I blinked a couple times at that, not sure what he meant. “Bounty?”

Sarge had said something about payment being on a job-by-job basis, but that word hadn’t come into it.

He didn’t take his hand off the table, or off the knives. “The Hollows boys didn’t tell you much, did they? Figures. They like to keep people in the dark as long as they can. It’s a trademark of theirs, as though it gives them the upper hand with their trainees. The truth is it ends up getting their people killed a lot quicker because they do stupid things.”

Unspoken between us, I could almost hear him say, “like going into Factors Row by yourself.”

I wasn’t sure just how much I could trust this guy. I mean, I was reasonably sure that he was a shady fellow and there was some sort of weirdness going on with him and the fish chick, but if he could fill me in on things that Sarge and the others were not telling me . . . then wasn’t it like figuring things out in my own way? Them’s the rules according to the Hollows boys.

“It might be cheating if you tell me.” I smiled. “But if you don’t tattle on me, I won’t tattle on you.”

His lips curved upward. “Just like your gran.”

I raised my teacup, partially saluting him. “I take that as the highest form of compliment.”

He poured himself another cup of tea, throwing a few more cubes of sugar into it. “The Hollows Group takes on odd jobs that are sold to the highest bidder. They specialize in all things weird within the shadow world. That’s pretty much everything. As long as it pays.” He gave me a pointed look and I motioned for him to go on. I’d figured out the weird part all on my own. “You could end up doing a bounty hunt for some supernatural that didn’t pay debts. Or you might be paid to do a recovery—I had them recover one of my weapons that was stolen a couple years back . . . they didn’t like that I wouldn’t give them the full amount when my item was returned broken.”

I didn’t disagree with that thinking. If they broke it, then they shouldn’t get full payment.

He looked at me with a slight frown. “Basically, it could be anything that comes up that someone can afford to pay.”

I frowned. “So almost like a cop for critters?”

Critters was a word in the South used to refer to anything paranormal—ghosts, aliens, monsters, demons. All under one nice little word that didn’t sound so scary.