“Really?” The question came out sounding more filled with curiosity than fear. Shay assumed the dead men just weren’t good at what they did.
“Yes, I half-wonder if the mine or gold aren’t cursed somehow.” Greg’s face pinched in displeasure. “With those… Oricerans influencing our world, who knows what sort of strange magic might be mixed in to all of it? Maybe the mine was cursed from the beginning.”
“And that’s why you’re looking for a tomb raider rather than a normal treasure hunter?”
“That indeed, Shay.” Greg leaned forward, intensity in his eyes. “I’m willing to put down twenty-five thousand, upfront.”
Shay resisted a snort, but she didn’t resist a comment. “That’s not a lot of money to me, to be honest.”
Greg gave a small nod, letting out a sigh. “I can imagine, given your profession. If you can find the gold or the mine, I’m willing to pay you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars more. I’m sure that would be adequate compensation.”
Shay grinned. “That’s more in line with my usual fee, Greg.”
His gaze momentarily roamed away from her face, and she resisted a frown. “See something you like?”
Greg pressed his lips together and looked away. “I’m only interested in the money, even if you do have a smoking hot body. You’re a bit young for me.”
“Now that’s a new one. You’ll find I don’t mix business with much of anything else.”
“Good to hear. I’m only interested in your tomb raiding skills and I need this to work.”
“Okay then, mine or gold, you said? How much gold to trigger a payout?”
“Even four bars would be worth more than enough to make this worthwhile. Today’s rates would mean two million dollars. If you recover more, I’m sure we could negotiate some sort of bonus.”
“Okay. How about 250,000 plus five percent of the value of any recovered gold? If I find the actual mine, I don’t want a percentage. I’m not greedy, but I do want a million dollars in that case.”
Greg’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
Shay gently scratched her forehead with a well-manicured nail. The key to any negotiation was knowing just when to push and when to pull back. All her instincts told her to push hard.
“I just found a pile of diamonds lost for almost one hundred years on my last job. If you want some loser budget treasure hunter who will waste your time by dying on the job, then go ahead and hire one. I’m sure they’ll do just as well as last time. But if you want a field archaeologist with actual experience dealing with magical artifacts and threats, then don’t cheap out on me.”
Shay locked gazes with Greg and he returned the look, evaluating his options.
The man let out a long sigh as his forehead wrinkled. “A twenty-five thousand retainer?”
“Correct. That will act as your proof that you’re serious about this before I waste any of my time.”
“I… am willing to pay, but I must admit, I’m not all that comfortable with this.”
Shay shrugged. “You have to spend money to make money. You, of all people, should understand that.”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it then?”
Greg frowned. “It’s like I told you. There may be a curse involved. Danger. And… well, you’re a young woman.”
Shay snorted. “Trust me. Compared to a lot of what I’ve done, your little penny ante curse barely qualifies as danger. Spare me your chivalry.”
“You’re sure, then?”
Shay picked her fork back up to shovel down some more grits. “Trust me, as long as your gold’s not under a lake, I’m not worried.”
Chapter Eleven
Shay rubbed her forehead as Peyton paced back and forth in front of her in Warehouse Two. She was sitting in the new office chair she’d bought Peyton, waiting for him to calm down.
A mixture of annoyance and confusion risked giving her a headache. If she got one, she was going to pop the Tech-God in the head so he would have one, too.
“It was your fucking idea,” she said. “Why are you freaking out about it now?”
“Yeah, I know, I know, and I’ve been talking about trying to help you, but I’m not as sure now. The more I’ve looked into the legend, the more I think you were right to begin with. It’s just all rumors and legends. It’s a waste of your time.” Peyton shrugged.
“So what? I can afford to waste my time. Abbot’s giving me 25 K upfront. That’ll take the sting from me spending time on this over the next few weeks. If it turns out to be nothing, then it’s just a lot of money he paid me to do research.”
“I think it’s a lost cause, Shay. And I’m worried that failing will leave a bad mark for you under your new alias. Then I’ll have fucked you over. Maybe I was wrong about all of this. I…”
Shay rolled her eyes. This was the problem with people who played at independence but grew up wanting for nothing. Peyton wanted assurances and no risk. She didn’t live in that kind of world. Never had. And now neither did he, and it was time he accepted that.
“Calm down, Man-Puppy,” she said, “before you wet yourself.”
Peyton stopped pacing. “Man-Puppy now?”
“Would you prefer Man-Boy?”
“Huh. I think I’d like a third option. Tech Genius…”
“Not today. Earn it.” Shay gave him a dead serious glare. “Look, I’m the one who decides on what jobs I’m gonna take in the end. Non-negotiable. If this gold hunt ends up being a big fucking waste of time, that’s on me, not you. Adjust your panties so they aren’t in a bunch already.”
Peyton sighed, putting his face in his hands for a moment. “You’re doing the deal either way.”
“Yeah. You know why?”
“What?”
Shay ran a hand over her stomach. “I’ve got a good feeling in my gut.”
Peyton groaned. “The last time you said that you were almost buried alive underwater.”
“Almost dead counts in my world. It means
