Page 15 of Sanctuary

“I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” the merc said. “My name is Wayne Greene. I own Shadow Strike Solutions.”

So awesome. So impressive. I’ve got some shadows for you, buddy. Don’t you worry.

“These are my people. They are all good, solid guys. I run a clean operation. I like to do things above board.”

You don’t say.

“It wouldn’t sit right with me if I didn’t give you this last chance to avoid bloodshed. The optics of this are bothering me. My team is about to take down a lone man and his pets in a single house in the middle of the woods. There is no glory here. They won’t sing songs about this one in Valhalla.”

Ah. A neo-Viking. A lot of mercenaries skewed Norse. The idea of being rewarded and celebrated for their lives of violence appealed to them. Instead of seeing themselves as paid muscle-for-hire, they preferred to envision themselves as wolves and reavers in human skin, seeking glory in the name of a higher calling. When one of them died in battle, instead of dealing with the grim reality of replacing him with the next warm body and sending his family his last check, they would make speeches, drink, and growl about seeing their brother in the mead halls of Valhalla.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Roman asked.

“A man’s home is his castle. You want to protect it. I understand that. In your place, I’d do the same. Nobody likes a pack of random strangers showing up on their doorstep and making demands. That’s why I’m going to make you an offer instead. Before I unleash hell, I must at least try.”

Ah. Personnel management. This wasn’t about him. This was about Wayne looking good in front of his crew. They saw themselves as elite. Attacking a peaceful man in his house and child trafficking didn’t exactly go with the whole glorious warrior shtick. But Wayne had taken the money, and now he was giving himself an out in case any of them grumbled about this incident later.

Oh, it’s such a shame we had to kill that deranged hermit in the woods. Poor guy. I gave him a chance to save himself, I tried to be reasonable, I warned him. If only he had listened to me.

“Let me level with you,” Wayne said.

“Oh, please do.”

“I’m willing to compensate you for the inconvenience. How much will it take to resolve this matter peacefully today?”

“Finn?” Roman called out.

“Yes?” Finn asked from inside the house.

“Are you here of your own free will?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go with these men?”

“No. I don’t.”

Roman stared at Wayne. Seconds ticked by.

“What’s your answer?” Wayne finally said.

“I’m waiting for you to say it out loud. Say ‘how much money will it take for us to buy a child and drag him out of your house?’ Listen to the words as you say them and then explain to me again how you are the good guys here.”

The faces of the two mercenaries behind Wayne told Roman that one had landed.

“It’s not like that,” Wayne said.

“I know your gods. I’ve met Odin.” And what a memorable, super fun meeting that had been. If he never saw another Norse god in his lifetime, it would be too soon. “They do not celebrate slavers in neo-Valhalla.”

That one also landed.

“What you’re really asking,” Roman said, “is the price of my soul. But I can’t sell it to you. It’s already claimed. All the money in the world would not make me give you this kid.”

Wayne heaved a sigh. “I fucking tried.”

“Yes, yes. Do what we both know you were going to do anyway.”

The mercenary leader spun around and jerked the blindfold off the priest’s face. The man stared at Roman with dark eyes. That was a hell of a thousand-yard stare. He didn’t seem to know where he was. The magic inside him had swelled like a raging river straining against a dam.

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