A tech nerd like Peyton would have questioned why Shay maintained such a laughably old-fashioned library in an age of ebooks and the internet. The answer was simple.
Shay preferred the heft of a book in her hands and a physical book wasn’t something that could be hacked or disrupted with an EMP. They didn’t leave a trail of what she was studying, either. As a hired killer, she’d succeeded on more than a few assignments because some idiot was relying on some enhanced gun with too many electronics.
It wasn’t that Shay didn’t mind the use of technology, magic, or whatever tool would help her the get the job done. Simplicity wasn’t her focus, success was. But, when it came to owning knowledge, she made sure no EMP or lightning spell could wipe everything out.
Some of the books were so rare that she owned the last existing copy. Many had never been digitized.
Her finger stopped on a slim monograph detailing a Polish graduate student’s thesis on the magical beliefs of the aristocracy in ancient Japan. It was written over a hundred years ago and was the only copy.
But anyone looking into the past couldn’t be sure if they were reading about someone’s misinterpretation of nature or an actual eyewitness report of something magical.
Shay’s glance ticked up a few rows to the translated, Annals of the Joseon Dynasty, records from medieval Korea. Most of the records concerned the most banal of government functions, but there were hints of more mysterious events and potential contact with magic or Oriceran beings, including a report from September 1609 that spoke of a strange flying “washbasin” that made a thunderous sound despite appearing in cloudless skies and flying as “swiftly as an arrow” before “disappearing into sparks.”
Before everyone learned about Oriceran, many people thought the incident was proof of aliens from beyond the stars visiting ancient Korea. That might still turn out to be true, too. Shay had learned to stop guessing at what came next a long time ago.
How often can some asshole from Oriceran come over here to troll the local humans?
Shay let out a relaxed sigh and smiled warmly at the collection in front of her. Even before the hitman decided to become a tomb raider, she’d had an interest in history and had started collecting the books through rare dealers, even if she didn’t always take the time to read many of them. I’ll have the time in the future. If there is one.
Almost got my ass iced in my own house. Nice.
Maybe in another life Shay would have become a history professor instead of a killer. She amused herself with the thought far too often.
I like history, but I can’t change the past. Can only change the future.
Shay glanced to a side door with a black steel frame and glass inserts, connected to the main room of Warehouse Four. Although she kept the humidity and temperature in the main warehouse constant, the other room was for some of her centuries-old books that needed an even more controlled environment, including air filters to ensure a nearly dust-free room.
The tomb raider’s rare book library was superior to what was in many universities. Good thing no one but her knew of its existence.
I’ve got the skills. I’ve got the instincts. I’ve got the books and the resources. So why can’t I get this business going the way I want?
Shay let out a long sigh. “Maybe I should listen to Peyton’s ideas after all. If they are crap, I’ll just ignore him and threaten to kill him until he shuts up.”
Shay collapsed to her knees, sweat soaking her body. Her shorts and tank top stuck to her body.
She looked back at the tall wall marking the end of her obstacle course. Her heart thundered, and she couldn’t even move for a moment as she took in deep gulps of air in a desperate attempt to pull some precious oxygen into her strained lungs.
Shay had lost count of how many times she’d shoved herself through her Warehouse One obstacle course that evening, but her aching muscles made it clear she had pushed well past her normal limits.
“I need… to do… this shit… more often.”
In a world where magic was real, being the best human wasn’t always enough anymore. Every small advantage could mean the difference between life and death, or worse.
Her body might be screaming at her, but the cleansing pain pushed all the lingering doubts from her mind, and she let out a quiet laugh.
Shay saved Peyton for a reason. He was doing her no good locked up in the warehouse waiting around for her to figure out a use for him. She could pretend to be the experienced tomb raider all she wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that she needed advice and help. If he could provide it, even if just a different perspective, then she would be an idiot not to take advantage of that.
Only problem was, she was rusty at taking advice… from anyone.
Shay took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Okay, I can do this shit. If I can kill a room full of men or dive into some dangerous lake looking for magic Nazi shit, I can ask for help. No big deal. No big deal at all. It’s just Peyton.”
She almost believed that.
Chapter Ten
“Okay, hot shot,” Shay said the next day as she hopped out of her car, ready for the morning. “You get your chance.” She was taking large steps across the warehouse floor, her heels clicking on the hard cement, excited to get started.
Peyton stuck his head out of the office door. “What? Huh?” He was holding a grande cappuccino in his hand and some of the froth was still on his upper lip.
“You’ve mentioned several times you have some better way to improve my business model or some shit.” Shay shrugged. “Not saying I believe you do, but nothing wrong
