Two weeks later
Jack was thrilled to be back at The Junk Shop. So thrilled that he’d even started to clean and catalogue some of the new acquisitions, a task he usually left to Marin.
One of the beautiful things about employees and junior partners, he could delegate to them. But he was now down an employee and up a junior partner, so maybe it was time to consider adding to the staff.
“I’m assuming your back is doing well today, given the smirk you have plastered on your face.” Marin sauntered into the shop exactly fifteen minutes late, a recent trend. About two days out of the week she came in late, just to prove she could.
Jack set aside the stack of books he’d been examining and leaned on the counter, not something he’d been able to do after the first few treatments he’d received. “Didn’t your boyfriend tell you?”
Harry the healer was a whiz, truly an exceptional healer. And a stellar guy. Everyone liked Harry…well, except maybe Harry’s uncle, but there was some deep history there. Besides, Harrington was an ass, so if he wasn’t particularly fond of his nephew that was all the more evidence of how cool Harry was.
“So, we’re not talking about your relationship?” Jack asked. “I seem to recall that you were the one to bring it up originally.”
“I’m fine to discuss Harry—sorry, I’m just distracted.”
“It’s the letter, isn’t it?” Jack had been the one to find it. Supposedly from her father, telling her that he was fine for now and not to come looking for him. He also asked her to pass along a message to Lachlan. What the message had been, he didn’t know—but the search for her dad had been called off and Marin had rejoined him in Belize. Not that she’d been concerned about him. She’d just grabbed the opportunity to vacation with her new squeeze.
Jack wouldn’t have been so comfortable, not until he’d laid eyes on the previously missing man and seen that he was safe. But dragons were an odd bunch.
“No, not the letter. I’ve been thinking about the crypt's ward. Remember I told you they’d used more than one death, at least two, Harry says, to keep the ward charged for so long.”
“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t talk to Harry about it. I was busy lying in bed all day while you guys gallivanted around Belize.”
Marin shot him an annoyed look. “Please. You know humans need more healing sessions and more time in between them than magic-users. What were we supposed to do? Throw away a perfectly good vacation opportunity and keep you company in your room.” She shuddered. “Never gonna happen. You’re the crankiest sick person ever.”
“So what’s the dilemma?”
“Harry might not make a fuss about his spell-caster abilities, but he’s easily as talented with wards as he is healing.” She bit her lip. “He didn’t entirely understand how the aswang got out. He said that the ward should have been even stronger than it was. I was also thinking…Nate had to be in the aswang version of hibernation. How did he break out?”
“Are you worried about a repeat of events?” Jack’s back twinged with remembered pain. No Nate ever again would be fabulous. A dead Nate would be even better—but no one had quite sorted out that particular detail.
Shaking her head, she said, “No, it’s just…” She pursed her lips. “How did it all come about?”
“I don’t know, and while I wouldn’t go so far as to say I don’t care…I kinda don’t care, so long as leather-butt stays put. But forget about Nate, did you ask Harry if he might want to work with us? If an appropriate case comes up.”
“He has his own responsibilities, Jack.”
And while they bickered over the merits of having Harry join the team (of which there were many) and the disadvantages (of which there were very, very few), Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d shrugged off a very important question.
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