They exchanged shots back and forth, the metal and stone pillars protecting the now more cautious men and the always cautious tomb raider.
The roar of the oncoming express train brought a grin to Shay’s face. She dropped her gun for a moment and grabbed her last few surprises in her handbag and tossed them toward the men.
A loud bang echoed as her flashbang went off. Several people screamed or groaned. She followed up with two smoke grenades a moment later and ran not for the train, but for a door farther into the station.
Shay ripped off her wig and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. She arrived at a utility access door. An electronic lock denied her entry, but she swiped a small, thin black card, a universal decoder, and it clicked open. The MTA didn’t exactly have military-grade locks.
Shay slipped into the door, ignoring the shouts, screams, and thick smoke wafting around the subway station.
She ran down a narrow hallway and hit a stairwell before pulling out her phone. Once she hit underground, she’d lost communication with Peyton. Ironically, she could just call him thanks to the subway cell stations, but then her phone activity would be geolocated for the police. She needed to leave as few traces as she could.
There was no need to worry. She and Peyton had planned for this eventuality.
“Let’s just hope your map is accurate.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A half-hour later, Shay emerged onto the streets of New York, a briefcase in hand, but missing her wig, contacts, and jacket. There was nothing to link her to the earlier attack. By now, the police and local underworld were probably setting up an ambush for the express train and would be very disappointed, if they weren’t already.
“Can you hear me, Peyton?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. Real sorry.”
“Huh? About what? I got the briefcase, and no one followed me. This is a win.”
He sighed. “Yeah, but ten guys we hadn’t planned on showed up. That was close, way too close. They could have killed you.”
Shay chuckled. “That wasn’t even the closest call I’ve had in the last few weeks, and at least none of those guys threatened to eat me.”
A few days later, Shay grinned at Tubal-Cain as she set the open case containing the gray bars of adamantine on the table in his back room.
The gnome looked her up and down for a moment, his scowl giving way to something approaching a smile. “Impressive and unexpected.”
“A deal’s a deal, right? You can make the knives?” Shay shrugged. “The other ones you loaned me disappeared.”
“Like I said, I wanted to motivate you.” The gnome ran a finger along one of the gray bars, an almost hungry gleam in his eyes. “Yes, I can make your knives. They will be well-balanced, almost impossible to break through normal means. They will stay sharp without needing your help and they will be light-weight. But, as I said before, they will cut only what you expect them to cut.”
“Fine by me. I’m looking for some reliable knives, nothing more, nothing less.”
The gnome harrumphed. “You’re short-sighted, like many of your kind, but I still grant you my respect for accomplishing something I thought would be more difficult, Miss Carson.”
Tubal-Cain’s use of an actual respectful address instead of some vague insult wasn’t lost on Shay.
She grinned. “That’s kind of my thing. I’ve had a good run as of late, let’s just say.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. In the future, I might even consider retaining your services for my own needs. For now, though, I’m content to make your knives and offer you your bonus.”
Shay nodded. She’d almost forgotten about the offer.
“Mass death has a way of screaming to anyone who knows how to listen,” Tubal-Cain said.
Shay’s face tightened. “Lots of people die in L.A. everyday.”
“Yes, but ancient and powerful magic isn’t associated with it.”
Shit. Does he know about Nicole? Was it some sort of major magic flare to all the big players?
“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The gnome snorted. “Go ahead and feign ignorance. It’s close enough to your natural state, anyway. I think you and your friend have no idea of the power of Oriceran magic.”
Shay licked her dry lips. “I’ve seen the aftermath. Trust me, I don’t doubt the power of Oriceran magic.”
Tubal-Cain stared at her, his head tilted. “Let me provide you with some helpful information. The Grayson PMC Services company knows they sent many men to kill a single man, and they all died in a horrible way that screams of magic.”
She said nothing. The gnome had better things to do than sell her out to other humans. She assumed he was going somewhere with this.
“This is your bonus, Miss Carson. Information. Grayson doesn’t know it was a Drow, you see. They have a more practical target, something they understand, a human who might be using magical artifacts.”
Shay swallowed at the mention of Nicole’s race.
The gnome shrugged. “They think it was the bounty hunter. They’ve started looking around for ways to increase their power against magic and are talking to some dangerous sorts of people. Very dangerous. I can’t say when they’ll come for James Brownstone, but when they do, they’ll bring powerful magic with them.”
She stood. “Thanks for the tidbit.”
Now I’m wrapped up with the Harriken and Grayson because Brownstone is. I should be more pissed, but I’m not.
Tubal-Cain eyed her for a moment in silence. “Any more questions?”
“When should I come for the knives?”
“I’ll contact you. I have my ways.”
“I guess I should get going. I’m sure you have things to do.”
“Of course,” the gnome replied. “See you around, Miss Carson.”
“Peyton?” Shay called as she stepped into Warehouse Two. There was no response.
Her phone chimed, and she checked her messages.
Hey, if my facial recognition system is working right, this text should arrive just as you step
