Still… maybe she could at least squeeze in a stop at Warehouse Four and find a good book to read. She’d send a quick email while she was thinking of it and at least let them know she was alive. Little did they know that wasn’t a given.
“Good morning, Shay,” Peyton offered with a bright smile. As usual, his fashion sense remained eclectic at best. Today’s outfit included jeans and a T-shirt with a leather vest decorated with a Grateful Dead skull on the back and tall leather military boots laced up the front.
Shay stepped out of the office and leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. “I see you’re figuring out how to get to work on time and still make sure no one is following you. I don’t know if it’s your crazy random street algorithm, but whatever works.”
Peyton grinned. “Glad you approve.”
She gestured toward his clothes. “And…this is an interesting new look. I always pegged you more for an upscale hipster, rather than… Well, whatever the hell this is.”
Peyton scoffed. “You can’t put my style in a box or reduce it to mere labels. I’m a chameleon, and I can blend in anywhere if I want.” A thoughtful look passed over his face. “Maybe that should be my new alias.”
“Chameleon?”
“Yeah.”
Shay rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you focus on getting me a new job instead of worrying about nicknames and aliases?”
“Okay, Aletheia.”
“That’s not the same thing. I use the alias for safety, not to make some sort of statement about my fashion preferences.”
Peyton shrugged. “Just sayin’. You’ve got a cool alias based on the Greek Goddess of Truth, so a new name for me wouldn’t hurt.”
“Call yourself what you want. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna call you that.”
“Fair enough. You didn’t buy that Lily told us her real name, did you? That girl’s way too street smart to offer up a nugget of truth like that. Lily is her alias.”
“I take it you’ve been trying to find a trail online.”
“And there’s nothing. No school records, no social media. She’s a gray ghost. Oooh, that would be a good handle.”
“Let it go. She’ll tell us more when she’s ready. And about the gig…”
Peyton gave her a thumb’s up. “The Chameleon always does a thorough job.”
Shay groaned. “Whatever.” She rubbed the back of her neck and frowned. “There’s some shit you should know about. It doesn’t directly affect you, but it’s gonna affect me.”
“There’s a lot of shit I should know about. Is this about a job?”
The tomb raider shook her head. “Nope, it’s about Brownstone.”
“What about him?”
“I was poking around on some of the old dark web killer forums, that kind of thing.”
Peyton frowned. “Why?”
“To keep an eye out for people who might be trying to kill us.”
He waved a hand. “I’ve got all that stuff automated.”
Shay shook her head. “Algorithms can never replace people.”
Peyton’s eyes widened. “Wait. Are you saying someone’s coming for you? Shit. Or me?”
“Nope, not yet.”
“Then what?”
“They are coming for Brownstone.”
Peyton let out a sigh of relief. “Oh. That’s no big deal.”
“No big deal?”
“Come on, Shay. That guy is like a black hole for trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if some country ends up declaring war on him at the rate he’s going, and he conquers it and renames it ‘Brownstoneland.’”
Shay barked a laugh. “Shit. You’re right, and, yeah, more trouble. The Harriken didn’t get the message from his last slaughter-fest. They’re bringing in help.”
“But they already did with that bounty.”
“Nope, this time they’re putting out enough money to get platinum-grade killers, not random assholes off the street. That means major trouble is probably coming his way.”
Peyton looked her up and down with a curious glint in his eye. “And you’re going to help him?”
“Yeah, probably.” She shrugged. “No big deal. He’s pretty convenient to have around.”
“I don’t get why you don’t want to admit you’re into the guy. If I batted for the other team, I’d be into the guy. He’s a total badass. He’s the emperor of all badasses.”
Peyton withered under Shay’s glare.
“The point is, keep an eye out. I’m guessing this is going to end with me killing a bunch of people.”
“You? Not Brownstone?”
“That too, but he’s a bounty hunter, not a former killer. I think like a hitman, and that’s not all.”
Peyton shook his head and stepped into the office to sit at the desk, tossing one of Lily’s new t-shirts toward a pile of her clothes. “Is there some other international criminal gang sending guys after him?”
“Not yet, but that’s not the thing I’m worried about.”
“What then?”
Shay hesitated, caught in a rare moment of self-doubt about whether she should be discussing Brownstone’s background with Peyton.
“I had a chat with James,” she continued after a moment. “Look, the thing is, the guy’s too badass not to be magical, and he’s got some sort of artifact that makes him even more badass.”
“So? That’s not a big deal. You’ve got artifacts too.” Peyton rolled his eyes. “Even though you hide them all from me in Warehouse Five.”
Shay smirked. “We all have our secrets. Except for you, of course.”
“Even from the guy who regularly helps save your life? I would if I could figure out how to keep them.”
“Especially from the guy who helps save my life.” She uncrossed her arms. “And it’s not just about artifacts. He’s kind of strange looking, and he doesn’t even remember where he’s from. He just remembers being in the jungle somewhere else and then suddenly in Los Angeles.”
Peyton’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“It sounds to me like he gated from some jungle on Oriceran to Earth when he was a little kid.”
“Brownstone’s Oriceran? But he would have been over here before all that came out.”
Shay shrugged. “So? Oricerans were over here before we knew about them. Lily’s ancestors, for one. All over the place doing all sorts of shit—mowing their lawns, bowling, working at Wendy’s. Whatever.”
“Bowling?” Peyton gave her a skeptical
