“Don’t judge me. I’m a growing boy,” I told Frankie as we took a seat in our favorite burger joint, Matty Too Fatty’s.
“I didn’t say anything,” Frankie answered with a laugh. “That’s your own guilt speaking.”
Ugh, that laugh! Her laugh got me every time. I’d do anything to hear it.
“I’ve been working out harder. This is a cheat meal, right?” I pressed, looking for another eye roll of hers. I got one.
“You tell yourself whatever you need to tell yourself, but some may say that four patties with cheese, a large Fatty fry and their vanilla death shake may be a tad much,” Frankie said, opening the palms on both of her hands. “It’s not exactly a cheat meal; it’s more like a cheat buffet.”
I sat in the red cushioned seat at our booth with a sigh, just happy to be here with her. It was a time when things couldn’t be better. The business was running like a well-oiled machine, thanks to Teri. Shannon and Deacon were concentrating on running the school, and Frankie and I—well let’s just say I had a toothbrush at her place now.
Light chatter crossed over the white tile. Bright lights added to the midday sun coming through the windows.
“You look happy,” Frankie said, leaning onto the table across from me. “Is that because you have your food coming?”
“That, and I’m just happy to be here with you,” I told her. “I—”
A pair of men walked in that didn’t seem like they belonged. Listen, I’m the last one to be throwing shade on anyone for their appearance, but these guys looked like they walked straight off a scene from the Godfather. I’m talking gold chains, tailored suits, and slicked-back hair.
They scanned the room, and we made eye contact. It was not love at first sight. However, a look of recognition crossed their faces when they saw me, and they headed over.
“Heads up,” I warned Frankie. “Donnie Brasco extras at my three o’clock.”
Frankie was a true pro. Casually, she glanced over at the same time, sliding her right hand off the table top and into her waist band where she carried her sidearm.
I didn’t make a move for Blood Rage, not yet. The hammer from heaven was in its tomahawk form right now at the small of my back in a special carrier. If I needed it, it was there, but there were civilians around. A mother and her two small children at a table by the far wall. Behind me, an older couple near the bathrooms.
“John Hunter?” one of the men asked. He was wider than the other with a crooked nose. It was then I sensed he was something more than human. It was a feeling more than anything else that came with being around the supernatural for as long as I had.
“Are you going to serve me court papers?” I asked, feeling a spike of adrenaline hit my system and the fight or flight response kick in. “Did I win something?”
“Look at this funny guy,” the other man said in a thick Italian accent. “Look at this bum. I didn’t know he was a comedian too.”
“Listen, we’re trying to keep things respectful and just do business,” the first guy said. “My name’s Tony, and this is Donnie. Donnie, say hello.”
“Hello,” Donnie said with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes.
“What is it that you want?” Frankie asked, her right hand under the table. I was sure it rested on the handle of her Combat Master.
“I truly am sorry for the intrusion of your lovely, albeit heart-clogging meal; however, this cannot be helped. You see, our boss wants to see you. Your debt is being called in,” Tony said, as if that was going to answer all the questions I had. “A debt that you and one Mister Mallory Muffin brought upon yourselves when he saved you from a certain vampiric attack.”
“Number eighty-nine!” a worker called from the front. “Number eighty-nine?!”
That was my number.
I almost got up to go get my food. Did I tell you I was starving? I had been waiting all day for this meal. Even had a light breakfast and did some stretching beforehand to prepare for it.
“Okay, okay,” I told the men. “I see what’s happening here. Yes, a few years ago, I was treated by the Muffin Man. But that’s history. We don’t work with him. Whatever issue you have with the good doctor, you need to take up with him. Now I have a date with some carbs that I just can’t miss. If you’ll excuse me…”
I moved to stand up. Donnie put a hand on my right shoulder and shoved me down. It was then my suspicions were confirmed this was no ordinary human. The cold, hard strength he carried in one hand was enough to tell me he was something else.
Frankie didn’t like that. She gently removed the weapon from her belt and placed it on the table, as calm as death itself. Handle firm in her grip, trigger finger practicing discipline, she was a quick twitch away from planting bullets in their bellies.
Tony and Donnie bared their teeth at her.
“Hey, hey, we know something’s gone horribly wrong when I’m the voice of reason, am I right?” I asked, trying to calm everyone. I extended my arms. “Come on, there are just regular people in here that don’t need the supernatural crashing down on them, not to mention the Court and SOAP and everything that comes with it.”
“Number eighty-nine?” the worker at the counter called again. “Is there a number eighty- nine here?”
“Coming!” I called out. “I’m coming. Don’t give away my food!”
At the mention of the Court and SOAP, both sides seemed to cool down a bit. Frankie withdrew her weapon under the table.
“It is not in our best interest to draw attention to the family either,” Tony said with a shrug. He placed both hands, one on top of the other, in front of him. “We take a short drive for you to meet the boss, and he’ll explain it all. A simple chat is all we’re asking.”
For some reason, I didn’t believe it was going to be that easy, and I was an optimist. I looked over the table at Frankie. I could tell she was doing the math in her head. Neither of us wanted to draw blood here. There were just too many people. Outside. If this had to come to violence, then at least outside in the parking lot we’d have a better chance.
She nodded in my direction.
“All right,” I told the men. “All right, we’ll go with you and hear you out. But I need more of an explanation first.”
I stood, and this time, Donnie allowed me. His shiny black dress shoes retreated across the white tile to let me by. Together, the four of us headed for the door.
My heart tore in my chest. There on the counter was my meal. All four juicy patties calling for me. I could taste the salt on the fries, the sugar rush of the shake.
“Jonny,” Frankie warned.
“Maybe, maybe I can just take it to go,” I said longingly.
We exited the building to a half-filled parking lot. For the moment, it was empty of any travelers searching for their next meal.
A blacked-out Cadillac sat in a parking stall four cars down. I could guess that was where we were headed. The license plate said WFAMILY.
“All right, I came with you this far,” I said, stopping halfway to the Cadillac. “I’m telling you I think you got the wrong guy.”
“The wolf brand you were healed with,” Tony said, not to be deterred. “The one here on your chest.”
Tony reached over and pulled my collar down to reveal the brand.
“Hey,” I said, shrugging him off. “Personal space. No means no.”
Tony went on. “That crest belongs to the family. That brand that saved you comes with a favor owed. Now the boss is calling in that favor.”
“And what if we say we don’t owe you any favors?” Frankie asked with a shrug. “What if I just decide to rip off your head, and the head of your friend right here, and we go back inside and eat?”
The cold, unfeeling way Frankie laid out this possible future gave me chills. Mostly because I knew she was capable of exactly what she said. She scared me sometimes.
Tony looked her up and down. “Try it.”
“Listen, guys, you don’t want to do this,” I told the two men.
“Trying to save your little girlfriend here?” Donnie asked, stepping up to Frankie.
“I’m trying to save you guys from her,” I told them. “This goes down right here, right now, we all lose. I don’t want to have to do all the paperwork when SOA—”
Donnie was the first to choose violence. While I was talking, he stepped up to Frankie, looked her in the eyes and poked her chest with a thick finger. “You think you’re so tou—”
Frankie stepped back and front-kicked Donnie in the chest so hard, his feet left the pavement. Her black boot hit him in his sternum with so much force, I heard the actual wind get knocked out of him.
Donnie flew backward, colliding with the blacked-out Cadillac, his back and the rear of his head making an indentation in the fender.
I looked over at Tony with a shrug. “Here we go.”
Tony and I met, trading blows in the parking lot like a pair of MMA fighters hearing the bell ring. He was fast, each of his blows striking with all the velocity of a baseball bat. One hundred percent he was something more than human. What, I wasn’t sure yet, but there was no denying his supernatural abilities.
Your boy was no slouch himself. I had years of training at this point. I had learned to control my own abilities as a hybrid over countless altercations and—humble brag here—I had gotten really good at fighting.
I blocked a right hook he had coming for the side of my head and then side-stepped a left straight. I stepped out of the way as he lunged at me, trying to grab me around the waist.
I hammered him across the face with a right, left, right combination that left him stunned.
The time he took to recover afforded me a chance to check in on Frankie.
She had Donnie in a headlock, squeezing the life out of him.
I was about to move in on Tony again, and it would have been lights out for him, when the rear door of the Cadillac opened. Out stepped a woman dressed in black. In her right hand she carried a sidearm. I was less interested in this than who came with her.
In her left hand, she dragged out someone I thought was dead. Our resident gynecologist, one Doctor Mallory Muffin. The last time I saw him he had been turned to stone after an attack from Medusa. But here he was now, flesh and bones, balding, with glasses and a smart suit. His eyes were alive with panic and fear as the woman dragged him out.
“Enough,” the woman called out in a tone with a touch of an Italian accent. She placed the barrel of her weapon to Mallory’s skull. “Enough of the play fighting, or I whack him right here, and his blood is on your hands.” ...
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2026 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
