His job was getting old—and fast. Thorvald supposed it had been a while coming, though. He’d been the handler for a small team of professional assassins for the past fifty or so years, if memory served him right. Maybe Tryg had the right idea thinking about retiring. Of course, he was thinking about doing that because he’d met Isaac, not because he’d had enough of making sure the bad people in the world got what they deserved. Tryg might have said he wasn’t retiring, just pulling back slightly, but Thor wasn’t an idiot. What were the odds that Tryg would be ready to travel hundreds of miles for a job when Isaac was at home waiting for him? Especially with how they’d met and found each other.

Isaac was strong, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d been kidnapped and abused or that someone had tried to have him killed—and that he had killed that man. He needed Tryg, and not just because Tryg knew a lot of supernatural people and they were trying to make Isaac as immortal as Tryg and Thor were.

Thor’s phone pinged. He was glad to stop trying to match up assassins to jobs for a while. Tryg was one of the few who’d ever said no—he didn’t kill people who didn’t deserve it, and in the past few years, Thor had stopped accepting the jobs Tryg would have refused anyway. But some people still tried to convince him to take them, and making that decision always meant a lot of research and poking around in things Thor didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Skype? the text read.

Thor put the phone down and opened the app on his computer. His smile widened when Tryg answered. “Weren’t you on vacation?”

“Shut it,” Tryg grumbled.

Thor laughed. He couldn’t help it. Tryg had wanted to take Isaac to the beach for the first time in Isaac’s life, and he’d done it, which explained why his usually pale skin was bright pink and freckled. “There’s a reason we avoid the sun, you know?”

“I do now.”

“You should have used sunscreen.”

“I did. Wasn’t enough.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Already does. Are you done?”

Thor laughed again and leaned back in his chair. “Sure. Actually, wait.” He leaned forward again and pressed a few keys. “There. I got a screenshot.”

Tryg flipped him the bird. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know, but you love me anyway. How’s Isaac?”

The scowl faded from Tryg’s face, and it was as if it had never been there. “He’s doing great. He still has nightmares, but I expected that. We’re dealing as well as we can, which is fucking good, considering everything. But then, he’s strong. He’s shown that more than once.”

“He still doesn’t want you to retire?”

“He says he doesn’t. He wants me to hunt the monsters, and I kind of want to, you know? I want to protect the Isaacs of this world, but I also don’t want to let him out of my sight. No matter how strong he is, he’s been through hell and back, and that will take time to fade. I don’t want to be in Africa or whatever when he wakes up from a nightmare. Besides, I have to focus on finding someone who can make him immortal. I’m not about to lose him, even if it’s to old age.”

“Right.” Thor knew Tryg had been worried about that. He’d never been one to relax, and he’d lost too many people to be able to let this go. He would not rest until he was sure Isaac wasn’t going anywhere, whatever that entailed. “I’ve been doing some research.”

Tryg leaned forward. “What did you find?”

“There’s talk about mages, witches, that kind of thing.”

“With all the creatures out there, there’s bound to be someone who can do this, right?”

“If there is, I’ll find them. I promise.” Be it the last thing Thor did. He’d never thought either of them would find this kind of happiness, and he would make sure Tryg could keep it.

They weren’t friends. They weren’t brothers. They were something more, something there was no word for because they’d known each other for eight hundred years, and they’d been close every single second of those years.

“I should help you find this person,” Tryg said.

“No, you shouldn’t. I’m better than you with research and computers, and you need to spend time with Isaac. I don’t have anyone waiting for me to come home from work. You do. Besides, you’re retired, yeah?”

Tryg chuckled. “Not yet, although I doubt I’ll be accepting jobs anytime soon. Even if you find someone who can help, Isaac and I will probably have to travel, and like you said, I want to focus on him.”

“Coming to New York?”

“Maybe. We’re going to get used to seeing each other often if I do, though.”

“I don’t see how that could be a bad thing.” Tryg was the only person close to family Thor had, and it was tempting to tell him he wanted to go with him and Isaac when they went looking for the mage.

And why not? It wasn’t like Thor needed to work. He’d been working for hundreds of years. He had enough money saved and enough investments to live for another eight hundred years without working a day. It would be boring, so he couldn’t do that, but he could take a decade or two off and help Tryg and Isaac.

That was—if they wanted him around. It was probably a moot point to ask now, since they had no idea where to start, but Thor wanted to be sure before he started making plans.

He cleared his throat. “You’ll need help once I find you a mage.”