Burned (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 1) (22 page)

"There's a Shaitan at two o'clock who seems to have her eye on you," Farah told him.

Casually, he glanced in that direction. "How do you know she's a Shaitan?"

Farah tossed back her beer. "Because she has horns where her tits should be."

I laughed. "You're not very observant, are you?"

"Says the djinni who was willing to overlook Flynn's bad qualities." He arched an eyebrow, challenging me.

"Ancient history," I said.

"Well, ancient history just walked into the present." He nodded toward the front door where Flynn had stepped inside, alone.

"Is he stalking you again?" Farah asked.

"Possibly. He has a tendency to do that."

Sure enough, Flynn sauntered over to our table like he knew exactly where I was.

"Good evening."

"Looking for me, darling?" I asked with a wide smile.

He nodded without returning the smile. "Wanted to make sure the rumors were true."

"That I got my ass kicked again?" How he would have loved to be a spectator for that particular sport.

His jaw tightened. "That you're alive."

I opened my mouth for a snappy comeback, but the serious expression on Flynn's face stopped me. His relief was palpable.

"I'm alive," I replied. "How's Tessa?"

He shifted. "She'll be fine."

"So she hasn't kicked you out?"

"Not yet. There's always tomorrow." So Tessa stuck around, even after finding out the truth about Flynn. Interesting.

"Want to train next Thursday at eight?" I asked. My attempt at an apology.

"You sure you're up for it?" he asked.

"Always," I said.

"Thought so. You never could resist physical contact with me." He grinned, and just that quickly, the old Flynn was back. All was forgiven.

"I think you mean physical combat," I corrected him, but he was already slithering out the front door. Egotistical bastard.

My phone rang and I glanced up quizzically. It wasn't Flynn and the only other two people who would call were sitting right in front of me.

I picked up the phone. Unknown caller.

"Hello? Is this Miss Winters?" The male voice on the other end was nervous and uncertain.

"Who's asking?"

"My name is Greg. Detective Thompson gave me your number. She said you were good at recovering lost things...You know, possessions and stuff. I can pay you."

I smiled at my friends. "I'm good at finding nouns of any kind, in fact. How can I help?"

Finding 'stuff' may not be a job for a Shadow Elite agent, but it would have to do -- for now.

* * *

T
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Burned
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