“So you heard I went to Seattle, huh?” I sipped my drink, watching him.

“Roger got a call from a shifter named Joe in Seattle. Joe said you did Seattle a service of some kind. Roger didn’t say what.” Red licked his lips, still nervous. Usually he settled down when he realized I wasn’t going to hurt him. He clearly had a really good secret. I still didn’t want to know. “Our orders on you are on hold. We were told not to track and report.”

“Roger had you guys on track and report with me? That explains why you were always hanging around.” I shook my head. That was annoying, but good on the bartender for fulfilling his end of the bargain. “But that’s on hold?”

“Yeah.”

“Not called off for good?”

Red shrugged helplessly. “You’re…you. You cause trouble.”

“I clean up trouble, actually. That’s what bounty hunters do.”

“You cause it in order to clean it up.”

“Well now, that’s just confusing.” I let it go. “Listen, you’ve helped me out a lot over the years.”

He eyed me warily.

“You made a lot of marks really easy to find,” I continued.

His brow lowered. He expected the shoe to drop, and equally expected to be under it.

My manic grin probably wasn’t helping matters.

“So I’m going to give you a whole bunch of gossip.” I waited to see his reaction. It was still one of mistrust.

“About what?” he asked.

“My foray in Seattle. What went down, the mages’ involvement, and how I helped. How Joe’s bar was blown up. You know, a bunch of stuff no one knows but…well, me. And soon, you.”

Distrust crossed his features. “Why would you tell me?” Then the wariness kicked in again. The guy’s face was like a comic book. “Because I don’t have any information to trade. I mean it.”

“Stop taunting me with your secrets. It’s making me want to drag them out of you, and I don’t want to know.” I nearly rubbed my eyes until I remembered I had makeup on. “Why you? Because I’m giving back. But if you don’t want to know, that’s cool. I couldn’t care less.” I made a move to leave.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Red held out a hand. “I’m listening.”

With a smile, I told him the things that were fine for him to know—things that could be spread around and gossiped about without stirring up a lot of drama. Things that would damage the reputation of the guild and make the vampires and shifters look good. Also make the mages of NOLA look good. Sure, there was an ulterior motive—bringing magical people together to combat that corrosive magical force—but Red got to have all of it for absolutely free. It would give him something a small-time player like him rarely had: Roger’s undivided attention.

When I was finished, I leaned over to pat him again—I loved making him flinch; my bad—and headed out. “Good luck, buddy.”

He watched me go with a bewildered expression, probably amazed that I honestly didn’t want the golden egg he was sitting on. My phone buzzed with a text as I exited the bar.

I got a high-dollar case if you want it. It was from the captain. Big money. Dangerous.

Impulse had me unlocking my phone to reply, but I kept from typing yes. The captain’s case was probably directly linked with whatever Red was hiding. And while in the past, the intrigue alone would’ve had me agreeing, not this time. I had gotten too close to unspeakable horrors in the last week. For my own safety, I needed to take a back seat for a while. I needed to train.

No thanks, I typed back. I quit.

Good. Get a hobby.

I smiled as I headed away, not paying attention to where I was walking, just going wherever my feet took me. It wasn’t long before I blinked up at the large corner house in the French Quarter. A ghost tour had stopped kitty-corner, staring up at it in awe and hearing a tale about the vampire who’d once owned it when New Orleans was young. Little did they know that a vampire owned it now, and he was just as suave and debonair as the one in the guide’s story. Less obvious, though. Probably.

I ran my fingers through my hair, probably fraying the loose curls I’d worked so hard on creating, ruining the hairstyle. Why did it matter?

I chewed on my lip and looked away.

Because I want to look pretty for him for once.

My stomach fluttered as that damning thought curled around my head.

What was I doing? He was a vampire, for criminy sakes! Callie would kill me. Then she’d start talking about ways to kill him without being found out. Dizzy would just nod in agreement with her.

I needed to forget about Seattle. Forget about Darius, and vampires, and the whole thing. The dual mages could rig something up to keep Darius’s minions out of my house. I knew they could. It was telling that I hadn’t asked them to before now. But I should. This had gotten out of hand.

With a heavy heart, I kept on walking, blindly, pretending it was the humidity that made my eyes sting with unshed tears.

Once I was tired of touring the town, I took a Lyft home and had it drop me down the street from my house, where Mince idled, staring at his phone.

“Hey,” I said, climbing from the car.

He glanced up, a big guy with pulpy features and a thick nose. He’d been a boxer back in the day, and had the face to show for it. “Hey.” He gave me a rare smile. “I haven’t seen you around in a while. Smokey said you went to Seattle.”

I leaned against a stranger’s banister as I looked at the cemetery wall. “Yeah. The weather’s really nice there at this time of year.”

“I’ll bet.” He put his phone down. “What were you doing there?”

“Working.”

“You have a job? Huh. For some reason I thought you were unemployed.”

Mince always confused me with the old white lady up the street. “Not really. I’m going to lie low for a while, though. Hang around.”

“Good.” He nodded and went back to his phone. “Mikey relaxes more when you’re here, which means the rest of us don’t have to bounce around on eggshells.”

I laughed at his unique take on the saying. “Anything else going on?”

“Nah.” He gestured down the sidewalk. “Smokey is watching your house. You had a break-in.”

My mouth dropped open. “Really, Mince, you couldn’t have started with that?”

“What?” he asked my retreating back. “You always have break-ins!”

That was true, but still. The guy needed a lesson on what was noteworthy.

I crossed the street hurriedly when I spotted Smokey’s skulking figure in the entrance of the cemetery. He was harmless, but boy did he put out the creepy vibe.

“Hey,” I said, nearing. “Did you get any pictures?”

“Yes.” He dug out his phone, touched the screen, swiped, and then angled it toward me. “That’s the human.”

He was talking like a magical person. That probably wasn’t good, since he was human and technically shouldn’t know about the supernatural.

The picture showed the back of a man’s head. Smokey swiped. The side of the man’s face. Smokey swiped. A blurry shot of the front. No help.

“Cool, thanks,” I said, leaning away.

“Do you want me to text them to you?”

Why, so I could memorize the mundane haircut? “I got it right up here.” I tapped my temple.

He nodded, like he had figured that was the case. I was magical, after all. I should be able to do superhuman things like remember blurry pictures. Little did he know, the images were already forgotten.

“He was the one that broke in?” I asked, turning to face my house. A window glowed.

I hadn’t left any lights on.

My stomach fluttered again.

“No. He left right after you did. Were you followed?”

I frowned. “Not that I noticed. I looked when you texted.”

He grunted. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Another one walked in through the front.” He swiped and showed me a picture of my open front door. Then another. Then the door mostly closed.