Free Death Match (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 2) by A. Blythe Page A

cheeseburger. Medium well with cheddar and thick Canadian bacon.
    "Your ticket and hotel are booked," Jamie said. "Here's everything you need to know."
    He slipped me a hot pink envelope. I knew there'd be a birthday card inside. The kind that played music when you opened the card, except mine wouldn't play music. Instead of a sound chip, my card would include a microchip with Shadow Elite instructions.
    I opened the envelope and pretended to admire the garish card with its brightly colored flowers and birds. Happy birthday to a wonderful niece . No doubt the inside had a sappy message.
    "You don't need to read it now," Jamie said, which I interpreted as don't read it now . I slid the card into my black Alexander Wang clutch.
    He watched me close the purse. His expression suggested he had more to say.
    "Anything else?" I prompted.
    His focus moved from my purse to my face. "Ever think about doing something else?"
    "You mean a new career?" The thought hadn't occurred to me. In my mind, I hadn't been working as an agent long enough to contemplate change. That moment was twenty years down the road when I was jaded and burnt out. Not now, when I was still high on life and riding high on my powers.
    "Maybe." He shrugged. "You've been doing the same job for several years now."
    "Human measurements of time are nothing to a djinni," I said. "You know that."
    His brow creased. "You don't think about moving on?"
    "For what purpose?" I asked. "I already get to travel the world. Meet new people. Expensive perks." I patted my purse.
    "The job doesn't get to you?" he asked, his voice softer now. More serious than his casual, amused tone.
    "Not really." I eyed him carefully. "What's going on? Are you thinking about rejoining society? Give me a heads up if you decide to quit. I want a say in choosing my new handler."
    He chuckled at that. We both knew I didn't get a say in anything. The Shadow Elite gave the orders and I executed them. I was a cog in a busy wheel, nothing more.
    "Why are you so content?" he asked. "Powers like yours." He sucked in a breath. "You could be in charge of whatever you wanted. An agency. A Marida court. A small nation." He smiled.
    "Power corrupts," I said. "Absolute power...Well, you know how that goes."
    "You think you'd give in to the dark side?" he asked. "So this is you, keeping yourself in check?"
    "Maybe." I'd been working solo for a while. I didn't have a sounding board to tell me when I was riding over a cliff. Jamie was the closest person I had and I only spoke to him when a new assignment demanded it.
    "If that's true, then why work for us? Why not stay with PAN? You'd be coloring inside the lines for the rest of your life over there. No fear of slipping."
    That much was true. PAN was almost as annoying as the Enclave and the Protectorate when it came to rules and regulations. While I appreciated the order it brought to the chaotic world of supernaturals, I didn't relish the idea of being squashed under its thumb.
    "Forget inside the lines, I don't like coloring at all," I said. "That's someone else's picture and you're just filling it in. I want to draw my own damn picture."
    He gave me a hard look. "You think you're drawing your own pictures now?"
    Heat rushed to my cheeks. He had a point.
    "Our team plays fast and loose with the rules." That was more my style. I was highly adaptable.
    "And why does that appeal to you?" he asked.
    "You're my handler, not my therapist," I teased. "Back in your box, big fella."
    His features softened. "I'm your friend, Alyse. I don't want to see you hurt."
    "Jamie, you're not my friend. You're my handler. You work for a covert agency. Every assignment you give me could result in injury or death. Friends don't give friends deadly missions. It simply isn't done."
    "That doesn't bother you? That I could be sending you off to your death?"
    My attitude was, as always, cavalier. "We're professionals. I expect you to do your job, just like I do mine. No hard feelings."
    He