As the door opened, Wolfe turned, expecting to give Pete and Harry a piece of his mind, and possibly an ass-kicking. He hadn’t had to punk one of his own in years, but three times not being listened to really was too much if he wanted to keep his reputation.

His angry words caught in his throat as he stared at the man entering. Damian Grimm. What’s he doing here? He was just at the party with his dad!

Damian’s lack of height was even more obvious when he was walking, his five-foot-nothing frame’s pudge causing him to waddle a bit. Wolfe had a bit of disdain for Damian since he couldn’t personally fight. Wolfe was pretty sure that was why he was always obsessed with cards—to make up for his lack. But Wolfe schooled his features into neutrality. He thought again about how this evil dwarf might be his boss someday.

As Damian approached, Wolfe shifted uneasily. Damian was also dark as hell, and he worried Wolfe in a way most people didn’t. Shel must not have known who he was, as she didn’t react much.

Pete and Harry trailed in behind him, but Wolfe barely paid attention to them, because of the other being that trailed Damian.

Flying behind the dwarf was an imp, about two feet tall. It was red skinned, and appeared as an emaciated man with bat wings wearing only a loincloth over what was an obviously comically sized tool.

As Wolfe stared, a card hovered into existence over the creature’s head.

Victoran (Unique, effective Tier-6)

0 power

A very well-connected Imp.

Infernal

Companion

Attack

1

Magical Attack

8

Defense

4

Magical Defense

8

Health

5

Special: Companion.

Special: While in play, adds 1 to Infernal Power

Special: While in play, an infernal creature will be drawn every card pull as an additional card in hand so long as one remains in the deckbearer’s deck.

A companion card? That must have come with his new god-gifted cards.

It seems a bit weaker overall then Cereboo. Although I think the specials are better—but it would be easy to knock from a fight, which nullifies all the benefits. Really easy. I wonder if it’s weaker because it’s not also a ‘gate to hell’ card?

Damian waddled up, interrupting his thoughts. “What happened to your shoulder, Ethan?”

Wolfe tried to hide his grimace. His full name was Ethan Madison Wolfe the II, and he hated it. It sounded effeminate to him, unlike the ultra-masculine ‘Wolfe’ last name the street used.

Damian used Wolfe’s first name to create a closeness between them, but secretly, it grated.

Plus, Wolfe was named for his dad, and he really hated that.

“I had a dustup with the Cobras. Three of their worthless street thugs and some baby deckbearer dead, and my suit ruined. So about fifty-fifty I’d say.”

Pete and Harry laughed obligingly at his joke, but Damian’s eyes lit up. “You got his cards?”

“Yeah,” Wolfe said, and patted his suit over the inside pocket he had placed them in.

Damian held his hand out and made a ‘come hither’ motion. “Give them to me.”

Wolfe paused for a moment. “Your dad said I could have the cards of the next deckbearer I killed.”

“Hmm… let me talk to you about that privately in a moment. For now… did she talk, Ethan?”

The imp cackled and buzzed around Wolfe’s head.

Wolfe studiously ignored the imp companion and his thoughts both. “She did. I have everything.”

“Did she talk to the cops?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why haven’t you killed her?” Damian asked. Then his eyes roamed over her bedraggled but still beautiful body with undisguised, almost feverish, lust. “Actually, nevermind. I’ll take her. She can serve some last purpose before we dispose of her.”

Victoran the imp gave a lascivious cackle and flew over to Shel, leaving Wolfe alone.

Shel’s head came up at that, her eyes wide as she stared at the ugly little man and his imp. She began to tremble.

A decent death for someone who got involved voluntarily I could stomach, but this… Everyone knows Damian has some extremely dark tastes. Even the girls he pays for leave after a night half the time, and never last more than a few weeks. “Actually, sir, I was going to try to use her.”

“Use her?” Damian asked, glancing at Wolfe. Everyone also knew that Wolfe followed Big Man Grimm’s code to keep it just business. Until Damian, the whole family had been run that way, but now… Wolfe put it aside.

“I mean, as a counter-mole. If she has contacts within the police, we can get her to drop evidence on our enemies. Use her to keep the Cobras in check.”

Wolfe was making it up as he went along and hating himself for sticking his neck out. But the idea of some angel girl spending her last days as Damian’s plaything really bugged him.

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He also knew someone experienced wouldn’t go for his half-ass proposal. Keeping someone around with connections to the cops was a way to get in serious trouble fast. But Damian was young, and very determined to prove himself. Drive and a lack of experience might be enough for him to go for it…

Damian had a different issue, though. “Even though she has cards? That’s worth a decent amount.”

“Angel cards—they’re of no use to you or your family. I know you could sell them, but the chance she got anything amazing in a starter deck is almost nothin’.”

Although, if you can take companion cards from someone and she got one… that would probably sell for millions. Wolfe hoped Damian wouldn’t think about that.

Damian nodded. “That’s true… and it’s close to the real reason I’m here. All right, I’ll approve it, as a favor to you.”

He gave Wolfe a smug smile.

Only Big Man Grimm can approve something like this, and he’ll give me a lot of shit. But Damian’s approval gives me some cover and an argument. The big guy wants his son to have a chance to learn a few lessons—possibly even the hard way.

Damian dismissively waved away the girl, who had stopped shaking and was watching Wolfe with a contemplative expression now.

Damian took Wolfe by the shoulder and steered him toward the back of the warehouse. “But I need to talk to you about something else, something important. Follow me. Victoran, stay here and watch the deckbearer. Kill her if you see any cards.”

Victoran gave an upward jut of his chin and landed on the girl’s arm, his claws inches from her face. She shuddered at his touch, but the imp just sat there.

Damian waddled deeper into the darkness of the warehouse. Wolfe followed slowly. When he reached Damian, the ugly dwarf stepped in a bit closer to him. “I need your help, Ethan. Not for family business, but for me.”

It was Wolfe’s turn to hesitate, but he finally said, as diplomatically as he could, “My first loyalty is always to the Grimm family.”

Damian rubbed his hands together. “I know. You’re a loyal dog, Ethan, and I appreciate that. Don’t worry—like I said, this has nothing to do with the family business. When the new set dropped, I got a deck—even though I already had one. You saw. Ten new cards.”

“Congratulations.”

“Mostly shit cards, don’t get too excited.” Damian huffed. “But two were special cards. One in particular though… It claims, on the card, that it’s one of six special infernal cards that all appeared to infernal tribal deckbearers here in Noimore. If one person collects all six, they’ll unlock powerful and rare demon cards, very high tier and high power cost both. I need those cards, Ethan. You have to help me get them.”

Wolfe’s blood chilled.

One of the six cards, his companion Cereboo, with its promise written on it clear as day, was in his own deck. He didn’t want to give up his companion card—it was quite powerful, especially against other infernal cards, which were common among the deckbearers of the Noimore underworld… and he liked his new dog, frankly.

“Of course, Damian,” Wolfe managed to choke out, deeply glad Damian didn’t know his cards. Wolfe needed to talk to Big Man Grimm before he did anything else.

“So… are any of the ten new cards you got, or the cards from the deckbearer you killed, one of the special cards?” Damian asked.

Wolfe lied immediately—he could try and claim misunderstanding later, but didn’t want the complication now. “None of mine.”

“And the ones you took?”

Wolfe didn’t actually know, but decided to risk it—nothing the deckbearer had pulled had seemed spectacular. He took the ten cards from his suit pocket and spread them out for Damian to see.

Damian briefly glanced at the cards. “Shit, these are the worst cards ever. Literally nothing but tier-one, one and two power Infernal cards, all common except for advanced imp cards. Trash. They’re all yours, Wolfe.”

So kind and generous, Wolfe thought behind his bland face.

“Things are going to be changing,” Damian said, staring back at his companion. “I need people loyal to me. Don’t disappoint me, okay?”

“Of course not,” Wolfe said, his mind still on his special card. Fuck me.

Damian faced him again, his off-set eyes boring into Wolfe’s face. “Also, this girl is on you. I expect you to always keep her with you, even on missions, got it?”

Wolfe nodded.

Damian continued. “If she fucks up, if there is even the slightest hint she’ll betray us, put a bullet in the back of her head. Can you handle a deckbearer?”

Wolfe gave a savage grin, his teeth showing, back on familiar ground. “It’s what I literally just did—and I did it even before I was a deckbearer. Twice.”

It was true. When he was young, and first in the employ of Big Man Grimm, he had managed to take down a deckbearer in personal combat. He had chased more than one off since then, and downed one other.

Of course, he’d also been chased off by a few, and almost killed more than once. But his personal combat prowess was legendary—he could take an inexperienced deckbearer down fast, and every serious player in the Noimore underworld knew that about him.

Although, of late, he’d been getting old. He was already getting a touch sore. The deck he had received was a gift of epic proportions, no matter what it said about him. It would give him an edge again for a long time.

Damian grunted. “Good.”

Then he turned and started to waddle back. “Well, I’m going to see some others about getting those cards. And get out of the stench of this warehouse. I don’t know how you grunts can handle this. Keep your eyes open and your ears to the street, Wolfe. Don’t disappoint me.”

Wolfe nodded.

Damian pointed to Harry, who was hovering just inside the warehouse door, and called out, “You! Get the girl into Wolfe’s car—we’re keeping her in the family for now. Then clean this place up.”

“I’m on it,” Harry called back, but Damian ignored him as he walked out the door. His imp fell in behind him, looking contemptuously at the others as he flew into the rain after his deckbearer.

Harry went and cut Shel free from the chair. He lifted her up, but she nearly collapsed and stared at Harry with huge eyes.

“It’s okay, girl,” he said. “Wolfe saved you, and we don’t have to hurt you anymore.”

The lug put his shoulder into Shel’s stomach and easily hoisted her into a fireman’s carry. She let out a groan, but otherwise didn’t react as Harry walked out of the warehouse and into the stormy night.

Pete gave the warehouse a quick once over, then burned the ropes and cleaned the blood from the chair. Meanwhile, Wolfe brought the internet up on his phone and looked over basic deckbearer information. Ten minutes later, when Pete was done, Wolfe followed Harry out the door.

He found Harry, soaked, at the back of Wolfe’s car, the girl still over his shoulder—also soaked.

“Open the trunk, Wolfe?” Harry asked.

Wolfe gritted his teeth. All the intelligence of an enthusiastic husky puppy. You want to like it, but…

“She’s on our side again, remember? Helping us with the cops and the Cobras. Put her in the front seat. For fuck’s sake, jackass, the window’s blown out, you could have opened the car at any time.”

Harry opened the door without acknowledging Wolfe’s irritation, then swiped glass from the passenger seat with his free hand. Once done, he carefully set Shel in the seat and buckled her in. Wolfe gave a slight frown as his seat got wet on the passenger side, to match the driver’s side.

Shel managed a thanks for Harry, which, from Shel to the guy that had just been torturing her, had to be the most autonomous response ever.

Wolfe got into the car and turned the key, feeling the power rev through it despite the damage it had taken.

He gunned the car and headed home, through the seedy underbelly of Noimore. The girl was silent the entire way. Her silence was something Wolfe hadn’t expected. In his experience, most girls liked to talk in situations where they felt they were in danger. But he appreciated her quiet. It gave time for Wolfe to think about things. Like what his plan would be once he got to his house.

Although the girl was shaking, probably from the cold rain that had soaked into the back of her pants and shirt, and possibly from the air that blew in the busted window. Without saying anything, Wolfe turned the heater on and faced the vents toward her. She settled into stillness after that.

Trash littered the wet roads between the large warehouses and multi-story apartment buildings as he drove through the rain, detritus from general neglect and the more recent Drop Night celebrations both. An odd little zoning thing that ran all the poor people’s residences up against the working area with the big trucks.

Loud vehicles were the least of the residents’ concern, of course. Number one was all the crime. The criminals were still out and about, even an hour after the drop. He saw obvious streetwalkers, as well as dealers he personally knew, almost all of whom worked for the Grimm family. Either directly or, more often, indirectly—thinking they were a gang owning turf, rather than just the hired distributors of Big Man Grimm whom he could wipe out merely by not providing product. And if they ever got really uppity… well, that was what Wolfe was for, he thought with a grimace.

Wolfe turned past the small Sanctuary Hospice, the slightest smile tugging at his lips as he gazed at its run-down wooden façade.

The hospice was run by David Torres, a rat tribal deckbearer who had Beast and Life power. He had gotten the sanctum as a building type card in his deck. Building type cards had been introduced almost four hundred years ago in a set release, but still occasionally showed up in new sets as well. They were quite powerful, reducing your available power but adding permanent bonuses if you were inside the building—and benefits everyone could use.

The church was a haven for the poor and sick in Noimore, a tiny light shining in the darkness that provided healing, a place to stay, and some food from whatever magical energies sustained the cards.

It was also fairly close to Wolfe’s own house, and a second later, Wolfe turned into his driveway.