Chapter 14 Debts Paid, Debts Owed #2
He raked a hand over his head, drawing another hard breath at the feel of the hair he’d let grow in just a little.
There was no need to keep it regulation anymore, but letting it grow too much felt strange.
He dropped his arm to his side and looked around the land again. I do not have time for this shit.
His fingers tapped restlessly against the phone in his pocket for several seconds while he debated his options.
Giving up on the goal he’d only just set for himself was a surrender he was not prepared for.
The bodies were a problem. There’d been no witnesses, the shooter hadn’t ever fired, and of course shifters reverted to their human bases in death so both pieces of that fucker presented as normal human male.
The nakedness of the shifter would just make it all awkward on top of sending the situation to shit.
Especially since Jenna was theoretically at the sheriff’s office right that very moment, making a scene in her efforts to find one damn badge-carrying asshole who cared about his job.
He also needed to make sure Lance hadn’t been jumped while he was laid-up. Lance’s retaliatory options were fewer inside occupied civilian spaces.
Fuck it. It was time to call in a favor he’d had on-deck for a few years.
He’d never known what to do with the damn thing, anyway.
The notion of asking anything of the woman had always felt like taking the cheater’s way, but in this case, he saw the value.
So, he pulled his phone from his pocket and strode a few paces away from the bodies as he scrolled to the singular initial he’d saved her under.
He still had no signal, but she’d said that wouldn’t matter, so he tapped the call button and waited.
Dead air filled the space for several seconds, followed by one long ring and a distinct click. Then came a female voice he could only assume was the right one—it wasn’t like they socialized. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite soldier. Finally taking this debt off my shoulders?”
Jon scoffed. “Soldiers are Army. I’m a Marine.” He paused. “Yeah, I’ve got something that should satisfy it. How soon can you get to me?”
A subtle disruption in the atmosphere to his right preceded another click at his ear as the line disconnected and her voice, closer and clearer, said, “Is this soon enough?”
Jon sighed and tucked his phone away. Fucking magic.
He eyed the redhead he’d met some four years prior.
When he’d encountered her on that mission, entirely by accident, she’d been disheveled and trapped behind some anti-magic barrier.
That whole mission had been a fucking nightmare, but since the heart of it had been equal parts hostage rescue and enemy elimination, Jon hadn’t thought twice about destroying the magic-eating glyph things and setting her free.
He never would have expected her to do the rest of the job for them, purely because she was pissed.
“The idea of owing anyone any sort of debt grates on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard,” she said, striding up to him as the smoke still billowed around them.
Her ragged, torn and soiled clothing swirled before his eyes, transforming into a different material altogether as it re-settled around her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “But I will acknowledge that a debt is nonetheless precisely what I owe you, Jon Johnson.”
Jon stiffened. He hadn’t told this stranger his given name.
She smiled. “Identities are easy. Don’t worry, your memories are safe.
” She glanced to the side. “Speaking of, this is all going to be rather hazy for the rest of them. You men did fine work here, that’s what you’ll report.
And when you find the thing that your obnoxiously useful power can’t save you from, call for me.
I’ll come to repay my debt. But make sure the thing you call me for is actually important. ”
That sounded ominous as fuck, but Jon bit the words back and instead asked the more reasonable question. “And what do I call you, exactly?”
“Stasya,” Jon greeted, pushing the memory down. “You’re as dramatic as I remember.”
Her dark-painted lips lifted in a smirk and she turned, ignoring the bodies practically brushing against her stiletto heeled boots to better take in the space around them. “This seems an odd place to set up a base camp.”
He bit back a sigh. “This land belonged to my grandfather. I learned today that he left it to me, but it’s … been neglected.”
“Don’t tell me you called for me to do your landscaping.”
“If that were all, I wouldn’t have.” Jon motioned to the bodies. “There’s some shit going on. The local law would rather arrest me than hear my side of this, and I don’t have time to clear out overgrown land and start building while there are so many missing people around. Life has to come first.”
Stasya arched a brow. “And you’re asking me to…?”
Jon ground his teeth, agitated more at the situation than her question, and finally replied, “I need these bodies to disappear, and I would appreciate if you could clear up this property. I’m not looking to keep the old house, either.
I’ll be building something larger here once the paperwork’s lined up.
But that jumpstart would be a big help.”
Stasya finally turned toward the corpses and let out a low hum. “Interesting.” She returned her haunting stare to him and planted a hand on her hip. “I take it you don’t want to live here?”
“Correct. I’m going to start a search and rescue company.”
Amusement danced across her face. “Ever the hero.” She flicked a wrist at him. “All right, if this is helpful to you, I’ll do it. A debt is a debt. But after this, you’ll have to pay for my services.”
“Thank you, Stasya,” he said, choosing not to comment on the fact that he had no intention of calling for whatever services she might charge for. She’d been insistent on the debt thing, but he never had been sure she was someone he could trust in a more general sense.
Instead of waiting around to watch her do whatever she might do, Jon gave the sorceress-of-unknown-origin a nod and jogged back to his truck. He didn’t get cell signal again until he’d formally reentered Misty Glades, but as soon as he did, he pulled into the nearest parking lot and dialed Lance.
The line rang long enough for Jon to hope he hadn’t wasted his favor repayment on the wrong thing before the asshole picked up. “Is this when I get to learn why my first lunch date with my future bride got cut short by the lady you’re supposed to be—”
Jon groaned and cut him off. “I could tell you about that, too, but only if you don’t make my mood worse.”
Lance chuckled. “Funny that they’re friends, though, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not laughing.”
Jon let his head drop back. “You doin’ okay? Other than missing your new obsession?”
“Uh, I mean … I’ve been worse. I’ve been better.” Lance paused and Jon pictured him squinting sideways at the phone. “Something wrong with you?”
“I’m just checking in.” Equal parts truth and not, but he intended to say the rest, too. “The guys who put you in the hospital circled back for me. Tying up loose ends. You seemed objectively like the easier target, and I’ve been distracted.”
Lance laughed again. “No shit, you have. Not that I blame you.” He nearly choked on his own words, tone immediately changing. “Wait, you didn’t.”
“Sorry, man. Didn’t have a choice. They cornered me out on the property I fucking inherited from my grandpa. One of them even had a damn attack bird.”
Lance snorted. “A what? Like, a magic bird? Did it shift, talk, what?”
“Goddamn blue jay.” Jon rolled his eyes and waited a beat while Lance laughed that image out of his system. “I know I owe you,” he said, “but I did get a lead. Apparently, the bird belonged to some guy they called PJ, who wasn’t there.”
“PJ?” Lance repeated. “As in the short-hand for ‘pajama’?”
“Yep.”
Lance was quiet a moment. Then, “Suppose I’ve heard worse. So, you’ve got a pissed off pajama-boy to worry about, and I need to keep my eyes open for shady fuckers. Sounds like a normal day.”
Jon felt his lips twitch. “Just wanted to give you the heads-up, man.” He drummed his fingers over the steering wheel. “While I’ve got you, how do you feel about helping me launch a private rescue company?”
“Okay, Lilia’s going to dive into this for us.
You might want to give Martha a heads-up, because they’ll definitely need to talk, too, but she’s completely on board with smacking some sense into those assholes.
” Lynnette finally drew a quick breath and her smirk broadened.
“Or taking this all public as a platform to launch an emergency impeachment. Either way.”
“Oh my God,” Jenna exclaimed, a strange combination of excitement and terror rolling through her.
It was reassuring to at least have one person with some degree of power on their side, but the notion of inadvertently causing such an upheaval was unsettling.
There would be people who didn’t approve, people who would blame her.
It really never needed to come to this at all.
She gave herself a shake and lifted her phone. “I’ll let Martha know real quick.”
Lynnette bobbed her head and leaned against the sidewall of her truck bed.
Jenna swept her gaze outward, absently watching the road beyond the old parking lot while she spoke to Steph’s mother.
They had swung into the lot for an old county church that had been converted into a movie theater when Jenna was young, and inevitably been abandoned outright before she’d even graduated high school.
To make conversation easier, Lynnette had dropped the tailgate on her old pickup—though, Jenna had done most of the sitting. Lynnette was prone to pacing.
Martha was sobbing by the time Jenna ended the call, but she seemed to recognize what they were trying to do. The sound of the woman’s pain and fear fractured Jenna’s heart and she held tighter to her phone.
Lynnette leaned into her. “You’re doing everything you can,” she said. “Hell, you’re doing way more than most bosses would. Try not to beat yourself up.”
“I know.” Jenna swallowed down the lump of emotion in her throat. “I know whatever happened to Steph isn’t my fault. I’m just”—her arms shook with tension as she tried to contain the volatile feelings inside—“I’m so angry at them!”
Lynnette bobbed her head. “Perfectly reasonable. If assaulting a police officer wasn’t actually against the law, I’d have put that smug prick on his ass in his own lobby.”
Jenna barked out a laugh. “That would have been so satisfying to see!”
She almost missed the movement of another car swinging into the lot on the far side, and she didn’t see the second car that had come in from the opposite entrance until it had angled to a stop.
Both pulled up at forward-facing angles that effectively blocked either Jenna or Lynnette from easily moving their vehicles.
The women had parked off to a side of the lot; there was plenty of space for more vehicles. The only reason for the newcomers to do what they’d done was if they were deliberately coming for them.
Lynnette pushed to her feet and walked up to lean over the roof of her truck as doors popped open from both new arrivals. “Hey,” Lynnette called, “what’s the big idea, blocking us in? We’re not bothering anyone.”
Unease twisted Jenna’s gut and she made sure to keep her phone out of sight even as she turned in place to see what was happening.
Four men in total stood across from them.
Tattoos covered their darker skin almost everywhere Jenna could see, her gaze snagging on particularly distinct lettering that curved around the neck of the driver blocking her own car.
She could make out what looked like three letters—V, E, and R—as well the leg of another that continued past the R.
She supposed those could also not be the beginning of whatever word he’d branded himself with. Not that such a detail mattered.
The man with the neck tattoo that had caught Jenna’s eye raised his chin and, in clear but accented English, he said, “PJ sends his regards.”