Free Dangerous Calling (The Shadowminds) by AJ Larrieu

“What kind of reason?”
    “They were sent to kill me. That enough for you?” He bit off the words, and I had to wonder if it was enough for him. He was losing control of his mental walls, and spikes of regret-soaked memory leaked through. Blood on his hands, tainted water in a bathtub, whisky in a glass, no ice. He ran his hand unconsciously over the tattoo of Emily’s name.
    “Who was she?” I asked softly.
    “Just a girl.” He looked away.
    “I mean, who was she to you?”
    He didn’t answer at first. He seemed to be searching for something to occupy his hands, and he finally settled on undoing the ties of his duffel bag and pulling out clothes. Jeans and dark T-shirts, athletic socks, a water bottle. “Doesn’t matter. Not anymore.” He stared at his socks as though they were priceless paintings.
    “All right,” I said, and left him in peace. I guess everyone was allowed to have secrets.
    * * *
    Shane wasn’t as moved by Ian’s situation as I was.
    “Territory or no territory, if he causes trouble here, I’m hauling his ass to Biloxi myself.”
    “I hope Susannah has some kind of plan. I mean—he can’t stay here forever.”
    “I wouldn’t be surprised if that is her plan.” Shane muttered. “We’ll deal with it later. I have an idea how to get Diana out.”
    “Does it involve me hurting anyone?” I’d lain awake half the night thinking about what we’d seen. I didn’t see how we’d be able to get within ten yards of the house without triggering security.
    “Right,” Shane said, watching my thoughts. “But what if we’re not storming the castle—what if we’re clients?”
    “You saw that envelope he gave her.” Buddy must have passed over a good five grand in cash, if the thickness of the package was any indication. “We don’t have that kind of money.”
    “Maybe not. But we know where to get it.”

Chapter Seven
    “ How much is out there? ” Shane sent. It was easier to mindspeak than yell over the roar of the two-stroke motor and the rush of water against the sides of the little powerboat.
    “ I have no idea. ” The last time I’d been to the Tooleys’ fishing camp, I’d been fighting for my life, and once that was taken care of, the only thing I’d thought about was fighting for Shane’s. I hadn’t stopped to count Ryan Tooley’s dirty money.
    He’d gotten it from the flock of faithful people he’d deceived into thinking he was working miracles. Offerings. The church he’d used had been abandoned a long time ago, and we’d run his business partner and front man out of the state. There was no way to track the original owners of all this cash, no way to make it right.
    “ I guess it’s technically Janine’s , now. ” Shane thought of her cramped, dirty apartment.
    Regret swamped me. I knew how difficult her finances were—this money could have helped. “ When this is over ,” I said, “ we’ll find a way to get it to her. ” It was too late to save her house, but maybe it wasn’t too late to save her.
    Shane eased the boat into a turn in the Amite River. We’d just left Lake Maurepas behind, and the way was still wide. It was a gorgeous day for a ride, all blue sky and glass-smooth water. The banks were lush and green with palmetto plants and blackberry bushes, cypress and tupelo. We passed a group of kids out waterskiing and had to slow down for a fisherman taking advantage of a fallen log against the bank. Shane waved to him in apology for the wake, and he waved back and returned to his line.
    The first camps showed up at the turn to Blue Sand River, only a few of them, some long abandoned to rot. Of the ones that were still in good repair, only one had a boat tied to the dock.
    “ After the next bend , I think. ” I’d only been to the Tooleys’ camp a handful of times, and half of them, I’d teleported. I began to fear I wouldn’t be able to find it, but we went through the next turn and I saw it. A weathered white camp on tall stilts,