Corozal Town, Belize
The final leg of Jack and Marion’s trip had been on a prop plane, and bouncing around in the sky in what felt like a kid’s toy version of a plane wasn’t how Jack liked to travel. But at least they hadn’t encountered any bad weather.
A decent flight, nice ocean views, friendly locals… And yet he couldn’t shake a deep sense of unease. During the brief ride from the small airport outside of town to their hotel, that feeling grew. His discomfort shouldn’t surprise him, what with their client remaining a mystery.
A lot of money may have nudged him into accepting the initial offer, but he’d also expected to have the guy’s name by now. Chris was working on it, using the plane tickets he and Marin had been provided as a starting point, since the email address had been a bust. So far, nothing. He could only hope she’d be in touch soon, preferably before their scheduled meeting this afternoon.
When they arrived at the hotel, Jack let himself forget about the meeting—just for a moment. The hotel was gorgeous. The entire building was a bright white, and as his gaze traveled up, he couldn’t help but admire the contrast of the white building against the brilliantly blue sky. Palm trees dotted the landscape. With the breeze at his back, he felt like he’d stepped into a commercial. Relax. Leave your cares at home. Come to Belize.
Except he wasn’t here on vacation. He’d be meeting with his mysterious client in less than three hours. And while the seaside hotel was beautiful and fresh and clean, they’d also driven through trash-littered streets lined with homes shedding paint and cars that didn’t run. Like every city, Corozal had more than one face.
“Jack,” Marin called out. “Get a move on. I’m not carrying your luggage.”
Jack shook his head at the doorman when the man offered to carry his bag. Maybe he was tired from waking at the crack of dawn, or maybe it had something to do with having not so long ago traveled in the sardine-can version of a plane, but when he walked into the hotel, he felt his vision narrow. For a second, he thought he was going to pass out.
And then he was fine. He turned to Marin, but she didn’t look as if she’d noticed or felt anything unusual. Great. He was in his early forties, and the barely detectable stress of international travel was making him weak in the knees. Bad enough she was stronger, faster, and could produce magical fire; she was also younger than him—sort of. At somewhere over a hundred, she was roughly the human equivalent of a twenty-something. She’d give him hell if she found out he was weak-kneed over a little travel.
Five minutes later, they were checked in and had keys to their suite. He was a few steps behind Marin, climbing the staircase, when he felt the unease from earlier return tenfold. The feeling was so sudden, so intense, that he faltered.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He didn’t know what he expected, but when he turned, he was surprised to find a guy, mid-twenties, about his height, only a foot or so behind him.
“You okay?” Jack’s good Samaritan was dressed in a T-shirt and chino shorts and looked like he’d just come in from the bay.
“Yeah.” And Jack was okay—minus the feeling that time was passing him by at an ever-increasing rate. In other words, he was feeling like an ancient bastard.
Marin turned as Jack spoke and gave him an inscrutable look.
Jack called out, “Hey, thanks, man,” as the guy jogged on past to the top of the stairs.
“What is up with you?” Marin asked.
He didn’t blow her off—because she was right. But he didn’t know what exactly was going on. And it was only when they stood in front of their suite that he said, “I don’t have a clue.”
Jack was glad their mystery client had opted for a suite. As off as he’d been, it wasn’t a terrible idea to have his dragon partner nearby. Badass dragon fighting skills and control of magical fire were huge bonuses, but not helpful if he was dead in his bed several rooms over.
“You’ve been weird since we left. If you weren’t comfortable taking the case, why didn’t you just pass?” She opened the door and scanned the entryway.
Jack walked past her and threw his bag on the nearest bed. “This is more of an apartment than a hotel room.”
Marin passed his bed and walked through an archway to the second sleeping area. “Agreed. Whoever this guy is, he’s not worried about spending a little cash.”
“And that would be the answer to your earlier question.”
“Have you ever thought about selling your house?” Marin asked. “I know you bought it with money from your gran, but if you’re making financial and business decisions based solely on the upkeep and property taxes of your house, it might be wise to take a second look.”
Jack followed her into the second sleeping area.
She fell into the bed. “I only mention it because I’m your partner and directly affected by those decisions.” She spread her arms wide and stretched.
“As if I need reminding. And quit wallowing in that bed. We’re here to work, not vacation.”
Marin bounced up. “Too bad. I bet there’s a fabulous view of the bay.” She disappeared into the back of the suite and then called, “Yes. Fabulous view. Are you sure we can’t be on vacation?”
A knock at the door cut off Jack’s response.