“I ain’t doing this for free.”
Why Eddie assumed the fisherman would be a weathered, wrinkled old man was beyond him. He knew enough about the regeneration qualities of the Cure to know that the aging process and the deterioration of skin and body had been bested. It still seemed odd to be looking into the crystal-bright eyes of a man with flawless, smooth skin when that man made his living from the sea. Santiago, this man was not.
The wind was harsh, the glare of sun coming off the water was intense, and Eddie was more than sure that the whoopsie feeling in his guts was turning his skin gray and green.
“Kid.” The fisherman knocked on the counter that ran alongside him, the sound as hollow and dull as the man’s voice. “You gotta pay me. I ain’t doing this—”
“For free.” Eddie finished t
