by Martha Carr
“Huh. Any way to verify that?”
“Partially. Being the Fixer does have its advantages. I’ve examined this meteorite using various powerful spells, and I’ve determined several important things. It is indeed a meteorite, and it has magical biological residue on it.”
He moved his hand, and glowing green lines appeared on the meteorite image.
Shay tilted her head as she examined the lines. “Was this some sort of attack, or a colonize-the-Earth-with-alien-spores thing?”
“I can’t be sure, but I don’t believe so.” Correk shook his head. “There are limits to even my magic, but I was able to determine this was part of a burial of some sort. A funeral offering. I was also able to verify that this meteorite doesn’t originate on Earth or Oriceran, but it was discovered on Earth.”
“Okay, so our boys had an interstellar Viking funeral. That’s not a super-concern, not that I don’t want to dig deeper.”
The elf waved his hand, and the image rotated to reveal several symbols. Shay’s heart rate kicked up. She didn’t recognize most of them, but one had already been seared into her brain as she spent hours looking at it on a picture of James’ amulet.
So, he is linked to all this shit. Damn. That means that Durand asshole might start snooping around him eventually.
No, wait. It’s fine. He doesn’t wear it where people can see it. There’s no way the government will ever know to go after him as long as I keep him far away from all this shit.
Shay forced a smile. Exchanging information with Correk didn’t mean he needed to know everything. For all she knew, the Fixer might decide that James was a threat who needed to be eliminated. The less he knew about James Brownstone, the better.
Correk gestured toward the image. “When we talked before, you mentioned translating the phrase ‘Already here.’”
“Yeah, that’s all my people have been able to ascertain, but you said we didn’t know what that means. That it could mean all sorts of things.”
“True, but you’ve mentioned six-hundred-year-old artifacts and three-hundred-million-year-old artifacts. The stone you collected for the Professor wasn’t that ancient, but it was still very, very old.”
“Yeah? I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
Correk pointed at the spinning meteorite. “This meteorite is mere decades old, not thousands or millions.”
“Shit.”
“Indeed. I’m glad you appreciate the implications.” The elf flicked his wrist, and the image vanished. “So, they, whoever they are, are already here. They came here some time ago, and I believe they’re still here.”
Shay exhaled slowly. “But who are ‘they,’ exactly?”
Is there some other person like James out there? Even if there is, everyone would just assume they are magical. Or maybe James was sent here to escape them?
Correk frowned. “I’m not totally sure. My analysis tells me they possess some unique abilities. They leave a trail like magic, but it’s not quite magical.” He shook his head. “I honestly can’t be sure. The only thing I can be sure of is that Earth is a lot more interesting than anyone on Earth or Oriceran realizes.”
Shay leaned back in her chair with a frown. “If the government has any clue about this, it would explain why they’ve hired people like Durand. This isn’t some history lesson to them. They might be thinking there’s an invasion going on.”
“And they might be right. It’s not like Earth and Oriceran have a monopoly on evil people.”
“Or it might be nothing, or just a few alien tourists.”
James isn’t a fucking invader. A crying and scared kid doesn’t invade a planet, but maybe he was a mistake? Maybe his parents were supposed to come with him. A bunch of amulet-wearing assassins might be running around planning to take out all the major world leaders, for all I know.
Shay shook her head. She couldn’t be sure of anything other than that she would protect James from both Correk and himself if necessary.
I guess this is what love is—protecting your alien boyfriend from some Light Elf responsible for helping all magical beings on a planet.
Fuck, this is complicated!
“It doesn’t matter what the truth is,” Correk commented softly. “It only matters what the government believes.”
“That’s what you think the government is really trying to stop?”
“Yes. Good luck kicking out the actual aliens.”
24
Shay kept both hands on the wheel as she pulled away from the meeting, every muscle in her body tense. She’d originally gotten involved in the alien mess only because of some chance information Peyton had found about a missing tomb raider.
Alien invasions? Ancient aliens who aren’t so ancient, and somehow James is wrapped up in all this. What the hell?
She didn’t know what to believe about the strange elf she’d fought in Mexico. She wasn’t sure if he was an alien-infested host body or a demon who wanted to find an alien planet to invade. Maybe he was just a nutty elf.
No, that couldn’t be true, not totally. The stone was a genuine alien artifact, and Project Nephilim and Project Ragnarok were both interested in the alien stones. The government wouldn’t be spending piles of money and hiring elite retrieval specialists if there wasn’t something real.
Shay sighed. “And here I thought faking my death and shifting from being a hitman to a tomb raider would be the most complicated shit I had to worry about.”
Was she doing the right thing by keeping the rest of the truth from James? The man was finding a bit of peace after years of being alone in his relationships with both her and Alison. His issues handling emotions made more sense now that she understood his true background.
No. Fuck it. James can’t do anything about it. This is a job for a tomb raider and a Fixer, not a bounty hunter, even if he’s the toughest fucking bounty hunter on this planet. He doesn’t need the fucking stress.
Shay yanked on the wheel, taking a hard turn at an intersection. She’d protect her man, no matter what she needed to do. She might not be an alien, but giving a shit about another person was as new to her as it was to James.
Her phone buzzed and she picked it up, expecting a text from Peyton or Correk. Instead, it was from an unknown number. The message was straightforward enough.
I understand you’ve been looking for me. I’m at Prophecy Gaming right now.
Shay snorted. “Oh, you’re finally back in fucking town, Tubal-Cain? What is this, the official Oriceran Abrupt Meeting Night?”
The one thing Shay could say about the night was that finding Prophecy Gaming was far less annoying than it usually was. Maybe she was just getting better at concentrating and beating that redirection glamour.
Tubal-Cain sat in a chair and looked up at her expectantly, and Shay tossed a few pictures on the table in the backroom.
“What’s this?”
“You wanted me to find your cousin. This is evidence I think might at least lead to him.”
Several of the pictures were satellite photos of a nondescript farm, with a few other ground-level photos of the same boring-ass farm. One photo revealed the dozens of gnomes who were hidden from normal sight, the split-second image Peyton had ripped from the drone feed.
Shay didn’t feel the need to inform the gnome how she’d set her assistant to the task, especially since she still had mixed feelings about the whole thing. Peyton leaving LA to go to Iowa hadn’t been the smartest move, but she couldn’t expect the man to hide his entire life. She hadn’t even bothered to avoid Nuevo Gulf Cartel territory after faking her death, and they had been the reason for it.
Tubal-Cain leafed through the pictures. “A hidden gnome colony. That explains why my magic failed. So many gnomes gathered together requires extra security. Where is this place?”
“Iowa, not all that far outside Des Moines.”
The gnome frowned. “Iowa. They could hide anywhere, but they chose Iowa?”
Shay shrugged. “Maybe they really like co
rn. What are they gonna do? Come to LA and enjoy our lovely smog?” She chuckled.
“I’ve never been to Iowa.”
“I’ve been there before. Had an interesting time.”
The gnome quirked a brow. “’Interesting time?’”
Shay waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Just human stuff.”
Yeah, admitting I offed a guy in the airport there won’t make Tubal-Cain more comfortable with me.
“I’ll need more information,” the gnome explained. “Just knowing the general area isn’t enough.”
“No problem. I can get you coordinates, directions, and all that. Then you can go to the Hidden Valley of the Gnomes or whatever, but there’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”
Shay pointed at the photo containing the gnomes. “You didn’t give us a description of your cousin, so we can’t be a hundred percent certain he’s there. I figure you can at least ask your buddies there if they’ve heard him, right?”
Tubal-Cain held up the photo and pointed to a gnome sitting at the end of a long table. “That’s Bosvid right there. Looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him.” He set the picture down, an odd look in his eyes. “I have to say I’m rather impressed, Miz Carson.”
“I’m not exactly a rookie, Tubal-Cain.” Shay snorted, imagining Durand sitting in the chair for a moment.
“Oh, by my standards, you’re too inexperienced to even be worthy of a title like ‘rookie.’”
Shay snorted. “Finding things is my business. You didn’t think I was gonna be able to find the adamantine, and I did.”
“True. I should stop underestimating you, human.”
“Yeah, you should.”
His gaze dropped to the photo. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you found Bosvid when I couldn’t.”
Shay allowed herself a smirk. “Yeah, I did.”
“You have my respect for that, Miz Carson. It couldn’t have been easy.”
Well, easy for me. I just told Peyton to do it.
“We discussed a little additional compensation.”
The gnome nodded. “Yes, I believe we did.”
Tubal-Cain stood and reached behind his back. He slowly pulled a velvet bag in front of him.
Shay blinked. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“Somewhere.” He tossed the bag to her.
The tomb raider snatched the bag out of the air and looked inside. She blinked. “Uh, a paperclip? Seriously?”
Tubal-Cain cackled. “It’s a magical lockpick. Bet you didn’t think I could do it.”
Shay shrugged. She didn’t have doubts about his capabilities, but if the gnome wanted to think he was unpredictable, it wouldn’t hurt to let him go on believing that.
He pointed toward the bag. “Simply unbend it and stick it in the lock. Say the incantation three times.”
“Is this another weird gnome thing I have to memorize?”
“No. It’s in your language this time. ‘Open through will, open through heart, open through belief.’ Do I need to write it down?”
“Might as well. Don’t want to wake up tomorrow with a worthless magical lockpick.” Shay smiled. “I appreciate this, Tubal-Cain. It will come in very handy on a lot of my jobs.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will.” He waggled a finger. “But I must warn you, Miz Carson…”
“What? Don’t get it wet after midnight or something like that?”
The gnome shook his head. “This is a more powerful magical artifact than you realize. All magic is fickle and has rules. This is no exception.”
“But you already told me the rules. Unbend it and use the incantation. What’s the big deal?”
“No, that’s how to use it. Those aren’t the rules.”
Why does magic have to be so fucking annoying? Living on Oriceran must be a nightmare.
Shay frowned. “What are the rules, then?”
“You’ll find out, but the most important one is to remember that misuse has consequences. Use this item for darkness, and it will turn dark and eventually fail you.”
“And turn me into a bird,” Shay muttered, looking down.
“A bird? Maybe. Odd things happen, at least by human standards, when powerful magical artifacts are misused.”
Shay sighed and looked back up. “But how will I know if I’ve…offended the lockpick? Do I chat with it or something?”
“You’ll know. It’ll tell you one way or the other.” The gnome reached into his pocket and produced a handwritten note with the activation incantation. “Thank you, Miz Carson. I’m sure we’ll have reason to do business again.”
“I never doubted it.”
25
The next morning Shay stopped for coffee at a small shop tucked next to her favorite old book store. There was a line, but it was steadily moving. Most people in line just wanted a large cup of black coffee so they could get back on the road.
Shay stood in line, not making eye contact with anyone in particular, doing a routine check of the crowd, inside and out. Just as she turned her head to the right she caught a glimpse of someone staring right at her before he quickly ducked out of view.
“Shit,” she muttered, drawing a bored look from the man behind her. She immediately abandoned her place in line and rolled out of the shop, searching the street.
She had spotted a former New York City connection, an old rival who had almost as many professional kills as Shay, till she was presumed dead.
He had been close enough to get a good look at her face and she saw the recognition in his eyes. She had to find him fast.
Shay glanced up at the windows above her and looked around as much as she dared, glancing down alleys. She saw him turning a corner at the end of an alley and she hesitated. It occurred to her he may be drawing her in further.
Make the kill, then let everyone know she had still been alive. Think Shay, use your old skills. What would you do if you were the hunter instead of the prey?
She peered out from the corner slowly, and as predicted a bullet whizzed too close to her head, barely making a noise. She pulled out her gun and tried again, getting off a shot before ducking back.
There wasn’t a lot of time before someone would notice a gun battle between two well-dressed people with no camera crew in sight and call the cops. She turned around, ready to retreat and figure out a different option when she saw two thugs approaching from the other end. He had friends with him.
“Fuck me. I picked a bad moment to get stupid.” A straight alley with only a few doors. She had to pray one of them was unlocked or that her parkour skills were greatly improved. and she could scale a building in a skirt.
Shay rolled to her right as the two men calmly raised their guns and she neatly picked off the one on the right, catching him in the shoulder and disabling his arm. Good enough for now. The other ducked behind a dumpster giving Shay a chance to look for an exit.
She pulled at the first door she got to and found it locked. Damn. Only two more to go. She turned and fired off another round, holding off one assailant as her old rival came around from the other side.
These are my last fucking seconds. Brownstone. Shay felt a surge of anger. Not going out, just when things got to be good. She pivoted shooting first in one direction and then the other, jiggling the second door. Nothing.
She heard the sound of a loud crow overhead as she reached for the third door. Faces appeared over the edge of the buildings, pelting the gunman behind the dumpster with rocks and small, glowing fireballs. At the front of the crowd Shay saw the long gray hair. “Lily,” she whispered.
The gunman stood, trying to get off a shot at the teenagers on the rooftops, giving Shay the opportunity she needed. A clean kill right through the head.
She turned, her finger already squeezing the trigger, certain it was going to be a close race. She had only a moment to aim, even as she was pressing her back against the wall, determined to keep her eyes open and see wha
t was coming.
A well-aimed rock hit her old rival’s arm in just the right place and his bullet nicked the top of her shoulder. Shay did him one better and her bullet passed cleanly through his neck. He instinctively reached up and pressed a hand against the gurgle, even as he dropped to his knees and fell back.
The teenagers came pouring off the top of the building, surrounding Shay as Lily pushed her way to the front.
“That was your rock, wasn’t it?” asked Shay, her heart still pounding. “You got a premonition.” Thank God for her twitch muscles.
“I saw it all, but I didn’t know if I’d be able to change the outcome.” Lily’s words came out in a rush. “I’m sorry I ran away. I needed to see my friends and I didn’t know how to choose. There wasn’t a way to be in both worlds. I want to be a tomb raider and help Peyton but…” It was the most she had ever said to Shay at one time. Just as quickly, she stopped talking and wrapped her arms around Shay’s neck, squeezing tight.
Shay realized she was still holding up her gun and lowered it, hugging the girl back. “We need to get out of here,” she whispered. “Dead bodies tend to attract law enforcement.”
“I know a way,” said a young man.
“Shay, this is Harry. He’s kind of the leader of the band.”
Shay finally took in a deep breath and put away her gun. “Fireballs and rocks? I thought you were all magical?”
Harry let out a snort as a ripple of laughter went through the crowd. “We all have weird magic. Kind of works, most of the time. Sometimes, all you need is a well-aimed rock.”
“Old school. I like it.”
“Come on,” said Lily, “we have a way out of here. You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll have to get Peyton to erase the video cameras in the area but shouldn’t be too big a task. He misses you, you know.”
