“Nah, I know you have what it takes.” Brownstone shrugged.
Shay blinked several times before her face twisted up in confusion. It sounded like a compliment, but it also implied he knew more about her than felt comfortable. They were about to go on a tomb raid that could involve them running into blood Warlocks. She didn’t trust him implicitly, and she didn’t get why he seemingly did.
“You know I have what it takes, Brownstone?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said, last time I checked.”
Shay almost snorted at a thought. Brownstone hadn’t commented on her appearance earlier because he thought he could earn her favor a different way.
The corner of Shay’s mouth turned up. “And why are you so sure? You quick to trust, Brownstone? I would have thought a bounty hunter would be more cynical.”
Father O’Banion let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t say anything.
“Oh, I’m cynical as any other idiot out there, but Father O’Banion wouldn’t have recommended you if you weren’t. I trust his judgment. I’ve worked with him a lot and he’s never steered me wrong, which is more than I can say for a lot of people I’ve worked with.”
Shay watched the man for a second, looking for any sign of deception on his face. His explanation again made sense, even if it disappointed her on a personal level.
Father O’Banion exhaled loudly. “Aye, lad, but all this work talk is boring.”
Shay sneaked a glance his way, wondering if Smite-Williams was trying to cover for Brownstone somehow. She didn’t say anything. Despite her distrust of the partner being forced on her, she didn’t want to give him too much of a reason to probe her background.
“What do you want to talk about, then?” Brownstone asked.
Father O’Banion tapped the side of his glass. “Let’s sit here and get drunk and tell lies. Or is that tell lies until we’re drunk? Either would be fine. Both are much more fun than talking about who’s a cynical fuck.”
Brownstone grinned. “Can’t disagree with that.”
Shay scoffed. “Takes all kinds.”
“That it does, but he’s a lot like you.”
Shay eyed the bounty hunter. “Not complaining too much. He’s getting me this job, but what do you mean?”
“His appearance is deceiving.”
It was like Brownstone was fucking with her on purpose, acting like he didn’t have a clue one moment, and then the next talking as if he could see through her all the way to her soul. She didn’t know whether to respect him or tell him to shut the hell up.
Father O’Banion nodded gravely, a ridiculously serious look now fixed on his face.
Shay’s eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips. “Oh, and you think you know me well enough to say that my appearance is deceiving, Brownstone?”
The waitress returned with another draught for Father O’Banion.
“You’re doing the Lord’s work, miss,” O’Banion offered as the waitress departed.
The men didn’t press the conversation, more interested in the beer, and Shay was more than happy to let the discussion dry up.
The more she thought about what Brownstone had said, the more it kindled a fire inside. Her old instincts kicked in. She thought over every comment the bounty hunter made since starting the conversation, becoming more convinced with each second the man was trying to make some point about her background and career choices.
Shay took a few more sips of her drink. “Look, I know what I’m doing by freelancing with my archaeology skills.”
Is he judging me? He’s a bounty hunter, not some priest. He needs to get over himself.
Brownstone waved a hand in front of him. “Never said you didn’t.”
“We all need to make our money somehow, and there’s a lot of good money in artifacts. Better I make some money and steer them into someone like Smite-Williams’ hands.”
“Again, not disagreeing,” he replied.
“She’s skilled, lad.” Father O’Banion’s face was becoming flushed and puffy. “Very skilled. More skilled than a lot of people with twice her experience. Kind of like you that way.”
Shay nodded. “I’m fucking Lara Croft, just without all the money. I’m doing this shit backward. Not all that interested in talking about my past, though, just in case you’re the curious and nosey sort, Brownstone.”
Brownstone set his glass down and nodded, no hint of defiance on his face. “I can be a curious and nosey sort, but I know when to leave well enough alone.”
He had to go and make a comment like that.
The man will be a problem. Shay knew it. The Professor might trust him, but that didn’t mean she would, not until he gave her a reason. Trust no one and verify.
Father O’Banion snorted. “Some people and organizations may disagree.”
“Yeah, what can I say?” Brownstone said. “Results may vary. And I don’t give a shit about Shay’s past.”
Shay gave a curt nod, glad that he was letting the matter drop for the moment, but she’d need to be careful. She sensed something in Brownstone that she recognized in herself. The hunting instinct.
Father O’Banion stood. “I’ll be right back. Need to make more room.” Whistling, he got up and wandered toward the men’s bathroom.
“The past is shit,” Brownstone said after thirty seconds of silence.
At least the people who took you in gave a shit, Brownstone. You don’t have any idea of what it was like to grow up like I did. To start killing as young as I did.
Shay snickered. “The past is shit?”
No openings. That’s what she needed to remember. She couldn’t let the man gain any real insight into her past. It’d be a weapon he could wield against her.
“Yeah.” Brownstone stared down into his glass. “That’s what the last twenty years have taught everybody, I figure. If they haven’t learned that lesson, they are dumbasses.”
There was one thing she was curious about. Brownstone wasn’t the meathead she thought he was, but that didn’t mean he gave a shit about anything. A few probes in that direction wouldn’t hurt.
Shay nodded slowly. “I get it. I mean, we all grew up reading about history and science, and what
