“You know, I’m glad you’re here, actually. I would have been sad if you hadn’t shown up.”
“Oh? You made your personal feelings clear already.” He frowned. “If you’re going to offer some feeble professional alliance, don’t bother. I don’t need the help of a rookie, Aletheia. I haven’t killed you out of professional courtesy, but don’t assume my charity is infinite.”
Shay shook her head and leaned forward, her voice dropping as she spoke. “Listen to you…so full of yourself. No, I didn’t come here to ask for an alliance, and I’m glad you’re here because it confirms the artifact is some alien shit and not just a neat little golden toy. It makes a lot of what I’ve gone through worth it. Well, the million dollars will, too.”
Durand’s smile faltered for a second. “Leave Quito now. If you go after the artifact, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Shay flipped him off. “Guess what, asshole? I already got it. You were too damned slow.”
His mouth twitched. “You think you can fool me with such obvious lies?”
The tomb raider lifted her bright orange purse and set it on the table. She pulled it open, revealing the Bomber comfortably stowed in a vacuum-sealed bag.
Durand snorted. “Your arrogance is impressive. You really think I won’t kill you and take this?”
“You’re gonna kill me in public?”
“Most people are weak. They’ll scatter the minute I go for my gun.”
“And you don’t think I’ll go for mine?”
“I’ve already proven that you can’t surprise me in DC, and now here.”
Oh, this is gonna be good.
“Really?” Shay nodded to one side and then the other. Two pairs of large men in jeans and T-shirts sat a few tables down, their hands and guns hidden underneath the table. They frowned at Durand.
“Guess you were wrong about the quality of our local creepers,” Shay suggested. “Yeah, sometimes it’s good to work alone, but sometimes it’s good to hire a little local help. The kind of guys who really know the streets, you know?” She closed the purse and pulled it over her shoulder. “Here’s how this is gonna go, Durand. I’m gonna get up and walk away. If you try to do anything, the nice gentlemen I paid a large sum of money to for protection will shoot you, or at a minimum, distract you long enough that I can shoot you. I might end up dead, but there’s no way this doesn’t end with you dead if you try something. Mutually-assured destruction, asshole.”
Durand sneered. “Why bother with this farce? Why didn’t you pay them to kill me in my room?”
“You’re too good to get taken out by local thugs if you’re on your game. I knew this would only work if I gave you something shiny to focus on.” Shay pointed to her chest. “Like me.” She scooted her chair back and stood. “It’s been fun, Durand, but I’ve got an artifact to deliver to a client.” Her smile vanished. “Who’s the fucking rookie now, douchebag?”
Shay waved and stepped away from the table.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Two days later, Shay hummed as she reclined on a love seat in her living room. The delivery had gone smoothly, and she’d made sure to take pictures from various angles.
Look at me, humming? Satisfied and happy. Definitely gonna make James take me to a nice Italian place soon. Have a real date.
The tomb raider was now a million dollars richer and had gotten a nice boost to her reputation. She might not be willing to admit it to Peyton, but he’d been right. The job had soothed her ego after Russia, and her only regret was that she hadn’t taken a picture of the look on Durand’s face when he realized she’d outsmarted him.
So, what to do with some of my time off?
A little routine might not be bad. Going out running with Free-to-Move, maybe weekly dancing nights with the girls between tomb raids.
A life. When Shay had burned down her house she’d been running from what she thought was a life, but it had been an empty shell, devoid of real relationships or connections. That was why it’d been so easy to fake her death and walk away without ever looking back.
Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it, expecting Peyton or James. The text was from neither man.
NOT UNDERWOOD: I need to speak to you about a matter of mutual interest. I need you to come to me, but I won’t make you run all the way to DC.
Time and address followed in a separate text.
“What the fuck? That’s in an hour.”
Shay groaned and scrubbed a hand over her face. Correk might be the Fixer, but he wasn’t her boss. She didn’t like the idea of jumping whenever he snapped his fingers.
“Shit,” she murmured. “If he’s contacting me, it’s not gonna be for a friendly chat.”
Shay rose from the couch and grumbled.
“This is why I shouldn’t even bother trying to establish a routine.”
Shay pulled her Spider into an open parking spot on the street. This was the right address, but she didn’t see Correk. Several small restaurants and bars lined the street, and chatting people walked the sidewalks.
“Which damned building is it?”
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and clicked on her text messages to review Correk’s. There’d been a date, time, and address when the message was sent, but it’d disappeared. Apparently, in Correk’s Fixer library, there was a spell to make any text chat appear in an updated version of Snapchat.
“Cute, Correk.” She texted him.
I’m here. Where am I supposed to go?
Keep looking and you’ll find it.
“Thanks for the cryptic comment.” She gritted her teeth. “Elves.”
Shay stepped out of her car and looked around for anything obvious. She spotted an elf walking by himself. While not the only elf in the streams of pedestrians, he was the only one not dressed for a night on the town.
He turned a corner
