“Do you have any food?” the girl asked, staring up at Wolfe.

He sighed, glancing at his watch. It was almost noon. After an enjoyable evening with Shel last night, she had asked if her younger sister—the one who had left with Shel’s mother when she’d fled Shel’s abusive father—could come over. Wolfe had said ‘yes,’ and then woken up to Shel telling him that the munchkin was over, and that Shel herself needed to attend her class.

If Wolfe were being honest with himself, only Shel, his doggos, and hunting evil people brought him much happiness, and he wanted to do whatever made his girlfriend happy to return the joy she brought his life.

But he still had absolutely no idea what to do with a random rugrat.

He had been letting Papa TV handle the kid up until this point. Well, Papa TV as well as Cereboo and Malviere—the insanely creepy minion card was currently petting Cereboo in the living room. Cereboo was two hundred pounds of black-furred boxer puppy with three heads, and Malviere appeared as a skeletally thin, ten-year-old with long brown hair, who wore a tattered black dress, with equally black shadows flickering around her.

Not creepy at all.

The ten-year-old Lucy—who studiously ignored his cards—was staring up at him in his own new front room, her green eyes slightly narrowed. The house was larger than the one he had lived in before ‘resigning’ from the Grimm family. The front room was a full living room, with doors to both a hallway in one direction, the back yard in another, and a full kitchen in the third.

His two apricot fluff balls raced around the room, jumping and pawing at legs, trying to get someone to pet or play. The girl—Lucy—absently bent down and scratched one behind the ears, then straightened and pushed the red hair that had fallen in front of her face back behind her ears with her right hand. She kept her left arm down at her side, hiding the missing hand that ended in a stump and two very awkward pseudo-fingers.

Despite Shel’s history, and Wolfe’s own dark life, the hand wasn’t the result of any kind of abuse, according to Shel. Lucy was just unlucky, and the gods had given her a birth defect.

“I would like some food as well,” Malviere said, her voice a combination of high-pitched female child and the reverberations from… elsewhere.

“You don’t even need to eat,” Wolfe growled out.

“I still like to,” Malviere said.

“Do you all want eggs? I make a mean scrambled egg,” Wolfe said.

“You made that for breakfast,” Lucy replied.

“Didn’t you just eat, like, a couple of hours ago?” Wolfe asked.

“I’m a growing child and need to eat regularly,” Lucy said pedantically.

Wolfe sighed and pulled out his phone. “What do you want? Because if it’s not scrambled eggs, it’s gonna be Chef DoorDash.”

“A chicken salad,” Lucy responded. “It’s good for me.”

“You’re a weird kid,” Wolfe replied, trying to find a place that would deliver what she asked, and settling on Applebee’s.

“It’s not nice to call someone ‘weird,’” Lucy replied, flushing and putting her hand behind her back.

Wolfe frowned. This is why I shouldn’t be asked to watch kids.

“I’m not talking about your damn hand, kid, and it wasn’t an insult. I meant it in the sense that you’re, like…” Wolfe waved his hand as he tried to think of the best way to say it, “improbable in a good way. It’s an odd ten-year-old who knows they should eat healthy. But it’s a good thing. Calm your jets, or whatever the kids say nowadays.”

“Oh. Sorry. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“I want eggs,” Malviere said, and Cereboo woofed in what Wolfe knew was agreement.

“You two can have burgers,” Wolfe said.

“I like my meat rare,” Malviere said, licking her lips like a predator, which was extra-creepy on a ten-year-old.

Wolfe finished ordering and directed his attention back to Lucy. “All right, I’m going to go try to clean up the failure that is our back yard. You watch some more TV or play on your phone, okay?”

“Don’t you have anything else to do?” Lucy asked. “I’m bored.”

“You can play with Malviere.”

Lucy looked over at the card that was blatantly radiating dark energy and shuddered. “Do you have anything else?”

“No. I don’t have any kids toys or know a damn thing about them. Plus, Shel will be home soon. She’ll take care of you if you don’t want to hang with Malviere or Cereboo.”

Shel’s tiny twin frowned up at him but said nothing else.

Wolfe walked to the back, opened the sliding glass door, and stepped out onto his small porch. “C’mon, you two,” he called to his cards.

Malviere and Cerberus followed him out into his back yard—which could charitably be described as a ‘work in progress.’ Before Wolfe could shut the door, his two cavapoo pups ran out as well.

Wolfe glanced at his two companion cards, reflecting that they were the absolute backbone of his deck—both made his deck far more effective.

Cereboo

Unique Beast/Infernal[Canine] Companion Effective Tier-7

0 Power

Health: 12

Attack: 5 x3

Magical Attack: 7

Defense: 7

Magical Defense: 4

Special: While in play, Beast and Infernal power may be spent as if they were the other.

Special: Guardian of the Gate: +100% attack and magic attack against other Infernal cards.

Special: Preferred Typing: Gains all the better type matchups of both Infernal and Beast.

Special: One of the ‘Gate to the Underworld’ cards. If all 6 are possessed in the same deck, the bearer will gain 7 Legendary Infernal or Beast card pulls. Additionally, the deckbearer may either gain the Mythic ‘Gate to the Underworld’ Building Card or evolve Cereboo. Each card was given to a member of the Noimoire underworld.

“A pup of Cerberus, who was born into a particularly frisky litter. Cereboo was the runt—not quite as strong, nor as tough, as his litter mates. But his heart was the heart of a huntsman, and the blood of Cerberus runs in his veins. He hunted across the fiery plains of the first infernal realm, chasing the damned who tried to escape their fates. Now, he chases many things, but his soul is still called to chase those who belong in the Infernal Realms.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Malviere, Conduit of Cerberus

Unique, no tier Mortal/Infernal companion[Orphan, Canine]

0 Power

Health: 13

Attack: N/A

Defense: 3

Magical Attack: N/A

Magical Defense: 5

Special: Will fetch normal objects and such with a decent degree of precision and help carry up to ten pounds.

Special: If kept ‘alive’ for five straight years, will gain stats as a Tier-6 equivalent companion card. If ever ‘killed’ or returned to the deck, the timer resets.

Special: So long as she is on the field, all [Canine] creature cards gain +1 to all stats.

Special: Once every 30 seconds, the most powerful Beast card on the field will make a second attack or magical attack, whichever is its highest score.

Special: Is liked by all canines and can command them to do her bidding—including the [Canine] creature cards of other deckbearers, which, if summoned, will switch sides without returning their power.

Note: Malviere’s ‘on the field’ range is 200 feet.

“Malviere cannot remember any life except that of acting as a conduit for the great guardian of the gates of the Infernal, Cerberus. She aides his chosen hunters on the Mortal plane, to bring back those whom Hell has lost. And she gets to play with all the doggos. Good and bad.”

Wolfe sighed and turned his attention from his awesome cards to his less-than-amazing back yard. He looked at it in the afternoon sun of late autumn’s false summer. His back yard was trashed—especially his garden. He had planted about a hundred flowers, and he couldn’t remember what all they were, but only one patch of them bloomed regularly. It was a patch of flowers with a yellow center and thin, red petals sticking out around it. Not the most beautiful flower, but it was still pretty.

He walked over, grabbed the hose where it was attached to the wall, and turned on the water. He unspooled the hose and let the water hit his patchy grass as he walked over to the garden portion of his domain. Malviere ran around the yard, throwing sticks for Cereboo as well as the two apricot fluff balls. She got along better with dogs than people, most of the time, being a ‘Conduit for Cerberus.’

“You’re doing it wrong,” a voice said from the fence.

Wolfe whirled, hand falling to where his Edge would normally have been. He saw an eye—pale blue behind smudged glasses, with wrinkles all around—staring at him through a knot in the wood.

The old bat who lives next door. Lovely.

Wolfe had never met her, but he had seen her, and some dirty-blonde-haired girl he assumed was her granddaughter, from time to time, in their front yard. It was a very nice house, and he wondered who she was that she had been able to keep it when she retired.

His two cavapoos ran to the fence and started barking at the old lady, minutes too late, like Wolfe hadn’t already known she was there.

Wolfe ignored them—and her. He went back to giving his flowers some water. It pooled across the ground, not seeping in quickly.

Maybe he was doing something wrong.

“You should have dug the flower bed up to about eighteen inches of depth and then broken it up before putting it back. It makes it easier for the roots and allows water to get to the flowers without problems,” the lady said.

“What do you want?” Wolfe asked exasperatedly.

“Just to help you. You’re floundering badly, and I feel for the plants.”

Wolfe frowned. “Seriously, you old bat? You’re so lonely that you want to help some random guy garden?”

The eye seemed to crinkle, as if she were smiling. “Like I said, it’s a mercy for the plants.”

Wolfe rolled his eyes, but he also smiled a tiny bit. He preferred people with tough skin and some bite to them.

Not enough to invite some old grandma to his house, but still.

“Look, I can handle this gardening thing. I’ll figure it out. You go back to knitting, or dying in peace—whatever it is that old people do.”

The lady chuckled on the other side of the fence. “So neighborly of you. But suit yourself. I’ll be here when you realize you need help.”

Wolfe grunted, half-amused, half-annoyed. But he kept watering his plants. After a bit, he went and grabbed a three-pronged tool that Shel had and used it to poke holes in the ground so the water could soak in better.

After he’d checked the knot to make sure the old bat wasn’t watching, of course.

Wolfe worked another hour to judge by the sun, give or take—watering, poking holes, and eventually getting their mower. It wasn’t working out in the gym sense of the words, but he enjoyed the physical labor. It relaxed him, helping him to mull over Emmett, the Grimm family, Damian, and his life in general.

He also enjoyed seeing his cards and dogs playing and having fun, even if his two dogs had gotten so muddy, they had moved from apricot to brown.

The sliding glass door opened and Wolfe hunched slightly. He figured that Lucy was gonna bug him again and didn’t want to deal with it.

But it was Shel’s voice that called him. “Wolfe! I brought ice cream!”

Wolfe’s shoulders loosened and he dropped the hose. He wasn’t really an ice cream guy, but he was glad to see Shel.

“Coming!” Wolfe called.

He washed his hands off, then wiped them on a less-dirty portion of his shirt and headed inside. He turned into his kitchen, a modern-looking place done in tiles and gray, with a granite countertop. It had a section to the side with a smaller table and four chairs for eating without going to the dining room. The table and chairs were gray and theoretically fit the room, but somehow always seemed cheaper to Wolfe.

Lucy was already at said table eating ice cream and reading a book. Shel had set three more bowls out. Each was filled with piña colada flavored ice cream, which struck Wolfe as odd, but he set it aside. He went to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and sat at the table.

There were also cold hamburgers, one on a plate on the table, and one on the floor.

“Ah, beer and ice cream, a time-honored tradition,” Shel joked, smiling at him.

“Hey, I just spent an hour working in the hot sun,” Wolfe said. “I’m entitled.”

Malviere sat at the table and began ripping at the burger like she was feral, and Cereboo bit his in half and simply wolfed the first part down with a single gulp of the central head.

Huh, lefty usually gets to eat. I wonder why it was different this time.

Then Cereboo bit the remainder in half and let each cavapoo puppy have one piece of it—they promptly started dragging them around the house.

Wolfe cussed and Shel laughed and went and picked up the pieces of lost burger.

"You should drink water to hydrate yourself,” Lucy supplied without looking up from her book.

Wolfe rolled his eyes.

Shel sat back down and tapped her fingers together, a nervous gesture from their earlier time together that Wolfe hadn’t seen in a while.

Here comes the other shoe, ready to drop.

“Just say it,” Wolfe said, then he took a drink of his beer and grimaced. I really want some good whisky, but it’s too early in the day for that.

“So… I got invited to a barbecue, by one of the other class instructors—not Rhett,” Shel said.

“Good for you,” Wolfe replied.

“They told me I can invite my significant other,” Shel said.

Wolfe put his bottle down, staring at her for a moment, eyes wide.

“You want me to go to a cop barbecue?” Wolfe asked. “You forget who I am?”

“What does that even mean?” Lucy asked, staring back and forth between her sister and Wolfe.

Shel ignored her. “Well… you’re William, and I think you’ll get along with everyone. You have a lot in common with them. Plus, I want to tell everyone what my priorities are.”

“What are they?” Wolfe asked, confused. “And why do I need to be there for you to do that?”

“My priority is you,” Shel said softly.

“Gross,” Lucy muttered.

Malviere chimed in with, “For the pack.”

Wolfe ignored the kid—and his card—and felt his cheeks heating. “Right. Umm… sure, I guess. That’s fine. But if I don’t like it, I’m leaving.”

Shel nodded. “That’s fair. It’s tomorrow afternoon.”

“Great.”

Shel paused as Wolfe took another sip of his beer and then some of the sweet ice cream. It wasn’t the best combination.

Shel was tapping her fingers together again, like the world’s most nervous evil mastermind.

Wolfe raised an eyebrow at her.

“Can I see Emmett with you as well?”

Wolfe was honestly surprised. “Of course. Why couldn’t you?”

She shrugged. “You normally try to keep me out of harm’s way.”

Wolfe snorted. “We’re gonna go see a borderline geriatric guy with a gunshot wound in a hospital. I think harm will be far away from this one.” Then he tipped his beer to Lucy. “’Course, you’ll need to find a sitter for this rugrat.”

“Hey!” she replied indignantly.

Wolfe laughed, and Shel smiled. “I’ll just have Sorenia do it. If an angel of Raphael can’t take care of a child, who can?”

Shel pulled out her own deck and touched one of the softly glowing golden cards. A woman, nearly six feet tall with white hair, dove wings, and an old-timey iron lantern chain strapped to one wrist appeared.

“Thank you for bringing me out, my deckbearer,” Sorenia said, bowing shallowly to Shel.

Sorenia briefly frowned at Malviere, but Cereboo woofed, ran over, and began licking Sorenia with all three heads. Lucy laughed out loud, accidentally spitting ice cream on the table as Sorenia tried to fend three heads off with one hand. Shel’s sister went beet red, cleaned the ice cream up extremely fast, and then went and washed her face.

Sorenia finally managed to calm Cereboo enough to just pet him.

Wolfe glanced at the three companion cards that were all out.

Sorenia

Unique, effective Tier-7 Divine/Light companion

0 Power

Health: 10

Attack: 0

Magical Attack: 9

Defense: 8

Magical Defense: 8

Special: While in play, all Mortal creature cards gain divine typing and +25% (minimum 1) to all stats.

Special: The benefits to Mortal cards stack with the other three named companion lantern angels. If all 4 are possessed the card, Zarachiel, Commander of the Lanterns, a 4-power mythic Tier-8 equivalent divine companion card, will be gained as well as a free companion card slot.

“A particularly zealous and dedicated member of the hundred thousand lantern angels, she tries to guide mortals to right behavior—and victory over the Infernal, Undead, and Elder gods. Through her zealous efforts to make the Mortal world better, she once earned a lesson at Archangel Raphael’s knee, her proudest memory.”

“Yeah, odds are pretty decent she can handle anything while we’re gone,” Wolfe said.