by Martha Carr
Brownstone scrubbed a hand over his face. “Keep this to yourself for now.”
Peyton’s stomach tightened. He’d worked long and hard to earn Shay’s trust, and unless he were deluding himself, he’d even earned her friendship. Keeping something like this from her might unravel those bonds.
“You serious? Shay needs to know.”
Brownstone shook his head. “You heard me. Shay needs to concentrate on this cartel shit. This AET crap is my fault, because they have such a hard-on for taking me down. Let me handle it. I’ll work something out.”
Peyton sighed. “You sure? This seems like something I should tell her.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is going to end with her pointing a gun at me, I just know it. Is “your boyfriend told me to keep it a secret” a good enough defense with Shay?
“I’ll solve the problem,” Brownstone rumbled. “For now, Shay needs to be focused. Besides, if I can take down the Harriken and help take down a cartel, I can get a few cops off Shay’s ass.”
Peyton took a bite of the sausage pizza and frowned. It wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t great. Something was still missing—that subtle technique or ingredient that would elevate him from Pizza Pawn to Pizza King.
Still no sign of Lily, but he wasn’t going to worry, yet. Focus on the pizza instead.
He nodded to himself. At least he was close to getting Shay to acknowledge his greatness. For now, he at least had a steady source of lunch and dinner.
Shay’s little cartel-cleaning trip with her buff beau had gone well, and the Nuevo Gulf Cartel was a few men away from being a footnote. She’d called him to let him know she had to take down a few guys in Europe and would be back to LA after that.
He rubbed his chin, incidentally removing a bit of sauce.
What the hell am I supposed to do when she gets back? Brownstone still hasn’t handled this AET shit. How long am I supposed to keep it from Shay? If she finds out on her own, she’ll realize I already knew.
Peyton glanced at the pizza oven. If he could achieve the ultimate pizza, he might be able to distract her enough to avoid a gun to the face.
That’s my plan? Survive Shay by the application of pizza?
He grinned. The more he thought about it, the better the plan seemed.
His phone rang, and he grabbed it, assuming it was Shay. He blinked when he spotted Brownstone’s number.
Okay, play it cool. Don’t mention the pizza plan. Just act like Slick Mercenary Hacker Peyton.
“Hey, are you calling to make me richer?” the researcher answered.
“Shay’s still in Europe, right?”
“Yep. Why? Worried?”
“Nah. I just found a solution to the AET shit.”
Peyton’s heart kicked up. A plan where he didn’t have to bake the ultimate pizza was always a good one.
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a woman sitting in the Leanan Sídhe right now who looks like Shay.”
“They say everyone has a twin. Guess you have a type, huh, Brownstone?”
The bounty hunter grunted. “She’s a fucking clone. She’s wearing one of Shay’s dresses and some of her perfume. She’s flirting with me like she’s never seen a man before. And she’s being too nice and calling me James.”
Peyton frowned. If Shay had returned from Europe early, she would have at least dropped him a text about it.
“Okay, that’s…suspicious and not very Shay.”
“Yeah. If AET wants Shay so badly, they can fucking have her twin instead. I don’t know who this bitch is, but she’s probably not gonna take me out for barbeque, so I figure we get her barbequed instead.”
Peyton laughed. “Damn, you’re ruthless. What’s the plan?”
“Do your computer shit and send an anonymous tip to AET that the killer from NY will be at Lincoln Park in an hour.”
“You want AET to go after some strange woman in the middle of a public park?”
“They’re cops, they’ll clear that shit out. That’s why I’m giving them an hour.”
Peyton whistled. “You really think this will work?”
“I think AET wants a scalp, so I’m giving them one. Can you do it? And how much will it cost?”
“This is for Shay. It’s on the house.”
6
Shay stared at Peyton as he stepped out of the Warehouse Two office. Today’s sartorial choices included slippers and an ornate Japanese robe decorated with a floral pattern. In another circumstance it might have looked elegant, but not on a man shuffling away from his computer desk with a can of Mountain Dew in his hand.
“Really?” She pointed to his robe. “You know, when I was on the plane, I was entertaining myself by trying to figure out what strange outfit you might wear next. Sometimes you’re so close to having a clue, and other times I’m convinced you’re snorting all the dust in the county in the morning before choosing your wardrobe.”
Peyton shrugged. “This isn’t weird. Plenty of Japanese men wear something like this.” He sipped his soda.
“Yeah, sure, probably on the weekend in their houses. And in Japan, not at work in a secret warehouse in Los Angeles.” Shay gestured around the building.
“We’re in a global economy. Well, say what you want, at least it’s memorable.”
Shay laughed. “You’ve got me there.”
“Exactly. You get to coast by with the femme-fatale thing, but I’m making my mark by being fashion-forward.”
“There’s such a thing as a man being ahead of his time.”
Peyton nodded. “Sure, sure. Anyway, I was trying to get into character. Not a big deal.” He set his can down on a nearby table and sighed.
“’Into character?’ What, you’re trying to get into the mind of some rich new Japanese client or something? This some kind of visualization exercise?”
If that sort of thing motivated his clothing choices, many of them made even less sense than before—or some of their clients were far freakier than she’d realized.
Peyton shook his head. “The Japanese are famous for loyalty and all that.” The corners of his mouth pulled up in a smile, and he rubbed his hands together.
Shay didn’t like the direction the conversation was going. “And why do you need to get into the mindset of a loyal person?”
“Uh, just, you know, always a good thing. Loyalty, that is.” Peyton shrugged.
Fuck. Please don’t have screwed me, Peyton. I actually like you at this point, and I even gave Brownstone a big speech about how the old Shay was dead. Don’t bring her back, Mr. Fancy Robe. I almost want to believe what Alison’s told me about my soul not looking like a piece of shit.
She’d already disabled his Deadman’s Switch and hadn’t received any alerts about him bypassing her efforts. In terms of pure computer skills, Shay would acknowledge, at least to herself, that the man had the edge over her. However, his lack of killer instinct and its accompanying paranoia would always put him at a disadvantage.
Peyton kept rubbing his hands together and looking everywhere but into her eyes. Not a great sign.
Shay shot a smile at the researcher and pulled off her jacket to hang on a hook inside the office. “You look nervous, Peyton.”
He swallowed. “I’m not nervous. Why should I be? I’ve got a beachfront apartment and an awesome cat.”
Osiris meowed on cue from the other end of the warehouse. The little furball had gone from lounging around the office to hiding half the time in recent weeks.
Shay slowly pulled her gun out of her holster. She didn’t aim it at her assistant, but instead let the hand with the gun hang loosely at her side.
“Where’s Lily?” Shay’s expression grew dark. “What happened?”
Peyton’s gaze dipped to the weapon. “Uh, Shay?”
“Just remembered I need to clean it. It’s gotten a lot of use in the last few days. Figured I’d do that while I was here and not running right off to a job.”
“Okay. Just to be clear, you’re
not planning on shooting me, are you?”
Shay took in a long slow breath. “Not unless you give me a reason, so go ahead and spill whatever is eating you. Start with where Lily is.”
Peyton’s face scrunched, and he groaned. He held up his hands in front of him. “Okay, first, I don’t know where Lily is. Don’t wave the gun! The kid slips out of here on occasion. She used to bother with excuses, now, she just goes. Unless I was cleared to duct tape her to a chair that’s gonna happen. She’s a damn gray elf. I’m not sure the tape would even hold her.”
Shay knew Peyton was right. What was she thinking even taking in that girl? She took a quick glance around the warehouse and wondered if it was time to burn the place. “Second thing?” she asked, swinging her attention back to Peyton.
“I guess I’m loyal to a fault, at least to one person at a time.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m starting to get confused here, and when I get confused, I get pissed.”
“I would have told you earlier, but Brownstone told me not to. It’s hard to say no to the Scourge of Harriken, the Granite Ghost, the Alien Ass-kick—”
“Shut it.” Shay narrowed her eyes and holstered her weapon. No reason for intimidation now that the man was talking. Well, babbling, but it was a form of communication. “Told you to not tell me what?”
“AET was after you. They got a partial image from the LAX fight. Even with your disguise, the FBI was starting to link it to you, at least the old you back in New York. It looked like they were closing in.”
“Shit, really?” Shay frowned. “And Brownstone knew? How did you find out? He told you, but he didn’t tell me? What the fuck is up with that? He barely knows you.”
“Uh, it was kind of the other way around.”
“How so?”
“I found out about the AET stuff, and I mentioned it to him.” Peyton held his hands in front of his chest. “He told me he would handle it. That you needed to concentrate on kicking cartel ass.”
Shay shrugged. “I did, kind of, but that doesn’t change anything. You’re telling me that you had information that police might have identified me and you held it back?”
“I’m sorry. Look, I’m telling you now, even though the Alien Ass-kicker didn’t want me to.”
“Stop calling him ‘the Alien Ass-kicker.’”
Peyton chuckled.
“Anyway, I saved your life. Always remember that.”
“You’ve also threatened it several times.”
“Details.” Shay went into the office and slumped into a chair. “Fuck. AET? Now I have to figure out how to get them off my ass.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Brownstone already did, and I helped.” Peyton stood up taller, a huge grin splitting his face.
“Huh? What the hell did you two do?”
“You see, there was some sort of witch or somebody pretending to be you. She was hitting on Brownstone and he figured out it wasn’t you, so he set AET on her with my help.” Peyton whistled. “Check out the news. It was a hard-core battle. I don’t think Brownstone realized how tough it would be. AET ended up killing her. As far as the LAPD and FBI are concerned you’ve been killed twice now, and I’ve poked around in the LAPD systems to confirm it. They aren’t looking at you anymore, figuring the body they have is the infamous hitman the FBI was tracking.”
Shay crossed her arms. “Let me get this straight… When I was off in Europe finishing off the last few high-level members of the Nuevo Gulf Cartel, you and Brownstone were sitting around conspiring to trick cops into assassinating random witches pretending to be me? Meanwhile, a teenage girl gave you the slip.”
Peyton looked to the side for a moment before nodding. “A teenage magical girl, but yeah, that about sums it up. Good news, Brownstone never saw her.”
“You’re both more ruthless than I realized.” Shay snickered. “I kind of like it.” She shook her head. “And why was she pretending to be me? Maybe she’s some friend of Yulia’s.”
“Don’t know. From what Brownstone said, she was trying to get into his pants. I don’t know if it was part of some strategy to get close to him for something else, or if she just wanted a little out-of-this-world bedtime fun.”
“Fucking bitch. She’s lucky she’s dead already.” Shay’s phone beeped, and she yanked it out of her pocket. She glared down at the alert. “I’ve got to go. The gnome’s back in town.” She shot up and snatched her coat from the hook. “By the way, next time you tell me first, not Brownstone.”
“I’m telling you now.”
“Yeah, but next time tell me right away.”
Surprise spread across Peyton’s face. “Not going to threaten to kill me?”
Shay slipped on her coat. “The fact that you have to look at yourself in the mirror in those outfits is punishment enough. Keep an eye out for Lily, or short of that keep an eye out that she’s betrayed us and we need to leave.”
Shay took a deep breath and forced her eyes not to slide off the entrance to Prophecy Gaming. Despite all her visits to the shop, it still took all her concentration not to be misled by the glamour defending it.
She maneuvered through the thick mall crowd separating her from the shop and stepped inside. No one manned the front, so she headed directly toward the back room. The door to the back opened before she completed her trip and Tubal-Cain stepped out with a thin smile on his small face.
Shay couldn’t tell if he was happy, or amusedly contemptuous of her presence. A little poke might help clarify the situation.
She still hadn’t dealt with the gnome enough to get a true feel for his limits, which meant she was still at a disadvantage even before taking into account that the little man was vastly older than her—or maybe even human civilization.
“Got your message.” Shay reached into her pocket to produce the orb. “And thanks for the assist. It was damned helpful there, Rumpelstiltskin.”
The gnome’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not Wrinkledforeskin.”
“I said ‘Rumpelstiltskin,’ you dick.”
“You humans are so strange,” he remarked in an amused tone.
Shay sighed and shook her head, not sure if the gnome had actually misheard her.
“Look, the point is, I owe you, and I always pay my debts—especially when they are to my local gnome, who has hooked me up more than once. I know you don’t give a shit about cash, but I already proved with the adamantine that I can get hard-to-find items.”
A hungry smile appeared on his face. “Hard-to-find items?”
Shay squared her shoulders. “Yep. I’m not going to Oriceran, but if it’s on Earth, I can get it.”
“I have no need of items from you. Not yet.”
Shay narrowed her eyes. “I’m not killing anyone for you.”
The gnome snorted. “I’m the one who left you the note about misuse, remember? I have no need of an assassin.”
“Then what do you want?”
Tubal-Cain’s face softened, and he folded his hands behind his back. “The problem, you see, is that Earth is annoying.”
“Well, I agree. I’m sure Oriceran’s annoying, too. What’s that have to do with anything?”
“You’ve demonstrated the ability to find not only things but also information, Miz Carson. I want to take advantage of that to have you find a missing cousin of mine.”
“Not saying I won’t help, but don’t you have some sort of tracking spell you can use? That seems like that’d be easier than hiring a tomb raider to moonlight as a private detective.”
The gnome shrugged. “Oh, I’ve access to myriad enchantments, spells, and artifacts with such functions.” His face twisted in irritation. “But they have all proven less than useful. With your skills and penchant for running into dangerous situations and managing not to die, I thought you might be helpful in this regard.”
“Is your cousin in trouble?” Shay inquired.
“Not necessarily, but he might be. Maybe not. You never know.”
>
“Okay then, you need me to locate him?”
“Yes. He used to go by ‘Bosvid,’ but I can’t be sure what name he might be using on Earth now.” Tubal-Cain frowned. “I’ll be honest with you. I’m a recent immigrant, and my connections aren’t always as strong as I’d like.”
Shay blinked, surprised the gnome would confide something like that to her. Trust, or perhaps desperation.
“Okay, this sounds doable. You have any information about your cousin that might be helpful besides his name? Are you sure he’s even on Earth? I’m a badass tomb raider and researcher, but I’ve never been to Oriceran, and I don’t even have a reliable means of getting there.”
“That’s not a problem,” Tubal-Cain replied. “What little I have managed to find points to my cousin having been on Earth as recently as three hundred years ago.”
As recently as three hundred years ago? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Shay sighed. “Anything else?”
“Yes. I can narrow down the search area considerably.”
“Oh? Where was he last seen?”
“Europe.” Tubal-Cain gave a triumphant smile.
Shay resisted a groan, again unsure if the gnome was serious or screwing with her.
“I’ll start poking around,” she offered. “And see what I can turn up.”
“Excellent. Is there anything else you want from me? I do appreciate the difficulty in finding Bosvid, and I think it’s worth more than just a loan of an artifact.”
“Well, if you’re offering, a magical lockpick would come in handy.” Shay shrugged.
"Very well. I may know of something you could use. Come back to me with the information, and I'll see what I can do."
Shay’s eyes fluttered open and she rolled onto her side on the bed, bumping into the solid mass of muscle that was James Brownstone. She watched him for a moment, a soft smile playing on her lips.
When she’d stopped at his newly rebuilt house the night before, she hadn’t been sure about pushing their relationship forward, but now that they’d slept together an unfamiliar sensation filled her: contentment.
