Page 30 of Stubborn as a Shadow

“There, you look better now.” Morgan flashed me a quick thumbs-up, then he dropped his gaze to his menu like it required intense scrutiny. He oohed and aahed over the choices, whilemuttering happily and wiggling in his seat, as he decided on his order.

He was so fucking innocent.

Because, based on our very brief acquaintance, I doubted Morgan would be all that good at acting normal if he was scared. So he had to be blissfully unaware he was at the heart of a shitstorm. He’d even given me his real name, right from the beginning.

This whole situation was messed up.

Like a cactus with thorns punching out in all directions, the pillbox hiding the crystal poked at me through the thin lining in my pants’ pocket until it was all I could think about. If I gave it to Morgan tonight, would he agree to leave with me? My intuition told me it wouldn’t be that easy.

I wanted to believe Venus’d had Morgan’s best interests in mind when she tapped me for this mission, but there were too many unknowns. I should have demanded more answers from her. She’d wanted me to protect Morgan, or rather Rudy Tada, for a reason. So what the fuck was it?

Normally I’d be fine with seeing shadows at every turn, but not today. The longer I stewed over my options, the more I realized I didn’t have many.

Giving Morgan the crystal was too much of a risk. Everything inside me warned me I shouldn’t let him touch it until we were somewhere safe. The wolf had wanted him to have it, and nothing about her interaction with the vendor suggested she was altruistic.

My magic wasn’t connected to any kind of future-casting, but I’d been an SC agent for a lot of years. And through all those cases, I’d learned to listen to my instincts. They usually picked up on clues I hadn’t consciously registered yet.

So, if my intuition was telling me to watch my step, I was watching my fucking step—and Morgan’s too.

I itched to pull out my phone and fire off a message to Gage, but I needed more information first. If I called him now, he’d come storming, demon power pouring off him. And that was the last thing I needed.

My priority—well, my second priority after watching out for Morgan—was replenishing my magic. I’d shifted several times today, and that meant I was weaker than I wanted to be. Every supe had ways to balance their magic. For me, mushrooms did the trick. Like me, they didn’t need sunlight to thrive.

And thankfully they were on the menu.

A commotion at the restaurant’s entrance drew my attention.

“Son of a sunlit day,” I groaned, albeit softly, when I recognized the young woman talking to the host. She was one of the hunters who’d been skulking around my small town a month ago.

What was up with this mission? Shit was coming at me from every direction, as if the Eternal Magic was determined to keep me in a constant state of paranoia.

Paranormal hunters were the last thing this weekend needed.

They didn’t even try to hide their weapons or their faces. That was bold of them. I surreptitiously took out my phone and pretended to scroll through my messages as I snapped a couple of pictures. All around the room, other supes were doing the same thing.

It looked like I’d finally discovered what I had in common with the assholes who attended these kinds of events.

Honestly, the hunters were pretty brazen to waltz into a black magic market organized by the same supes they liked to hunt. Tammy, the woman who’d come poking around in October, had left her camouflage clothing at home this time. Instead, she was dressed in black from head to toe, like most of the other attendees, including Morgan and me. It almost made me wonderif I needed to tweak my own wardrobe selection. I really didn’t want to have too many things in common with these assholes.

Nah, fuck them. I liked black. It suited me.

I frowned as the hunters were seated at a nearby table. When an older woman at Tammy’s table glanced around the room, probably assessing the threats and taking note of the exits like I had, her gaze lingered on our table longer than I was comfortable with.

It made me wonder if the hunters had seen more of me when they were in Willow Lake than I’d thought. I must be losing my touch. Maybe it was a good thing I’d retired from the SC.

I stared at the woman, daring her to look our way again. But she didn’t.

Fuck, I hated that the hunters were here. And I hated supes who thought it was acceptable to do business with hunters almost as much as I hated the hunters themselves. I’d anticipated this possibility, but it still sucked. The last time I crossed paths with Tammy and her crew, I’d stolen the artifact they used to identify supes. We’d expected they would be on the hunt for another.

I itched to shift and slip over to their table to listen to their conversation, except that would leave Morgan alone. Unprotected. Vulnerable.

I couldn’t do that.

“Nelson?” Morgan kicked me under the table.

I pulled my gaze away from the hunters to find a server waiting to take my order. Fuck. I was really out of it if I’d missed their arrival and Morgan’s ordering his meal. It didn’t matter that the server was a mouse shifter, and my subconscious had obviously dismissed them as the least threatening presence in the room. I had to do better, or I’d get us both killed.

I hadn’t looked at the menu, so I just said I’d have the same as Morgan, whatever that was, with a triple side of the sauteedmushrooms. All I needed was fuel—for both my magic and my body. I didn’t care what form the fuel came in.