His eyes lit up. “A favor?”

I nodded. “Once I’m trained. One job that falls under my training, free of charge.”

“Eight hundred and one favor,” he said. “That’s still a deal for you.”

“It is not a deal.” Sarge came up behind me—too late—as I counted out the bills and handed them over. “And you’re a fool to think of it as such.”

The little man huffed and puffed and scurried right up to Sarge’s legs, shoving his barrel chest against the bigger man’s knees. “You are the fool, wolf boy! This one at least knows where to spend her money.”

Sarge snarled and I took a few steps back as they parried words.

“Shrimp.”

“Dog brain.”

I ignored both of them and picked up the book. I flipped open the red leather cover. I was a reader, after all, and the book called to me not just because it was Gran’s. I breathed in the scent of old paper and a hint of perfume. Lavender and sage. It smelled like Gran, and that brought a lump to my throat that I struggled to breathe around.

“Lovely,” I whispered. The first few pages were written in calligraphy, and as I flipped through the book I marveled at the precision and detail within. A thousand pages all done by hand, all done by Gran’s hand.

“Here, you sign this.” A piece of paper was shoved into my hand along with an ink-dipped quill pen.

I ______ do hereby give Oster Boon a single favor to help cover the cost of the book of Celia O’Rylee.

I filled in my name in the blank spot and signed beneath it, impressed that he’d done it up so fast. Then again, it was likely a leprechaun thing. As a part-time law clerk for Himself, I could see there was nothing funny about the paper. It was a simple contract.

He held his hand out, and the paper floated through the air to him, reminding me of that scene in The Little Mermaid where Ariel signed her voice away for legs. “Good deal. I look forward to doing business with you again.” He clenched his fist and the paper disappeared with a burst of sparkles, as if it had burned up. Yup, he was definitely the Ursula here. I could only hope that he wasn’t as bad as the sea witch in my story.

I kept my face blank, even though a slight chill rolled down my back. I mean, the last time I’d signed paperwork, the a-hole had screwed me over. That was different, right?

At least, that’s what I told myself until the bookseller smiled at me, showing off tiny fangs. When did leprechauns gain fangs?

What the hell had I just gotten myself into this time?

8

Sarge was not impressed that I’d bought the big red-leather-bound book off Death Row instead of a weapon, and I wasn’t about to tell him I was having second thoughts after the little display that Oster Boon had put on back there, burning up the paper. And since when did leprechauns have fangs? What was this new kind of garbage? I made a mental note to run it by Eammon, to ask him if he knew the book seller.

To ask what the heck Oster Boon was while I was at it.

“You have less than seven hundred for weapons now! You can’t get nothing with that! The bulk of your money should have been spent on buying protection, not your nighttime reading.” Sarge flipped his hands into the air. “I’m glad I’m not your trainer.”

I shrugged and hugged the book to my chest. I hadn’t said why it was important, or who had written it. That knowledge was for me, and me alone. There was no way the little book seller could have known who I was, or that I was related to the author.

“Well, I’m glad too. You can’t see past the end of your too-long nose to realize weapons aren’t the only thing that can keep you safe,” I said. Sarge frowned and touched his nose. I just shook my head. Pretty, but dumb as far as I could see, no matter how old he may or may not be.

A quick glance showed that Corb and his protégé were off to another of the vendors, rendering the weapons wonder twins finally available. I tucked my books into my new bag, noting that there wasn’t a lot of weight to them, even Gran’s magnum opus, and the thick strap across my shoulder felt light and easy.

I sauntered over to the Viking twins, and they saw me coming. Left elbowed Right and pointed at the bag at my side. “She got hosed. She bought that book from Oster.”

“Sarge, can you hold this for me?” I held the bag out to him, and he took it with a sigh.

“I should take the books back and get your money for you.”

“NO REFUNDS!” yelled Oster Boon from the other end of the stalls. How the hell had he heard us? I did not want to know.

Because my head said vampire leprechaun as if that was a thing. I didn’t think it was, but I’d be asking Eammon.

I shook my head. “Listen, you two,” I put the palms of my hands on the table and leaned forward, “I have four hundred bucks to go toward a weapon of some sort. Whatcha got?”

“You got more than that. Last chick had two thousand and she spent most of it here,” Right said with a grin that showed off several missing teeth and one that was gold-capped.

“I can’t help it if she got hosed.” I smiled right back at him, using his own words against him. “Let’s consider this, shall we? I need a weapon of some sort, and you need to make sure that the Hollows Group stays happy, because without their recruits buying on a regular basis, I’m guessing business might get slim for you.”

They exchanged a quick glance and I realized that Left was actually a woman. Just very hard in her features. And bearded. I didn’t focus on her, though. I suspected she wasn’t running this show by the way she kept bending her head toward her brother.

“Not much for four hundred,” Right said. “Nothing really.”

I shrugged. “Then I’ll find another seller.”

They laughed at me as I walked away, waiting for them to call me back, but they didn’t. Laughter followed me. I gritted my teeth to keep from . . . oh hell, why not?

“Hyenas, the pair of you!” I threw back at them.

They only laughed harder, but I ignored them and walked all the way back to Gerry. She held a package up for me, wrapped in a tight piece of twine, topped with a pair of boots that looked like they would come up to my knees. “Here.” She handed me the bundle.

“Thanks.” The predominant color was dark gray, and I saw flashes of black here and there. The smell of new leather curled up my nose. “This is great.”

She nodded. “It will change with you.”

Sarge grunted, and I looked at her, not understanding. “Excuse me?”

“The leather will mold to you as you change. So, no need for another set. And I stitched the Hollows Group logo into the top, so you have your badge with you always.” She smiled, and her face softened for just a moment. I looked down at the logo of a triangle with a crescent moon inside. That was the Hollows logo?

I held out a hand and she shook it quickly before letting it go. “Thanks.”

“Good luck. You are going to need it. Things are happening here, not good things.”

“Don’t, Gerry,” Sarge said with a growl.

That was interesting. She snapped her mouth shut. “Not my problem if you don’t mind your people dying. But I like her. I’d like her to survive a little longer than the last few. Perhaps we will have tea together some time.”

Sarge strode out ahead of me, heading straight for the stairs, all but tossing my bag back at me. I caught it and slipped my new clothes into it. The bag swallowed them up, holding everything as if it were nothing. I eyed the steep stairs.

I was not doing those again. I glanced at Bob-John and then tried to peek behind him. “Hey, you got a door out?”

“Goes through the candy shop,” he said. I pulled a ten out and he shook his head.

I handed it to him anyway, as I passed by, but he touched my elbow, stopping me.

“Another place to get weapons. A bit on the darker side, but better made. I think you’ve got the guts to go get something. Maybe.” Bob-John held out a card and I took it without slowing much. Then I was through a door, and inside an explosion of color and smells that made my mouth instantly fill with saliva.

The candy shop was all sugar and no spice, and I couldn’t resist buying two large handmade suckers. Purchases in hand, I was out the door in under two minutes. I found Sarge by his bike, glowering until I held out one of the sweets.

He blinked a few times. “Really, you bought it for me?”

I grinned. “They didn’t have any dog biscuits, so I figured this would have to do.”

I thought he’d growl at me.

He laughed and took the sucker and popped it into his mouth, speaking around it. “Smart ass. But we aren’t done here. You have to talk to Annie still.”

Annie? My brain stuttered a minute as I tried to connect the name to a face, and when I remembered, I wanted to groan. Not because of her, but because of where she was. At the top of the freaking stairs.

“The lady who runs the tarot card shop?”

Sarge took my new bag that had all my goodies in it and put it on top of the seat of his bike. I stared at him. “I don’t want to leave my stuff out here.”

“No one will touch it, I promise.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Why, because you have a protective spell on your bike?”

“Exactly.”

Well . . . damn. I didn’t know what to say. That was not really what I’d been expecting.

And just like that, I ended up having to do the stairs again after all.

“Carry me,” I yelled at Sarge as he jogged ahead of me this time. “I bought you sweets!”

I was gasping as I tried to keep up, not because I had to, but because a small part of me wanted to be able to do it effortlessly. I wanted to be that girl.

That woman who could run the guys into the ground.

I mean, I wasn’t, but I wanted it.

His laughter carried back, and I silently cursed him and the long, muscled legs that made this so easy for him. By the time I reached the top, I was huffing again, hating that I’d let myself put on that extra weight, and vowing that I’d do the stairs without puffing next time. No doubt my face was bright red too—curses of the Irish blood and the strawberry blond hair with pale skin. When I was hot, it showed.