Chapter Forty-One – Kris Cole

 

“You got him?”

“Yeah,” Ryder said on the other end of the line, all the way up in Shamrock. When Carter had hung up on Tabitha, she’d realized he was going off the reservation. The witch had chartered a jet with a pilot, for a damn hefty sum, and gotten them there yesterday.

Kris wished, mildly, that she would have just used a broom. Especially when she heard the number on the bill.

“How is he?” Kris asked as she leaned back against the outside wall of a storage unit. Across from her, just inside Harrington’s unit, Hunter was busy going through all the clues they’d found. It was late, approaching midnight, and they’d only left to get some cheap burgers. Shadows fell over everything, and she stood beneath one of the only lights on the drive.

“Not great, to be honest. But Carter’s tough. We got a few pints of blood in him, got him as stabilized as we could before we got him here. Luckily, we knew they’d be going at him with silver, so we came prepared.”

“Still can’t believe you even found him,” she breathed.

“Well, if Tabitha hadn’t seen the phoenix fly off from that site while we were leaving the airport, and nearly run me off the road while she leaned across me, we probably wouldn’t have. Brother Bear was almost a goner.”

“When he wakes up, tell him to call me.”

“Kris, he ain’t waking up for a while. And, even after he does, he’s going to be down for a bit. Couple months, at least, even with our healing time.”

“Then wait until he does. Fire inspection makes up a good chunk of our business offers, Ryder, and he’s the only person I’ve got. I already have to turn enough of it down, as it is.”

“Business offers?” Ryder asked, disgust in his voice. “Really? Is that what you’re fucking thinking about right now?”

She sighed. She knew it sounded crass, but Full Moon was finally in a good financial situation for the first time since before she could remember. Even with Harrington at the helm, things had been touch and go. Up until a few months ago, they’d been even worse. Yes, she had to think of her individual agents. They were practically her family.

But even families had to make tough decisions. Especially when it came to finances. And times of medical crises were no different. If anything, they were worse.

“Nothing?” Ryder spat. “That’s all you’ve got, then?”

Kris groaned. “Ryder, look, I’m not trying to be the asshole here, but someone has to be.” She paused. “Wait. Didn’t you say you think he and the fire inspector are dating?”

“Yeah,” Ryder asked, more than said. “I think so. Kind of the vibe I’m getting, at least. He got out of surgery a little while ago, and she hasn’t left his side since. Don’t think she’s just an acquaintance.”

Kris nodded. She had an idea. “Okay. Tell Carter to get better. I think I can fix this, and maybe we’ll all come out better for it by the end.”

“Uh…sure. I’ll send an update soon, Kris.”

She took the phone away from her ear and hung up, put it away in her back pocket, and stuffed her hands back in her coat. Yeah, she could fix this. There was no doubt in her mind about Carter’s loyalty to the agency, or their cause. He’d be back in the fight as soon as he was able.

Now, if Ms. Skinner moved down here to join him, Full Moon might be able to use the help.

“Excuse me? Ma’am?”

Kris nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t even heard the man coming down the little storage-unit-lined drive, piece of paper in one hand, flashlight in the other.

“I’m closing up for the night, and I’m gonna need y’all to leave. Is that your storage unit over there?”

She bit her lower lip, tried to decide what to say. She could lie, but he’d find out. Maybe call the cops, maybe change the locks. Then she’d be stuck figuring out how to get the material away from the unit in a limited amount of time. Something she knew she wouldn’t be able to do. From the stacks and stacks and, goddamn, stacks of books and information piled up, Harrington had been amassing this research material for years. And, just their luck, all of her former mentor’s notes were in his shorthand cipher. A code he’d never taught her.

And, unfortunately, they’d only had a few short hours to work on deciphering it all.

But, if she told the truth, they’d have another set of problems. They’d still lose the materials.

She frowned. The lie, at least, might give her and Hunter a chance to make a break for it.

“Yes,” she said, her voice confident as she looked the man right in the eye. “Name’s Kris Cole. Is that my agreement right there?”

He glanced down at the paper in his hand, brought it up and shined his light on it.

“Oh? Well, Miss Cole, I really do need y’all to get moving for the night. We open at five in the morning, and you’re more than welcome to come back then if you need to keep moving.”

“Excuse me?” Kris asked, eyebrow raised. That wasn’t exactly the response she’d expected. No, she’d figured she’d have to manufacture some sort of controversy with the man about how her name was supposed to be on there, and her husband this, her husband that. “My name’s on there?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Should it not be?”

Kris stepped closer. “Mind if I look at that?”

“Be my guest. Your agreement, after all.”

She took the paper from him, read over it with ease despite the low light. Being a dragon had its advantages, after all. And there was her name, in printed caps, right across the top of the agreement. With all of her mailing and address information. But, down at the bottom, was a signature that was clearly not hers. Instead, it was one that looked suspiciously similar to the one that used to sign her paychecks. And the one that adorned thousands of pages of indecipherable notes within the storage unit just a dozen feet away.

“Looks right, right?” the man asked.

“Yes,” she said, handing it back to him. “Why wouldn’t it? It’s my agreement, after all.”

He chuckled. “Well, good. Now that we’ve got that sorted, I’m still gonna need you two to call it a night. Might be able to work some late-night thing out with the owners with some security deposit arrangement, but that’s more than I can do.”

“Sure,” she said, nodding. “I’ll call them in the morning.”

“Have a good night, ma’am,” he said, then was turning and heading back down the drive, the little pool at the end of his flashlight’s beam bobbing and weaving as he strode back to his office.

Kris stood there, arms crossed over her chest, watching him go.

“Harrington, you son of a bitch,” she whispered to no one, before turning to get Hunter. “Son. Of. A. Bitch.”