Bay of Sighs (The Guardians Trilogy 2)

“I’ll take care of that part. Where do we pick them up?”

“We need to go out to his boat, so we’ll have to get moving pretty soon. I’ll need you to give me the cash, and some room. This guy doesn’t like crowds.”

“How trustworthy is he?” Bran asked her.

“Well, he’s a smuggler, a gunrunner, and a thief, so he’s slippery. But he won’t screw with me. He’ll keep it straight—wouldn’t want to damage his rep, or lose the sale if we want more ammo.”

“Are these guns stolen?”

Riley shrugged at Sasha. “Don’t ask, don’t tell. We need them, we’ll have them. Or three of them. Sawyer’s the best shot, so I say he gets one. And me, and it should probably be Doyle for the third. Bran’s good, but considering what he can already shoot, a gun’s superfluous. And Sasha’s a decent shot. Doyle’s just better.”

“I’m fine with that, but I should learn how to use it. In case.”

“We can go over all that on the boat, once we have them.”

Though she didn’t like the idea of more guns, Annika said nothing. She did her assigned chores, got her pack for the day, and with the others, walked to the marina.

As they eased out of the slip, Riley pointed. “See that yacht out there? Ten o’clock?”

“Hard to miss,” Doyle answered. “She’s an easy two hundred fifty feet.”

“Yeah, Lester doesn’t go for subtle.”

The smirk lit his gaze as he slid it toward her. “Your smuggler’s named Lester?”

“I used to know a rogue lycan named Sherman. Nice enough guy until he discovered the wonders of cocaine. After that, he really loved ripping out throats three nights a month. Anyway. Just head out, pull up on the port side. I’ll take it from there.” She adjusted her sunglasses, took the bag of cash from Bran.

“Don’t be alarmed if you see a couple of guys with automatic weapons. They’re not going to shoot anybody.”

“Somehow that doesn’t inspire confidence.” And because of it, Sawyer unclipped the holster from the small of his back, reset it on his hip.

“You’re just as likely to see some bimbos sunning French style.”

“For that I need my camera.”

As they approached, Sawyer did see a couple of hard faces with rifles. And though he thought it unfair to assume bimbo, a trio of hot chicks wearing nothing but big sunglasses and tiny, tiny thongs.

“Riley Gwin,” Riley called out. “Lester’s expecting me. And this.” She held up the bag. “Hey, Miguel, ¿qué pasa?”

The burly guy with the AK-47 grinned. “No mucho, chica.”

When they lowered the boarding ladder, Doyle signaled Sawyer. “Take the wheel. I’m going with her.”

“No, you’re not.”

Ignoring her, Doyle stepped over, grabbed the ladder, and started up.

“Damn it. Got a friend with me, Miguel! I’ll need some help getting the stock down the ladder.”

A moment later Doyle boarded, then Riley, and both moved out of sight.

“How long do we give them?” Sawyer kept his eyes on the men with guns.

“Ten minutes,” Bran decided. “Can you read them, fáidh?”

“The one she called Miguel would like to see Annika and me naked. The other one . . . he feels a little unwell. Indigestion, I think.”

“Ten minutes,” Bran said again, “unless Sasha feels a change.”