Back in the main room, Sarge stood with his hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of jeans. He’d found a white T-shirt that I was sure was one of Corb’s and a pair of boots to go with the clothes.

He crooked his finger at me. “Let’s go get you stuff.”

Stuff.

Equipment. Right. If only I knew what all I was going to need.

Go with the flow. Don’t freak out. Change is good.

I hurried after him down the stairs, his long legs easily outstripping mine. “Sarge, what is it we do exactly? What am I being trained for, because I’m pretty sure it’s not a new kind of ghost tour?”

He held the door at the bottom of the stairs, and I stepped into the humid air that could only be springtime in Savannah. I drew in a big breath, feeling a rush of fondness for this place I’d loved so much as a kid. The smell of a heck-a-lot of flowers coated the air in sweetness that some people might find cloying. I loved it.

I shook my head. “Sarge? The job, what does it entail? Because the shadow world is a lot more than ghost tours.” How much would he tell me? Did I trust him? The answer to that was not really.

I was not some high-school girl ready to trust a big strapping man with flashy white teeth and pretty eyes. More likely I’d end up kicking him at some point in the day while I enunciated a big word for him just to see if he knew what it meant.

I could be mean like that when cranky and sore.

“Well, it’s kind of like an odd jobs company. We do a little of this, and a little of that. Get paid on a job-to-job basis. That can be good, it can be bad. If you get a good reputation, more jobs will come your way with bigger paydays attached to them. Get a crappy reputation, and not so much.” He pointed at a big motorcycle propped up against the curb. No helmets on it that I could see.

“Safety first, I guess?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

He grunted. “I don’t break if I fall. And the cops won’t bother us. They know me.”

But I would break. I had a moment there on the sidewalk where a rush of panic bit at me, reminding me that I was not twenty. I wasn’t even thirty. I’d been out of this world a long time, and it could be dangerous.

One of Gran’s friends had been a cop back in the day. He’d done a little work with me. Taught me a few things about clearing spaces, guns, basic safety around bad guys. Or, in my case, the shadow world. Officer Jonathan would have a fit if he saw me riding without a helmet.