Twenty-Three
In the back room of the Brimfield Tavern, Marcus Callaghan nursed his beer, back to the wall and eyes on the door. He put his drink down when a young man with white hair and a bruise around one eye stepped inside. He spotted Marcus and walked to his table. He sat with a groan, rubbing his ribs.
Marcus tossed a fat envelope across the table toward him. ‘You did good.’
Cole Dillon flicked through the envelope’s contents, a wide smile creasing his full lips. ‘I would have been happy to pick a fight with the freaking half-breeds for free. Sticking it to the wardens didn’t suck either.’
‘Nevertheless, I appreciate what you did for me, drawing the wardens out of their headquarters. You worked hard for your money.’ Marcus pointed at Cole’s black eye.
‘What’s next? This is only t
