As little sense as it made, I couldn’t shake the feeling she was right. “Fine.” Shooting the goblin would be a waste of a bullet anyway. “Orthus, please let the goblin go, so the nice man can tape him up.”
The dog blinked at me once, then opened his broad black jaws. Dirk flinched, as if being released hurt worse than being bitten in the first place. But he clearly knew better than to make any sudden movements.
Orthus backed away, then he sat on his haunches staring at me, as if waiting for a word of praise. I might have actually given him one if he were a German shepherd, or even a rottweiler. But he was a hellhound, with eerie reddish-black fur and a tendency to shed it all at once—along with his skin. As much weird shit as I’d witnessed in my two-plus centuries on earth, I’d never seen anything like this dog, and I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with him. He freaked me out. Mostly because of his eyes, ever-shifting pinpoints of crimson light in the darkness. Flickering almost like flames…
“…so much as twitch, she’ll put a bullet right in the center of your forehead,” Murphy said to Dirk, pulling a strip of tape from the roll. “You can do that, can’t you Lex? Can I call you Lex?”
I blinked, only belatedly aware that he was talking to me. “Well, that is my name.” Though I’d certainly been called worse. “And yes, I can put a bullet right between his eyes.”The dog’s eyes? Or the goblin’s?Who was I agreeing to shoot?
Dirk huffed, one corner of his mouth curling up in a cocky sneer, and I had my answer. “She’s bluffing. I’m unarmed, and she’s agirl.”
I should have just shot him in the first place.
“She’s Lex Walker,” Murphy said, and I was only half-surprised to realize he knew who I was. Not just my first name, but who Iactuallywas. And what I did for a living—so to speak. Evidently he’d already spoken to…his mother? Could Daphne Murphy possibly be his mother? No. She was too young. Way too young. Maybe another sister?
Or a wife. She was his wife. She had to be.Damn it.
Not that it mattered. After I’d turned over the target and collected my fee, I would never see Cale Murphy again.
Dirk glanced at me over Murphy’s shoulder. “Lex Walker?” He raised one brow in almost comical skepticism. If he wasn’t buying my identity even after seeing me take out both of his fellow stooges, I had only my bare feet and wet tank top to blame.
Stomping across the cold, rough concrete into the center of the room, I aimed the gun at his forehead for effect, hoping the familiar pose would lend to my credibility. The goblin offered no resistance as Cari’s brother shoved him backward into the waiting armchair. Murphy strapped the goblin’s wrists to the arms of the chair, then slapped a short strip of tape over his broad mouth before taping his ankles to the wooden legs.
Orthus watched from several feet away, growling any time Murphy stepped too close. With Dirk completely—perhaps ridiculously—immobilized, Murphy tossed me the remaining tape and shot me a dark look I recognized as fury about to be unleashed.
My finger tightened on the trigger for an instant before I realized he was gunning for Dirk, not for me. I’d never seen a human look so…dangerous. So apocalyptically out-of-control.
A smile teased the corner of my mouth, and each breath came faster. Ilikedangerous.
Murphy turned back to the goblin. His arms went stiff, held away from his sides at low angles. He threw his head back, blond hair bouncing briefly.
“Cale, no!” Cari cried, wrapping her arms around herself.
For a moment, her brother didn’t move. Then his muscles relaxed slowly, and he pulled his head upright, abandoning whatever weird-ass retribution he’d been about to take. It was like watching a bomb explode in reverse as he visibly pulled himself back together, an effort that obviously took incredible self-control.
Then, in a sudden flash of motion, Murphy spun in an explosive full circle. His body unfurled before me, releasing the tension I’d just watched him reign in as his right foot flew in a broad arc. His boot slammed into the goblin’s left side.
Dirk made a muffledoofof impact behind the duct tape gag as he fell over sideways, chair and all. His head smacked the concrete, and I heard the resulting crack clearly from across the room.
Cari coughed as a gasp caught in her throat. Murphy turned to us, his blue eyes dark and violent, and surging with wrath. He took in her horrified look, and that anger melted away, his expression settling into the deceptive calm on the surface of a deep lake. “He’ll live. Goblins are tough little bastards,” he assured his sister, fists slowly unclenching at his sides. “Harder to kill than a fucking cockroach.”
I smiled, pleasantly surprised to see him go after a little vengeance. Even if only averylittle. Obviously someone in the branches of their mutual family tree had a mean streak, and I was damn glad to see it surface in at least one of the Murphys. I was starting to wonder how humanity had survived as long as it had, with tendencies like compassion and forgiveness forever rotting away at the roots of civilization.
“I mean, you can just step on a cockroach,” Cari mumbled.
“Let’s go.” My faith in mankind temporarily restored, I grabbed Cari by the arm and hauled my target down the center isle at a good clip, doing my best to ignore her brother as he jogged to catch up. I was ready to forget the Murphys and ease my aches with a hot bath and can of full-sugar Coke. Liberally laced with alcohol, of course.
Or maybe I should forget the caffeine and go right for the liquor. Three goblins, two humans, and a hellhound were enough to twist even the most promising, profitable evening into a straight tequila night.
Fortunately, I had come prepared.
FOUR
Istepped out of the factory and into the night, tugging Cari along with me. The rain had ended and the clouds were gone, leaving a heavenly sheet of black velvet studded with sparkling diamonds. It was beautiful. Peaceful, as if the universe couldn’t care less about the bullets and bloodshed I’d just unleashed.
Cari followed me onto the porch and down the steps—not that she had any choice—both of us sloshing through shallow puddles on the rough concrete. Goosebumps blossomed all over my skin as frigid water lapped at my bare feet. I was ready for some warm, dry clothes, and my fuzzy green Grinch slippers.
Murphy’s footsteps paused on the porch behind us, and several wet strands of hair slapped my face when I turned to see him yanking his blue button-down into place over the empty shoulder holster. “Where are your shoes?” Evidently, he’d just noticed my naked toes.
