Nevermore (Crossbreed Series Book 6)

: Chapter 12



I didn’t sleep much that night, not with all the men stomping around the trailer like giants. I’d overslept, and when I finally put on a pair of sweats and wandered into the kitchen, Mr. Mustache was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee.

“I made you a fresh pot,” he said.

With my brows furrowed, I poured a cup and sat across from him. “Where are your buddies?”

“Under the house, looking at the heating duct system. Your old man needs a new place.”

“Tell me about it. He’s always made his own repairs, but I guess he’s getting older and lazier.”

“We’ll have this place running tip-top in no time. I’m Wizard. Some call me Wiz for short, but I hate that fucking name. Sounds like I’m taking a piss.”

I smirked. “You’re Wizard and I am a wizard.”

He took a slow sip of his coffee. “I heard about that. A Mage, huh?”

I reached across the table and touched his arm.

He recoiled from the shock. “Damn. Better watch out or you’ll blow a fuse.”

“Did Crush go to work?”

Wizard lifted his mug. “An hour ago. He said not to wake you.”

Of course he did. Especially now that he knew why I’d been hanging around him everywhere he went like some kind of bodyguard.

I leaned back and combed my fingers through my hair, messing it up even more. “How much is the damage?”

Wizard set down his cup. “Between us? It’s free. Just don’t tell Crush that.”

“No, I’ve got the money to pay you. It’s the least I can do after you showed up in the middle of the night like that. I’m just glad he has friends he can count on.”

“Crush is a good man. He’s done a lot of good things for the packs and especially for rogues who are just looking for a way to make ends meet.”

I glanced through the window at the overcast sky, the cup warming my hands. “I’m not staying here forever. I just wanted to visit and make sure he has everything he needs. Do you guys live nearby? I mean… does Crush have anyone looking out for him?”

Wizard frowned. “I don’t catch your drift.”

“If something happened to him, who would know?”

He shrugged and sipped his coffee again. “Wolves run the perimeter around here. Some of the trailers up the road are owned by Shifters. If something’s up, they’ll know. We don’t see a lot of crime happening around here anymore. Is there anything in particular I should be concerned about?”

“I don’t know.” My gaze drifted to the muddy footprints by the door. “I work a dangerous job and make enemies in the process. I just want to be sure someone’s looking out for my father. I can’t always be here to protect him.”

“Tell you what. When you take off, I’ll put a wolf on him. How’s that? Free of charge.”

“Why would you do that?”

Wizard emptied his cup and set it down. “Because a long time ago, Crush did something for me he didn’t have to do, and I’ve held a favor in my pocket for all that time, but he’s never called me on it. Never will. That’s why I’ve been wanting to fix up his place. But since you’re paying for it, I’ll do this other thing. He doesn’t have to know.”

I grabbed a napkin and found a pen on a side shelf. After scribbling my phone number, I shoved it toward him. “If anything out of the ordinary happens, call me.”

Wizard studied the number for a minute before wadding up the napkin and shoving it into his empty coffee cup. “I’ve got a photographic memory.”

“Thanks. Most of you guys are only nice to me by default, but I appreciate everything you do for him.”

“That’s what family does. Crush has a big family, and you’re part of it whether you like it or not.”

I chuckled and folded my arms. “I bet gossip is flying about where I’ve been and what I put Crush through by faking my death.”

Wizard groomed his mustache with one hand. “People can say whatever they want, but that doesn’t negate the love you have for your old man. Everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes we don’t have any other choice. You didn’t know he was a trusted human, so I guess that complicated things.”

“Can I ask you something?”

He leaned back and bumped the table when he stretched his legs. “Shoot.”

“Why did Crush say he didn’t have the money to pay for your help? Were you giving him high estimates?”

Wizard drummed his fingers on the table and dodged my gaze.

“I’m his daughter,” I reminded him. “I’ve got a right to know if he’s struggling with his business or invested in bad stocks.”

“You didn’t hear this from me,” he began on a long breath. “I was at the bar one night and overheard someone talking to a friend about how Crush had hired a bounty hunter.”

“What the hell would he need a bounty hunter for?”

Wizard stood up, arms outstretched before they fell to his sides. “It’s not my business to pry into another man’s affairs. And if he hasn’t mentioned anything to you about it, then maybe you need to respect his privacy. In other words, don’t tell him I told you.”

“Where would he find a bounty hunter?”

Wizard heaved a sigh and pointed his finger. “If you tell him that I gave you this info, he’s gonna rip out all the upgrades from this trailer. So think about that.”

“I gotcha.”

He ran his hand over his mustache and squinted. “The only place on this side of town the bounty hunters like to hang out at is Magic Hour. People who go there are looking to do business.”

I yawned and glanced at the clock. “How long are you guys staying?”

“Till the job gets done.” Wizard gave me a pointed look. “If you’ve got somewhere to go, don’t worry about locking up. We’ll be here.”

“Good. You can send me a message with the bill when you’re all done. But do me a favor and take off your boots before coming inside. You’re tracking dirt and mud all over the place.”

He smiled sheepishly and glanced down at the linoleum. “Sorry ’bout that.”

“One more thing?”

“You got it.”

“Who’s the bounty hunter?”

Before entering Magic Hour, I cased the outside of the Breed bar and tried to get a feel for what kind of people might be inside. It had a special Breed mark painted on the wood door, along with a sign that said: Members Only.

That kept humans out.

But it didn’t keep the criminals out. There weren’t many expensive cars in the parking lot nor were there a lot of motorcycles. Just a mixed bag of vehicles. The building had no windows, not even heavily tinted ones. I didn’t like Breed bars much, especially ones I wasn’t familiar with, and this place was located in bumfuck nowhere.

Once inside, I unzipped my jacket so I could access my dagger, which was secured to a sheath sewn in the lining. I should have brought all my weapons with me when I left Keystone, but I didn’t think I’d need them.

I scanned my surroundings. Forest-green paint covered the walls, and all the wood was a reddish color with a high polish, including the paneled ceiling. Neon signs affixed to the walls brightened the room. The massive bar on the right curved like a snake instead of running straight, and alcohol filled the shelves all the way up to the ceiling. Thick wood beams and a low rail with hand-carved balusters separated a room on the left from the main bar. The dim light in there from sconces and recessed lighting invited a sense of privacy. There were short green candleholders on the tables, casting shadows on the faces of those watching me.

I walked alongside the bar until I snagged the bartender’s attention. “Do you know someone named Boots?”

He jerked his chin toward the room behind me and continued wiping down the bar with a clean rag.

I walked through an opening and searched the room for a biker. A one-word name like Boots usually spelled it out, especially in this area of town. There were several men drinking alone, but my eyes settled on a baldheaded guy on the far end. He had a stony look on his scarred face and a nice pair of cowboy boots.

As I headed toward him, a long leg blocked my path when a woman propped her foot in the chair next to her booth.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” she said.

“I’m here to meet a friend.”

“Funny. I heard you were looking for Boots, and Boots doesn’t have any friends.”

“How would you know?”

She pointed at the knee-length boot on her leg. “Because I’m Boots.”

I gave her a scrutinizing look.

“What’s the matter? Never seen a female bounty hunter?”

“How do I know you’re not playing me?”

She squinted at me for a minute before her lips turned into a smile. “Plan to stab me with the stunner inside the left breast of your jacket?”

I looked down to see if it was poking out, but it was tucked away. “How did you know?”

“It’s not that warm in here, but the first thing you did was unzip your jacket. Easy access. I know all about easy access,” she said, licking her lips. “Strange bar, strange people.”

“How did you know which side it was on?”

“You unzipped the jacket with your right hand, so the only logical place to keep a weapon is in the left inside pocket. Unless you have a sheath sewn in there, which I’m betting you do. A girl can’t be careless with a nice leather jacket.”

With that, I took a seat across from the blonde. She didn’t have a speck of makeup on but had a beautiful canvas to work with. Large green eyes, full lips, and a heart-shaped face. Her hair was short like a man’s, and despite the numerous earrings that pierced her lobes, she didn’t wear other jewelry or have anything else pierced that I could see.

“So, friend,” she began, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “what exactly are we catching up on? Old times? I have a pretty good memory, and I don’t recognize you.”

I noticed the bowl of green cocktail olives in front of her. “I’m here to ask about a man named Crush.”

She stabbed a stuffed olive with a toothpick and ate it. “I don’t know anyone named Crush.”

I reached in my pocket and pushed a hundred-dollar bill her way. “He’s my father. Does the name ring a bell yet?”

“Ding, ding.” She folded the bill and tucked it inside her boot. “I have two rules before we begin. Don’t tell me your name, and don’t ever slide money across the table again. Ever heard of being clandestine? Now, what do you want to know?”

“What did he hire you for?”

“What do all men hire me for?” She devoured another olive, a crafty smile on her face. “I’m a tracker, sweetheart.”

I folded my arms across the table. Two could play at this game. “What is the name of the person he hired you to track, and what was the reason?”

She sipped what looked like vodka on ice. “He didn’t know at first. He gave me a description and what kind of food the guy ate. I spent two weeks visiting every butcher in town.”

“Food?”

“Lamb shanks,” she said, poking at another olive.

I sat back, and my face must have gone pale. To my knowledge, Crush hadn’t known about Fletcher prior to my coming home. Christian must have leaked just enough details for him to go on.

“He paid up front.” Boots waggled her eyebrows while licking her olive. “You want a drink?”

“No. What did you find out?” I took a deep breath, my heart racing. Had he found Fletcher? Was he only pretending not to know?

When Boots finished molesting her olive, she used her teeth to pull it off the toothpick. “Fletcher Black is the man’s name. Once I found a receipt, I was able to trace it to his banker. From there, I got his home address, but he’d already split. I checked out the property myself, and it looked like some dark and twisted shit went down there. Chains in the basement, blood, and you don’t even want to know.”

Suddenly it felt as if a spotlight was highlighting all my dark secrets. Boots couldn’t have known it was me in there, but she stared for an uncomfortably long time.

“I was on the case for a month,” she went on. “One of my contacts with the Mageri gave me his alias, but that turned up nada. I thought maybe he went back to England where he’s from, so I flew over there and poked around. Nothing. He just”—she snapped her fingers—“vanished into thin air.”

I got chills thinking about it.

“Sure you don’t want that drink?” she asked. “You look like you could use it.”

“How much did he pay you?”

Boots poked at another olive. “I’m not usually in the business of giving away those details.”

Clearly she was willing to give away a whole lot more than most for the right price. I reached underneath the table and slipped her a bill. Boots leaned back for a sec to look at it and then took a drink.

“He paid me a hundred large.”

My jaw slackened. “One hundred thousand dollars?”

“Do you want me to draw it on a chalkboard? That’s my going rate for what he wanted.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Did you give him a refund?”

Her lip curled, and she leaned in close. “I don’t work for charity. People pay me for my tracking services, but there’s never a guarantee I’ll catch the person they’re looking for. I get paid for putting my ass on the line. Not to mention the expensive plane ticket to Europe and all the people I had to pay off for information. Once I deduct all the travel expenses, bribes, and other costs, what’s left is mine to keep. Don’t judge.”

Last night, Crush had said Fletcher’s name as if hearing it for the first time, but now I realized he’d been pretending for my sake.

I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. A hundred large? What was he thinking? This was disastrous. No wonder he didn’t have any money to spare for a new heater.

“Crush sure makes some pretty babies. And feisty. I like that. It makes the kitten in me want to purr.”

I reached across the table and took one of her olives. “Thanks for your help. Is there anything else I should know?”

She slid a business card my way and licked her lips. “Only that I’ve got a real easy way for you to get a refund on today’s payment. I’ve got a weakness for pretty eyes. And you not wearing a bra just makes me want to rub up against all that.”

I cracked a smile and got up. “Keep the two hundred. I’m worth more. But if you want to negotiate what Crush paid, give me a call.”

She growled like a kitten as I headed through the bar, out the door, and directly to Graves Auto Repair.


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