into the fray, doing his best to change the subject. “You’ve worked with him. What kind of equipment does he have?”
“Not really sure.” Shay shrugged. She glanced over at Lily and even took a step toward her to try a hug, but th
e girl backed away. Maybe tomorrow.
It was a half-truth. She didn’t know much about the amulet. She knew what it did, but she didn’t know the nature of its magic or the source of its power.
Brownstone had his reasons for using the item in front of her, and it spoke to the trust he had in her. The existence of the amulet wasn’t her information to pass along to anyone just yet. If Peyton got pissy about it later, she’d tell him as much. It wasn’t like she was going to Brownstone and telling him Peyton’s life story.
“And that Marine thing!” Peyton whistled. “Damn. How does a guy even plan something like that? Would you have thought of something like that?”
Shay smirked. “I doubt I could have gotten a bunch of Marines to help me, but it doesn’t matter. It looks like we got ourselves a Brownstone fanboy.” She smiled and looked at Lily, but she had wandered into the office and her back was turned.
Shay patted the phone. “Get this unlocked, and maybe I’ll get you his autograph.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. I’m just saying I respect his skills.”
“Not saying I don’t.” Shay shrugged. “Just keep in mind, Brownstone’s a bounty hunter. He doesn’t have the…checkered past we do.”
“I don’t really have a checkered past. It’s mostly just my brother trying to kill me.”
“Brownstone doesn’t have to hide, is all I’m saying. It’s good for us both to remember the position we’re in.” She nodded to the phone. “And you’ve got work to do.”
Peyton nodded. “Yeah, I do.” He walked off, shoulders slumped.
Shay sighed. Great, I’ve pissed off everyone today. I win. Is there a grownup around to hang with? Where’s that damn cat?
She believed everything she’d said, but she was trying to convince herself as much as Peyton.
Get out of my head, Brownstone.
