“Right, but about Eammon, how did that happen?”

I took another bite and grabbed a fork. Cold eggs were a no-go for me, so I needed to get on them before they cooled.

“Eammon came by to talk to Corb. Eammon took an immediate interest in me. I thought he was just being an old flirt. Corb left the room to get some paperwork, and Eammon said he wanted to talk to me about a job, but that Corb wouldn’t like it if I talked to him. He suggested we meet at Vic’s Restaurant. Nice place that, good food, and I wasn’t going to pass up a free meal.”

I took another bite, swallowing the still-hot eggs quickly. “So, we met there, and we chatted a bit about the Irish down here. Our families. Then he said he’d overheard me talking about a job that wasn’t going to pay well, that I needed more money.” I shoveled in a couple more bites, savoring the spices he’d put on the eggs. He was a good cook, even if it was simple fare. I wouldn’t kick him out of the kitchen. Or bed.

“What did he tell you, though?” Sarge leaned forward.

“About the job?” I laid my utensils down. “That it was hard, possibly dangerous, and dealt a great deal with the mythology and superstitions of the area. I made an assumption that it was a new kind of tour, considering we were starting at the graveyard. Even if the money seemed stupidly high for a tourism job.” Though, I’d put that aside quickly once I realized Robert was a real skeleton.

Sarge frowned, and even that looked nice on his face. “But why’d you take it all in stride? The others freaked out, just like people always freak out as they start seeing things that their minds say aren’t supposed to be real. I think you might be the first person who didn’t lose their marbles even a little.”

That wasn’t entirely true; I’d almost lost it with Robert at the beginning. And I hadn’t much liked facing down a ravening wolf, although it didn’t seem polite to say so to his face.

I picked up the toast and took a bite. “I grew up here, with my gran. My parents died when I was young.” I felt like that should explain it all. I wasn’t about to tell him how they’d died. That was not something I wanted to remember.

Sarge made a go-on gesture with one hand. I sighed. “When I was little, she’d take me around town and point things out. And . . . I could see them.” I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d ended up in a psych ward for “seeing the bogeyman” and Gran spelling me so I was unable to see the shadow world anymore.

“See them?” His eyebrows were high.

“Don’t you get all judgy on me, man who is also a wolf. Half-man.” I all but spat the words at him around a mouthful of toast. “Also, do you know where the ibuprofen is? I’m hurting after last night.”