Page 104 of Fresh Old Bounties

“No,” I said with conviction. “You don’t need to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s better if we know who he is but let him go. We can keep an eye on him, and it might come in handy later.”

“All right.”

I dissected his tone, but didn’t find a single hint of patronizing notes. Good.

No, bad. Very bad! This was why I couldn’t stay mad at him. He was always so…reasonable. Even in his callousness, he was reasonable and matter-of-fact. He didn’t discount my opinion by default, or think me stupid if I didn’t agree with him. He accepted my ideas at face value.

If I’d told him to haul Crane’s ass to bounty hunter jail, he’d have simply told me why it was a bad idea, and waited for me to agree or not. And if I hadn’t agreed, he wouldn’t have blown a gasket or turned his nose up at me. He’d have either done it or not. No drama, not thinking less of others. His actions, his decision.

Then I remembered how he had taken my decision away before. Like, say, taking Bagley out of the shop in fear she might influence me.

No, wait. Last time he’d asked.

So, he could be trained.

Well, this was most irritating and unfair.

“Name?” Ian asked, unaware of my desperate attempts at staying mad.

“Pick me up and we’ll drive there. Your SUV is a lot scarier than Bee-Bee.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, as if the thought of me gallivanting around town on my second-hand Vespa terrorized him.

“You want to help or not?” I snapped. I would not stand for this disrespect of Bee-Bee.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

TWENTY-FIVE

True to his word, Ian parked in front of the shop less than half an hour later. I was already waiting outside, sad that I had to close but reassuring myself this was more important—Grandma’s reputation was at stake, after all, not to mention I’d like people to never attack me over a non-existent spellbook again—and jumped into his car almost before he’d completely stopped.

His fingers drummed on the steering wheel, but he didn’t glance my way. Maybe he was scared of what he’d find.

“Where to?”

“Desmond Crane’s house.”

Ian arched his brows, and I basked in the surprise to be found on his face.

“How did you find out?” he asked.

This was where things might get tricky. If I admitted Bagley had told me, he’d be instantly suspicious and lecture me about accepting information from her. On the other hand, he deserved to know if he was going into the situation with me.

“Bagley let it slip.”

His brows dipped into a frown. “That woman never does anything by accident.”

“Maybe I’m finally winning her over to the good side?”

“Unlikely.” He picked up his phone from the console and busied himself sweeping the screen. “What exactly did she say?”

“I asked, uh, one of my customers if he knew about an illegal magic broker.” Ian knew I was supplying fake dark magic to a few people, but he didn’t know exactly who yet, and I didn’t want to reveal Brimstone and Destruction’s identity, even if he might be going around burning up houses for profit. It might get me into trouble if Ian sniffed around, not to mention he was Key’s uncle. “My customer gave me one dark marketplace link to try.” I told him how Bagley had piped in with a comment about Crane while I was browsing the listing.

“It’s likely she’s lying and setting Crane up,” Ian said.

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