Shay arrived at the top of the salmon ladder and leapt from the bar to her unstable metal balance beam. The impact of her landing stretched the bungee cords holding it up, and it swung back and forth.
No big deal. The money’s been transferred, and I’ll be living in that brownstone soon enough.
An image flashed in her mind, not of the two-story property, but of the muscled bounty hunter. Her foot slipped, and she fell.
Shay caught the beam with her hand and took a deep breath before letting herself fall to the ground in a controlled manner.
What the fuck?
It’d been a long time since she’d had an accident on her obstacle course, so long that she didn’t bother with much in the way of mats or other safety precautions. Training when you knew you had a second chance ended up training you to be sloppy. Real risk promoted real skills.
Why the hell did I suddenly think of him? That’s not like me. Just because of the name?
Shay jogged back toward the climbing wall marking the start of her course. Brownstone the man wasn’t important, and she didn’t want him to set up shop in her head.
True, he was the first man she’d found intriguing in a long while, but that was because he acted like he didn’t care, and she was more than comfortable explaining that away as the man being gay.
Unless my gaydar is broken… Is that all I need? A local non-sassy gay friend who can kill three Warlocks like he does it every day?
Hell, for all Shay knew, Brownstone did just that.
Being a solo killer before provided a certain elegant simplicity to her entire existence.
Friends, lovers, neighbors. All were distractions. That’s what she’d believed for most of her life. Opening herself to another seemed like a fatal mistake. The only person anyone could rely on was themselves.
And what did thinking like that get me? Killing a friend in my kitchen.
Shay shook her head and grabbed a handhold on the climbing wall, a dark chuckle escaping her mouth. Starting over…
Life was just like the obstacle course. She could never accomplish anything real emotionally if she never risked injury.
“Two unannounced visits in one day,” Peyton said as Shay emerged from her car into Warehouse Two. “I’m honored.”
Shay shrugged. “It is my building. It wasn’t always your house… or apartment or whatever you want to call it.”
“Sure, sure. Please tell me you didn’t come to check my work personally. I know what I’m doing. You have to know that by now.”
“Your work? You mean looking into my utilities transfer? Nah. I’m confident enough in Purity, and I know that kind of thing is kindergarten shit for you. Is that what you want to hear?”
Peyton shrugged. “It is nice to hear in between the snark and threats.”
Shay marched into the cubicle maze and what amounted to Peyton’s living room and slipped into a chair. “This is about something else entirely.”
“Kill someone else on your way here? Let me guess. You had no choice?”
Shay laughed. “Not that I’m aware of. I was thinking earlier, and I figured it was about time I started taking advantage of some of your special skills.”
Peyton dropped into an open lounge chair. “I’m flattered, but aren’t you already doing that? Isn’t that the whole reason you saved my life, rather than my stunning fashion sense?”
“I come to work just to see what you’re wearing. It’s not your computer skills, your magical research skills, and not just for tomb raid shit. For equipment.”
The man’s face brightened. “Oh?”
“Yeah. During my little disagreement with the cartel, my favorite knife snapped.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Well, it got me thinking. Why does a knife have to break?”
Peyton extended the footrest on his chair, and put his legs up “Because everything breaks eventually?”
“Not everything. We’re just used to it as a human civilization, but there are plenty of legends about unbreakable weapons out there, which means there must be magic that can accomplish it.”
“Okay, I’m following you. I think. You want an unbreakable knife?”
“Yeah, a few knives that are always sharp, light-weight, and don’t break. If I’m gonna be playing with other people who are using magic, I need to start using it to my advantage, but in ways that I can easily control as a normal person.” Shay shrugged. “I’m not asking for Excalibur or the ability to cut through steel or anything. Just knives I can stab a cartel guy in the throat with and not worry about them breaking.”
“Normal business meeting. I can hang with this.”
Shay threw a pillow at his head as Peyton easily ducked. “This is our normal.”
Peyton nodded slowly, his brows knitted together. “You’re in luck. I think I know a guy.”
Shay jerked forward. “You know a guy who can make unbreakable knives?”
“Well, I know of a guy. Guy’s not the right word. I know a Gnome. Not sure if they like being called guys or not.”
“Where did you find this guy, Gnome, whatever? Did you find him on Yelp?”
Peyton looked away. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? Care to clarify that. This is only my life on the line.”
“It’s not like I literally went to Yelp, but even on the dark web there are ratings if you know where to look. And I basically found some pieces of information on dark magic on the dark web.”
Shay peered at Peyton with suspicion. “And you just happened to already know what I was looking for before I knew it? You’re a psychic and a hacker now?”
“I’ve become good at reading you. It’s a gift.” Peyton hooked his fingers in his belt and grinned. “Something like that. I’ve already been researching this sort of thing because I thought it’d come up sooner than later. This guy comes highly rated and should be perfect for what you’re asking. I want to prove my skills as much as you want to use them, you know.”
Shay was impressed and dismayed at Peyton’s ability to predict what she’d
