Midlife Bounty Hunter Page 25

The door slammed shut behind him. Feish let out a sigh of relief. “Come, I take you on my boat.”

“Wait, you have a boat?”

She tugged me along toward the door, guiding me out, and I let her. Because I had my tea in one hand, and I wasn’t letting it go for anything. “You know, this is the first time my body hasn’t hurt in like a week?”

“Training is hard on older ones.” Feish linked her arm with mine and let out a heavy sigh. “Especially us women.”

“Yes, right?” I squeezed her arm. “I like you, Feish. Maybe we can be friends.”

She startled. “I have no friends.”

Maybe it was the kava kava running through my veins, but I was feeling all soft and squishy, “That’s not good. I don’t have friends either.”

“Friend,” Robert said from behind us. I waved a hand in his direction.

“I’ll amend that to girlfriends. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Feish looked sideways at me. “I’m ugly to humans.”

I shrugged. “I’m overweight and apparently past my prime. So, they don’t much credit me either.”

“You are pretty to humans,” Feish said.

I frowned. “No, I don’t think so. Especially not to the men. I speak my mind. They say they want that, but that’s not really true. That negates any amount of straight teeth or green eyes.” I pointed at my own eyes and jabbed myself. “Ouch.” Note to self, don’t poke yourself in the eye. Yes, the kava kava was definitely kicking in high gear.

She sighed. “Men are strange. Men of the river or men on the land.”

I lifted my teacup and downed the last of it. From there on out, things got rather blurry. Feish loaded me into a boat (I think), and then we drove down the river at high speed while I sang “Row, row, row your boat” (I think), and then we glided down a small tributary where the trees hung low over the water’s edge where the Spanish moss was almost within reach.

“Stay in the boat,” Feish snapped, grabbing my belt and yanking me back into the seat. “You want to fall in with the alligators?”

I blinked a couple times and a splash of water to the face snapped me out of the worst of it. “Was I singing?”

“Yes. And talking about the boss’s ass.” Feish grimaced. “Please don’t do that. I don’t like seeing it on display.”

The kava kava must still have been in play because my mouth opened, and a question popped out. “Are you two a couple? You and Crash doing it?” Yup, definitely the kava kava working overtime. Who said “doing it” anymore?

The boat motor slowed as her hand eased off the throttle. Her lips twisted into what I suppose would make for a fish grimace. “Me and Boss? Gods of the sea, no! He’s very ugly to me, and I don’t like his temper. Too mercurial.”

“But you’re all protective of him,” I pointed out. “I thought it was because I was a woman in your territory?” Damn, I was getting bad at reading people apparently.

Feish docked the boat against a log, stepped out and held it steady. “Here is your drop-off point. Follow this trail. But watch for booby traps.”

“No, you tell me, why didn’t you like me?” I kept my butt in the boat. “Poison, remember?”

She sighed. “Many women come to Boss. Many want to hump him because he is handsome, but more seek him out so they can use him. He has many talents. You obviously don’t want to hump him. You didn’t even fix your hair.”

I put a hand to my hair, feeling the ponytail and every strand that had been pulled out of it in my match with the demon. My jaw dropped. “I killed a demon, didn’t I?”

Feish smiled, which was frankly a horrible look, like she was a fish struggling to breathe on land. “You did. My friend killed a demon. And you make the boss a little bit crazy. That’s good. Keeps him from getting overconfident.”

And then she blushed, which was a strange shade of orange on her yellowish-green skin.

I grinned back and pointed at her while I tried to wink. Maybe the kava kava hadn’t worn off as much as I had thought. “Hey, I am your friend.” I wobbled across the boat and she held out her hand. I took it and then I was on solid ground. Or kind of solid ground as my feet sunk into the shoreline.

Feish got back in the boat, paused, and then held out her hand to me. I reached back, my boots sinking deeper in the water and muck, well over my ankles. She turned my hand palm up and placed in it a small, smooth blue stone. “When you need me to come get you, put this in water. I find you.”

She gave me her version of a smile and I grinned back. “You got it. And you know, Feish, it goes both ways. If you need help, or just want to complain about your job, you can talk to me.”

For just a moment, I thought she was going to cry. Her big yellow-green eyes seemed to wobble full of liquid, but she blinked it away. “I go now. Be safe, new friend.”

She backed up the boat and I waved as she pulled away, disappearing down the river on the first bend. I turned and sloshed my way out of the sloppy water and muck and onto a well-worn path that was likely maintained by the city. The nature reserve was a popular tourist destination with lots of walking paths.

I wondered why the big guy was out here. At the gates of the cemetery, where we’d first met, he hadn’t seemed like the kind to live in the bush. He’d had on very nice shoes, far too clean for tromping around in the muck, those tailored pants, a clean dress shirt, and a bow tie, for goodness’ sake. I’d taken him for a lawyer, or maybe a doctor, or a professor. I looked down at my very nice new boots and grimaced at the layer of thick mud on them. They were going to need a solid cleaning after this.

The path was quiet as I walked, a few birds, nothing more than the usual animal noises. At the end of the path, I took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching me, then stepped to the left, as had been indicated in my instructions from Eammon.

Left was a shadowy bush trail that was barely visible from the main path, even though it was nearly noon. I pushed the bushes out of the way, knocked aside a few long strands of Spanish moss, and kept on the little bit of path I could see.

A guess, but I’d have laid money this was the way to Eric’s house.

From the corner of my eye, Robert suddenly appeared. Maybe he’d been there the whole time? I didn’t think so.

“How are you doing that?” I asked.

“Friend,” he muttered, swaying as he walked. I sighed.

“I doubt I’ll get any clear answers out of you, huh?”

Just as I thought, there was no answer to that either.

After an hour of pushing through the bush on a trail that was barely there, the path became more obvious, clearly laid out as a route and not just a bush trail. A few rocks lined the sides of it here and there, and I caught a whiff of wood smoke. Really? Who would have a stove on this time of year? The heat was already climbing into the eighties most days.

“Must be getting close.”

That’s what I said, and then a snap of a twig behind me stopped me in my tracks. That and the point of what felt like a gun in my lower back.

Slowly, I put my hands up. “Don’t shoot.”

“I can’t guarantee that.”

16

A growling voice rumbled behind me, competing with the normal sounds of the marshy forest around us, the sound not all that different than Sarge’s when he was in his wolf form. The gun pressed into my back dug in a little harder and a bead of sweat rolled down my neck. “Who are you?”

“I’m Breena. Are you Eric?” I asked. “I met you a couple weeks ago at the Hollows Graveyard?” I didn’t move. It didn’t sound like Eric, and I had a hard time imagining the lanky fellow with a gun in his hand, never mind using it on someone.

But if he was as paranoid as Eammon thought, it wouldn’t take more than an itchy trigger finger for him to end up blowing a hole in me.

Maybe not the worst way to go, but I didn’t plan on dying just yet. Of course, that was assuming this was indeed Eric.

“I am not. But I am with the Hollows. Joe.” The gun left my back and I looked over my shoulder. The man was the beefier of the two observers I’d seen on my first night, the night of the interview. “They sent you out here to take over?” He frowned.

I frowned right back. “I’m here to look after Eric, yes.”

Joe’s face broke into a grin. “Ah, Eric. Gotcha. Sorry, I thought you were here to . . . never mind. I recognize you now.” He tipped his chin in the direction I’d already been heading. “His place is out there, not far. Have fun.”

I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I didn’t like him. I didn’t like the fact that he was out here, either. I mean, sure, his explanation—such as it was—made sense, and I had no reason to doubt him, and yet, there it was.

“Thanks. I think.” I took a step back, turned and continued on down the path. He’d been doing his job, stopping me and making sure I was no danger. Still, I didn’t like him. I paused. “Who trained you?”

“Corb. He’s the best,” Joe answered.

I looked over my shoulder. He was almost out of sight and moving fast through the bush, though he made very little sound.

Nope, didn’t like him at all. I itched to call Eammon and ask him if Joe really was on an assignment, but I had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t.

All ideas of phoning Eammon slipped away as I turned the last corner, pushed some low-hanging moss aside, and got my first good look at Eric’s home. One story and built sturdy with brick—something of a surprise this far out in the reserve—it had one door and four small windows, tall and narrow, two to each side of the door. They couldn’t even have let in much light.

I did see movement behind one window, like someone twitching a curtain maybe. “Eric? It’s Breena. We met at the cemetery a couple of weeks ago. Eammon sent me to . . .” I wondered how to word this. I didn’t want to say I’d been assigned to babysit him because he was a pansy. “. . . to hang out with you for a few days, make sure things are good.”