Page 24 of Echoes and Oaths
Jinx was quiet for a long beat, the tension winding tight between them.
“If she doesn’t know about it,” he finally said, “what can she do?”
Raven arched a brow. “And if you’re not here to protect her, and somebody decides to mess with her?”
Jinx smiled then, slow and lethal, turning his head just enough to look at her. “You’ll be there.”
Raven blinked, her lips parting. “Say what now?”
“You’re going to stay with Eira,” Jinx said, his voice brooking no argument. “At the ranch.”
“And how’s that supposed to help you find and kill both the Ghost and Ortega?” Raven asked, folding her arms across her chest as she shot him a skeptical look.
Brando’s voice crackled through the comms, his dry chuckle slipping through the system. “It’ll allow him to focus.”
Jinx gave a short nod, not bothering to add more. Brando had hit the mark.
He guided the truck down the winding dirt road, weaving past sleeping goats curled alongside the road and stray dogs slinking through the shadows. The faint glow of lanterns from the small village ahead shimmered like stars trapped between the trees.
They drove in silence until he pulled the LandCruiser into a thicket on the edge of the village, camouflaging it behind the deserted wreck of a house. The humid night pressed down on them, sticky and thick, the scent of earth heavy in the air.
Together, they made their way on foot through the maze of twisted trees and brush. They stopped at the small cinderblock house Jinx had used while he was in country during his mission. Its faded stucco walls blended into the darkness.
“I’ll wait outside,” Jinx said quietly when they reached the door. “You can bathe.”
Without waiting for her answer, he slid down the rough exterior wall and dropped to sit on the hard-packed ground. His legs stretched out in front of him, arms resting on his knees as he stared at the moonlit street.
Too much rattled around in his head. Eira, Teo, Ortega, the Ghost, what he’d told Eira and why, plus the emotion of seeing her and his baby. Raven’s relentless questions wouldn’t let him sort through it all. He needed quiet and space.
Raven lingered in the doorway, watching him like she wanted to say more. Finally, she nodded once.
“I’ll take care of your woman and child,” she saidquietly. “If you need me, I’ll do it. But this probably isn’t the best use of my talents.”
Jinx’s gaze flicked up to her, the corner of his mouth twitching in something close to a smile.
“But it’ll allow me to make the best use of mine,” he replied. His voice dropped lower, edged with something fierce. “Keep her safe, Raven. That’s all I ask.”
She inclined her head, something almost soft flashing across her face. “When will you introduce us?” she asked.
Jinx exhaled heavily, his eyes drifting back to the empty field. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “I need to formulate a plan.”
Raven leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms as she watched him in the moon's dim light. “When you do, run it past me first,” she said. “Before you take it to the big dogs. You’re too close to this, emotionally involved. We don’t want them questioning our methods … or the mission.”
A muscle ticked in Jinx’s jaw, but he nodded. “Thank you for watching out for me.”
Raven nudged his boot with the toe of her shoe. “It’s what we do. Whatever it takes.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, the first realsound of humor he’d made all night. “As long as it takes,” he echoed.
Raven slipped inside the house, the soft creak of the door closing behind her and echoing in the stillness. Jinx drew a long breath, letting his head tip back against the rough wall as he tried to untangle the emotions coiling like barbed wire in his gut.
The humid night wrapped around him, heavy and close, filled with the distant hum of insects and the faintest pulse of music drifting from somewhere deep within the village. The sharp scent of earth, sweat, and smoke clung to the air.
A faint rustle in the tall grasses nearby snapped his attention back to the present. His muscles tensed instantly, every sense sharpening as he focused on the sound. There it was again. A soft, hesitant shuffle.
From the shadows, a small, thin dog emerged. Its body was gaunt, ribs visible beneath a patchy coat, tail wagging low and tentative. The animal crept toward him, belly nearly brushing the ground, posture submissive but hopeful.
Jinx’s hand lifted slowly, palm open and still. The dog hesitated, then crawled closer, inch by inch, until it reached him. It sniffed his fingers, nosequivering, before inching forward to press against his thigh.
