Shel let out a whistle as Wolfe pulled into the driveway of 111 Greenbow Way—the Grimm family mansion.

Wolfe wasn’t as exuberant. Four extra hours and he was still dragging a bit, more groggy than tired, but still.

A three-story mansion with over fifty rooms greeted them, done mostly in a sort of American suburbia look: white doors, a tiled, slanted roof with lots of arches. But the whole front had an awning over it with about twenty white Greek columns holding the awning up as its most distinguishing feature.

The driveway was blocked by a huge, wrought-iron gate with a tattooed guy in a cheap suit manning a booth. He recognized Wolfe on sight and the gate swung back to admit them. The rest of the driveway was quite long and bracketed by willow trees but eventually hit a huge, circular portion around a giant fountain in front of the mansion.

The mansion had three front entrances, each with its own parking spaces and a collection of marble columns. Wolfe didn’t know where Miriam was at the moment, other than ‘at the mansion,’ and just settled for the left entrance, pulling into the parking stall.

He got out of the car and Shel came after him. He walked up to the front door, past immaculately maintained shrubs and knocked on it hard.

It opened immediately, and Wolfe recognized the tall, wiry-thin guy with prematurely balding red hair who let them in—Liam O’Hattery, one of Big Man Grimm’s house guards.

Liam held the door open as Wolfe entered. “Evening, Wolfe. Who’s the new girl?”

“This is Shel,” Wolfe said absently. “Where’s Miriam at?”

“She’s out back with some friends—finishing up a going-away party.” Liam hesitated for a moment, then sheepishly said, “All her friends are still here.”

Wolfe pulled his phone out. 5:28 p.m. He was supposed to pick her up in two minutes, and she was still delaying.

“All right, I’ll check the veranda,” Wolfe said. “Can you get one of Big Man Grimm’s modified SUVs to the front, please?”

Liam nodded and hurried out the front door.

Wolfe continued into the house, Shel still in tow like a baby duckling. He knew the way—he’d been here numerous times.

He went to the kitchen first on his way out back. As he walked into the giant kitchen, however, a tall woman stepped into his way—early fifties; long, black dress; black hair; and green eyes under furrowed brow. Guinevere, Miriam’s mother.

“Wolfe! About time you showed up. You’re here for my daughter?”

Wolfe restrained himself from rolling his eyes and instead nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Grimm.”

Shel stepped forward and held her hand out. “I’m Shel Lyon, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”

Guinevere ignored her utterly, stepping closer to Wolfe. “You need to make sure she makes it to the airport on time, and safely! I’ll not have her exposed to the violence in the city.”

That’s exactly what Big Man Grimm asked me to do, ya Karen. “Of course, Mrs. Grimm.”

Shel awkwardly let her hand fall.

Guinevere was a good-looking woman, even when she was pointing her finger in Wolfe’s face. “I mean it, Wolfe. If one hair on my daughter’s head is harmed, I swear I’ll execute you myself.”

Sure, you will. Normally, you just threaten me with Big Man Grimm. You must be really worked up if you’re pretending you’d come after me yourself.

Although truthfully, I also don’t want to fuck with her personally because of her deckbearer status. She has a nasty mixed deck with some really odd persistent dot effects, and she’s killed before, even for insults. Rather not tangle with that if I can avoid it. If she’s actually serious about trying to kill me, I wouldn’t say it’s impossible, just as a result of her powerful deck.

He kept his opinions off his face, though. “She’ll be fine, Mrs. Grimm. I promise.”

Guinevere tapped one perfect, red nail against her lip for a second. “Since you are Thad’s best thug, I need you to complete another job for me as well. Actually, no, two. Thad Junior is missing—he hasn’t answered his phone since last night. I’m worried something happened to him.”

Yeah, given what’s been happening with the Cobras, that might be… bad, Wolfe thought to himself again.

“I need you to find him and get him home,” Guinevere said. “He’s my precious boy, but he’s still green, and I worry for him.”

Stolen novel; please report.

He’s an idiot.

A thought occurred to Wolfe. “Have you heard from Damian?”

“No.”

“Want me to look for him?” Although it really might be better for me if he’s dead. Since he’s going to want Cereboo for himself. Still, if I can save him, I will. I certainly owe Big Man Grimm that much.

She flippantly waved her hand at Wolfe. “No, he has his own thugs whom he hired. He’s fine.”

He’s hiring his own thugs?

Wolfe put Damian from his mind. “I’ll make sure I check for Thad Junior after I drop Miriam off, Mrs. Grimm.”

“Make sure you find him and get him home safe. If my boy is hurt—”

Wolfe cut in. “You’ll have Big Man Grimm hang me by my guts.”

Guinevere narrowed her eyes at him and put one hand on her hip. “Are you getting fresh with me?”

‘Getting fresh’? “No, ma’am. Just letting you know I know the score.”

“Hmph. Well, I have a second job. I need you to go handle a problem for one of my associates, a Ms. Greenwall.” Guinevere handed him a piece of paper with an address written on it.

“What problem?” Wolfe asked, putting the address in his pocket.

“Rats,” Guinevere replied.

“Rats?” Wolfe asked. “I’m not a damn exterminator. What do you want me to do?”

Guinevere sneered at him. “We can’t have anyone not in the family working on it. You’ll understand when you get there. Now, be a good dog and make sure you take care of what I want.”

She finally stepped out of his way. “My daughter is in the back. Make sure you keep her safe!”

Wolfe was seething inside, but he nodded again and slipped past her, Shel still following. They went to the near floor-to-ceiling glass windows and pulled the door open. Wolfe could already see his target—Miriam—on the veranda. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the ‘party’ was just Big Man Grimm’s daughter and three other girls having tea and cakes, and not some huge thing. She was probably actually waiting for him.

Although Wolfe also noted the numerous wineglasses on the table. Compared to the usual standards of the Grimm family, underage drinking was practically behavior that would earn you a Divine card. But few things irritated Wolfe more than a drunk eighteen-year-old girl.

They’re obnoxious as fuck and you can’t boink them when they’re wasted, the only thing that normally makes them bearable.

Although maybe it’s just the ones I know. Shel seems great.

Miriam was dressed in a green blouse under a black suit top over black slacks, her face covered in noticeable makeup and silver jewelry about her. The other three girls—a blonde, a brunette, and another girl with black hair—were all dressed similarly. They look more like young professionals at a law firm than either college kids or rich kids—both of which would flatter them more, I think. Whatever she wants, though, as long as she doesn’t make trouble.

Wolfe went outside and walked up to the table, crossing his arms over his chest.

The four girls glanced up at him, and the blonde one turned to Miriam, her voice slightly slurred. “He is good-looking, you were right. He works for your dad and does anything you say?”

Miriam’s eyes caught Wolfe’s and she flushed, but she muttered, “Yeah.”

“Like… anything?” the blonde girl slurred further. “Could you make him, like, do sex stuff?”

Wolfe frowned at Miriam but didn’t intervene.

The blonde one kept going. “Could you make him sleep with another guard?”

Wolfe grit his teeth but uncrossed his arms, leaning forward over the table. “That’s enough of that crap. I’m here for Miriam. Go get your shit.”

Ignoring him, the black-haired one pointed to Shel. “It looks like he already has a partner.”

“Dressed like that?” the brunette asked, pointing at Shel’s stained and slept-in clothing.

“Well, I think it’s his shirt,” black-hair replied.

Shel turned red and said, “We’re not together.”

The four girls all exchanged glances, but Shel’s eyes flickered to Wolfe and she continued, “I offered to be with him, and he turned me down.”

“Oooh…” one of the girls volunteered, and everyone except Miriam giggled.

Wolfe relaxed but still didn’t want to be part of this conversation any longer. “Miriam, go get your damned bags. I’ll be in front of the house, entrance closest to the main driveway out. Don’t make me wait.”

“Bye!” the blonde girl called, drawing the vowel out a bit, probably a result of the alcohol.

Miriam got up from the table. “I’m going to go get my things. I’ll meet you out front.”

Wolfe frowned. Is she repeating what I just said to look cool in front of her friends? “Sounds great.”

Wolfe turned and walked out the door, thinking about all he needed to do. Shel followed him as he went.

I’ve got to get Miriam to the airport for Big Man Grimm. Find Shel’s brother, Kevin, and somehow get him out of the Cobras for her. Then I have to find that idiot Thad Jr. and get him home safe to Momma. Kill another Cobra deckbearer, also on orders of Big Man Grimm, because apparently, the one last night wasn’t enough. Kill some goddamned rats. I want to check out that new dungeon in the pound to get cards before someone else does. Oh, and I need to do it all without letting Damian know I’ve got Cereboo.

What a colossal cockup—where are all the other competent fuckers? Is there really no one else that can handle any of this?

“You all right?” Shel asked as they reached the new vehicle they were going to be taking—a black SUV with the same types of modifications as Wolfe’s own car. Liam tossed him the keys, gave him an over-the-top salute, and headed back to the door he had been at. Okay, at least someone is competent.

Wolfe was honestly tempted to tell her to shut it, but as he stared over the car at her kind, green eyes and soft, innocent face, he was reminded that everything about her made it clear why Raphael had chosen her receive a gifted deck.

She really is far too kind and caring to be a part of our world. I need to find her idiot brother and get her out of here. It’s the one real service I can do the world. Although if I’d been twenty years younger, I might have tried to run with her.

Wolfe exhaled through his nose. “Shel… I’m very busy. That’s what bothers me the most. A ton of dangerous tasks—for you, for Big Man Grimm, his wife, and one of my own making. But I don’t want to burden you with it.”

Shel smiled at Wolfe, her eyes sparkling. “I… I want to be burdened with your concerns. You’re already doing so much for me. The least I can do is listen to your problems.”

Wolfe pulled his cigarette pack out and lit one up. “I’m not really a feelings guy, Shel. Let’s just do the job. Jobs. You know.”

Shel nodded and waited on the opposite side of the car from Wolfe as he smoked.

After a bit, Miriam came out. A guard was with her, carrying two suitcases, and Miriam had a…

“What’s with the gods-damned golf bag?” Wolfe asked.

“I play golf,” Miriam said, tilting her head to the side.

Wolfe tossed his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. “Of course you do.”