Kill The Willing: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (I Fear No Evil Book 1)

by Martha Carr

  Peyton’s eyes grew wide as he looked down at the stone. “Do you know what you have there? I couldn’t tell from the drawings of the first stone and it never occurred to me this is what you were after.” He turned in a circle, waving his arms.

  Shay rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t know what I have, but you’re the expert in magical history, so fucking deliver already.”

  He bent closer to the stone, his hands hovering just above it. “I can’t read it, but that’s an ancient Gnomic script. I’ve heard of these stones. A small number have been found in other locations. Something about celebrating the last time Earth and Oriceran were directly connected, tens of thousands of years ago.”

  “This stone has been here for a while.”

  Peyton bounced up and down. “I think those stones have been in Canada for over twenty-thousand years. They are priceless historical artifacts.”

  Shay nodded slowly. “And, they do what exactly? Open magic portals? Act as magic batteries? Create bionic animals?”

  Peyton shook his head, his face scrunching up in confusion. “No, they’re like little time capsules, really. I mean, they obviously have some magic to survive undamaged throughout the years, but they don’t do anything other than, you know… hold words. You seriously need to donate this to a museum. The few others that have been found are all in private hands.”

  A fucking time capsule with an Oriceran High School Class of 24,000 B.C. Gnome Club Was Here, message? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  Shay shook her head. “It’s not going to a museum.”

  “But, Shay, do you realize the historical implications? It’d be like finding a Chinese artifact in the New World that proves their fleet did reach California in the 15th century. You have to—”

  Peyton fell silent at Shay’s raised hand.

  “What do you see when you look at me?” Shay asked, a faint smile on her face.

  “Um, a dark-haired attractive woman?” He winced and took a step back as if he expected her to slap him over the comment.

  “Relax, already. Well, I am that, but you know what I’m not?”

  “What?”

  “A fucking volunteer.” Shay rolled her eyes. “We have a client, and he’s going to pay for it. Just because I lie to a few people about being a UCLA archaeologist doesn’t mean I act like one.” She pointed to her chest. “I do this for the money. Got it?”

  Peyton shrugged, properly abashed. “Sorry, knee-jerk response. I’m still used to hanging out with the we’ll donate anything if you put our name on the side of the building crowd. It’s like a reptile brain response. I regurgitate that bullshit before I know what I said.”

  Shay eyed him, her arms crossed. She suspected the real bullshit was his explanation.

  She didn’t care. Peyton’s belief wasn’t necessary, only his compliance.

  Shay put off the delivery till the next afternoon. She was cruising down a side street, glancing at the cargo drone camera feed on her phone.

  “How is it looking?” Peyton said over the speakerphone in the rental Honda sedan Shay was driving.

  She was making the delivery in a warehouse district far from any of her holdings. She was close enough in the rental car to hit the scene if necessary, but not so close to draw undue attention. As much as it pained her to leave the Spider, she figured a flashy red sports car might be too memorable.

  “The drone’s almost there.” Shay glanced over again at the feed, looking up in time to slow down with the traffic. “I’m placing a lot of faith in you.”

  Peyton checked the numbers he had fed into it. “It’s shielded. It’ll save it from low-level EMP, and if it gets any frequency interruptions, it’s programmed to fly back to the safe point I programmed into it. An easy hand-off. If someone does try to take the cargo, you’ll sweep in and take them out, right?”

  “Yes, but the whole fucking point is that it’s not traceable to me. Otherwise I would have delivered it directly.”

  “You’re being extra-cautious on this one,” Peyton said. “Why?”

  “Let’s just say the occasional extra bit of caution leads to fewer blowbacks.”

  Shay left out a mention of the possible survival of Snegurka. She wasn’t sure he’d handle the news well, but she couldn’t ignore that a powerful and very angry Ice Witch might be interested in tracking her ass down and freezing her in a solid block of ice. Whatever she could do to shield herself directly from exposure on this particular job was prudent.

  Shay pulled into a parking lot, pointing her car away from traffic and left the engine running.

  “Okay Peyton, there’s the contact. Maneuver the drone in.”

  A suited man in glasses was visible on the camera feed. He was patiently waiting as the cargo drone lowered itself to the ground. The man reached out, and the drone’s cargo clamps released the small box it carried into his hands.

  He gave a polite nod to the drone and turned to leave. He pulled out his phone and tapped something into it.

  Shay blew out a breath. “Okay. Here’s the moment of truth.”

  “What will you do if the client stiffs you?” Peyton asked.

  Shay gave a dark chuckle. “I’ll track him down and make him understand that’s a lethal mistake.” An alert popped up on her phone, and she grinned. “Not gonna be an issue. I’m now a million dollars richer.”

  “Do I get some sort of bonus pay?”

  Shay laughed. “I’m not paying you anything right now.”

  “Yeah, I think that’s called slavery. Not cool, Shay.”

  “We should talk salary. Everybody deserves to get paid. How about I take you out for pizza and we talk about it? My treat. We need to celebrate anyway.”

  “Fine. Just whatever we do, please don’t take me to Pasadena’s Best Pizza!”

  Shay made a gagging sound. “I’m trying to celebrate, not torture you.”

  The Spider pulled up outside of a place Shay liked but hadn’t been to in a while. Olio Pizzeria in Beverly Grove.

  Peyton glanced around the area. “Hmmm…”

  “What? This place has great pizza.” She poked him in the arm. “If you’ve been messing around with shit like Pasadena’s that proves you don’t know crap about picking good pizza.”

  “No, it’s not that. I was wondering if this was near another one of our warehouses? I’m guessing you hit places close to your warehouses.”

  Shay threw open her door. “Stop guessing, it’s safer for you that way. Get out and let’s go eat pizza.”

  Peyton followed her inside the pizzeria. No customers sat in the dining room, and no waitress or waiter waited at the front to seat them.

  “This is never good” Shay’s instincts kicked in and she looked for clues, motioning to the bar. She felt her muscles tense. “We’ll wait there.”

  Peyton looked around, more interesting in finding a seat. “The wine any good here?”

  “Yeah, it’s all right.” She looked out at the parking lot. Two more cars. Something is off.

  They headed to the bar and took a seat.

  Shay tapped her fingers impatiently against the counter. “Never seen this place so dead. There’s no way their quality went to shit that quickly…”

  Someone cried out in pain in the back.

  Shay narrowed her eyes. “Stay here. I’m gonna go check that out.” She slid off the barstool and moved toward the kitchen door.

  On the other side, the owner was slumped over and holding his stomach over his stained red apron. Three gang members stood over him, their green bandanas and t-shirts and the skull tattoos on their faces identified them as part of the Demon Generals, a local Mexican street gang. Big ass bold for the middle of the day. From what she heard they weren’t that big of a threat in the neighborhood. Things keep changing all the time.

  “Call the police…” The owner groaned, rolling onto his elbow.

  The gang members turned and looked menacingly at Shay.

  The largest of them gave her a feral grin. “L
eave now, bitch, unless you want trouble.”

  “Always with the bitch.” Shay sighed. “You see normally, other’s people shit isn’t my problem.”

  “Good, we have no problem then. Get the fuck out of here.”

  “That’s normally.”

  “What the fuck are you saying?”

  Shay shrugged, putting her hands on her hips. “It’s just I’m hungry and this place has good pizza, and you know, it’s hard to find good pizza. If you guys kill the owner, it’s gonna be an inconvenience for me. I’m asking you all nicely to go out the back door there and never come the fuck back.” She gave them her best bright smile even as her voice took on an icy edge.

  The gang member laughed and waved his arm at her. “Get a load of this crazy perra.” His smile disappeared. “You think we won’t fuck you up, bitch? Just because you’re a chick?”

  Shay cracked her knuckles. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is my punch card is almost filled for a free slice and I don’t want anything getting in the way. I’m not gonna kill you. More good news, you’re leaving soon. Bad news is I’m willing to break a few bones to make my point.”

  A thug rushed her swinging his fist, his fingers covered in heavy rings. Shay ducked to the side, jabbing the man in the base of his throat. She sent him flying back with a roundhouse kick while he was still gasping for air and holding his throat. He crashed into a stack of pizza trays.

  His friends charged, but Shay danced around the men, easily avoiding their attempts to grab her. She leapt up, smashing her knee into the face of one man, swinging from an overhead pipe. Blood spurted from his nose and he stumbled back, groaning loudly.

  Shay used the man’s falling body as a springboard to launch herself toward the other man. She slammed into him, wrapping her legs around his neck and taking him down on the hard tile floor. The gang member landed with a grunt, gasping for breath as the air was knocked out of him.

  Shay bounced to her feet, hurrying over to the downed man and jerking his arm up before bending it back and dropping down hard on her knee. The cracking humerus echoed in the room as the gang member howled in pain.

  A gang member stumbled to his feet, swaying and unsteady. His hand dropped behind his back, but Shay had her gun out and pointed before he could even touch his weapon.

  “Don’t.” Her expression was cold. “Like I said, I don’t need trouble from the cops, but if you’re aching to fucking die, there’s a lot of people in this neighborhood who won’t cry if I blew your fucking brains out right here. Take your friends and never come back here.” Shay cocked the gun ready to go either way.

  “This is me holding back. If I hear that you’re even sniffing in this direction, I’m gonna show up in the middle of the night at your crib, and I’m gonna cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat before I put a bullet in your brain. Understand, asshole?”

  The man put his hands in front of him. “I get it. I get it. We’re out.” He hurried over to help one of his groaning friends, who was cradling his broken arm, rise to his feet and limp out the back door, terror on their faces.

  Shay let out a breath and looked back at the dining room. No sign of Peyton. “Maybe a little over the top there.”

  The owner rushed over and shook her hand as she holstered her gun. “Thank you. Thank you. Those ganado have been leaning on me for protection money for months. They keep increasing the price. I thought I was going to go out of business. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

  Shay flexed her hands and straightened her jacket. “Some pizza, maybe?”

  “You can have all the pizza you want for life. This place is your home away from home, as far as I’m concerned. What do you want? Margherita pizza?”

  “Thin-crust pepperoni and sausage to start.”

  The owner looked around the kitchen, anxiously wringing his hands. “Just let me, uh, mop up some of the blood, and I’ll get that going.”

  Shay smiled. “Take your time.” With a wave, she headed back out front, pushing the swinging door.

  Peyton sat at a table, checking his phone. “Should I be calling the police? Uh, or the coroner? Heard the commotion but I’ve learned to wait for your reappearance.”

  “I was making some new friends. Eat all you want. It’s on the house.”

  21

  Shay whistled to herself as she relaxed in a chair in the cubicle living room, skimming through a tomb raiding forum. Rumors about the two missing treasure hunters from Alpha Explorers was filling up a lot of the forums in recent days. The rest of the Alpha company was attempting to quash the stories, claiming that the men had quit because they couldn’t handle the lifestyle.

  “If by the lifestyle, you mean still breathing, that’s technically true.”

  “You say something?” Peyton shuffled into the living room and fell backward into one of the lounge chairs Shay had recently purchased. The warehouse was looking more like a home than an office. Chalk one up for Peyton.

  He was in a dark mood and doing his best to stay calm.

  Shay looked up from her phone. “What’s wrong?”

  “My dad’s no longer in his coma.”

  Shay sat forward. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “No. He’s moved from coma to dead.”

  “I see… Sorry to hear it, Peyton. I know… you wanted to clear things up with him before the end.”

  Peyton shook his head. “I wanted the chance to clear the air, say a few things…”

  Shay looked away, unsure what to say. Comforting people wasn’t in her wheelhouse.

  “I need to go,” Peyton said.

  “Sure. I can take you out somewhere. To a pizza place or a movie or something to get your mind off things.”

  Peyton shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. I need to go back to Connecticut to his funeral.”

  “Not going to happen…” Shay took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “That’s not a good idea. That’s too much danger just to get a little closure.”

  “It’s not about closure. It’s more about my mother. She needs me.”

  “I’m gonna say this once, so listen up. You can’t go to that funeral. You’re dead. If anything, you showing up is just gonna make things worse for your mom. Tell me your explanation for letting her think you’re dead.”

  Peyton stood and rubbed a hand over his face. “I can at least watch from a distance.”

  “No, you can’t. It’s too risky.” Shay shook her head. “Let me give you a little advice from an ex-killer. If I wasn’t sure someone was dead, there are three good places to catch them sneaking around.” She held up one finger. “At the birth of their kid.” She held up a second finger. “At their kid’s wedding.” She held up a third finger. “And at funerals.”

  “That’s just theory.”

  “Bullshit. I’ve found and killed marks at more than one funeral.”

  “Those marks weren’t already supposed to be dead.”

  Shay stood, locking gazes with Peyton. “You can’t go. You will die if you go, and I didn’t go through all the trouble of saving your life so you can throw it away in some pointless sentimental gesture that won’t accomplish a fucking thing.”

  “How would you know it won’t accomplish anything?”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Because your father’s dead. You can sound off at him just as easily here. Hovering around his funeral does nothing for your mother and if your brother gets wind of things… Even if you don’t get popped there, he’ll know to start hunting you again, and then it’s only a matter of time.”

  “My choice.”

  “What? To fucking die?”

  “It’s my life.”

  Shay groaned. “Don’t be a fucking idiot for once.”

  “Giving a shit about your family isn’t being an idiot,” Peyton thundered.

  “You belong to the Adams Family. They really are a screa-um. I guarantee you,” Shay began, keeping her voice calm, “your siblings still have people on
the lookout for you. If anything, with your dad dying, they’ll be on hyper alert to make sure you don’t pop up out of nowhere to peel away part of the fortune.”

  “I can take care of myself, especially around my family.”

  Shay scoffed. “Remember how you got here.”

  Peyton threw up his hands. “Just because you’re good at killing doesn’t mean you’re the queen of all badasses, Shay. Sure, I had a hit on me, but I have a few technical skills.”

  “Telling yourself bullshit doesn’t make it any less bullshit. You were a rich boy ignoring the game you were playing with a dangerous crowd. The only reason you’re not dead is because I saved your life, and now you just want to throw it away.”

  Peyton snorted. “You don’t give a shit about me. I’m just a tool to you. Why do you care if your hammer runs off and gets broken? Buy another hammer.”

  “Fuck you, Peyton.” Shay wasn’t ready to admit to herself that he was that rarest of commodities in her life… a friend.

  “I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me unless you kill me.”

  Shay narrowed her eyes and took a step toward him. “I’m not a one trick pony. Locking you up for a while works just as well.”

  Peyton stood his ground, glaring at her.

  Shay’s voice was filled with venom. “If you leave, this place will be empty an hour after you get on the plane, and I’ll have a different phone number.” She stomped over to the Spider. “Do what you want.” She sounded calm despite the knot in her gut.

  She threw open the Spider’s door and slipped inside, already thinking about where she could move everything important from Warehouse Two and finally throwing out all his crap. Things could go back to the way they were, predictable.

  “Fuck that,” Shay muttered to herself, and started her car. “Maybe I should grab what I need and burn this entire damned place to the ground.” Thank God I never showed him any other Warehouses.

  Shay tapped boxing gloves with her opponent and moved backward in the ring, keeping her focus on him. She’d already forgotten his name. Trevor something. It didn’t matter. He was just an unfortunate living punching bag for her today.