“You owe me.” My voice is desperate. “I’m not entirely sure how you figure.” “Han’s still in custody.” “Yeah, he got a nasty bump on the skull in Portland, I hear.” She knows, it’s in her tone. “I don’t owe you. But check your fax machine. That’s me… more »

It seems like it’s been a hell of a lot longer than a year since we were all in this bar together. Queen brought the pouch, that used to hold a Crown Royal, with little plastic chess pieces inside, one for each of us. Rook says she’s in, and the moment… more »

My arm’s in a cast, now, fingers splinted. The Doctor’s hopeful, damned near optimistic I’ll be back to twiddling with both thumbs, soon. And Pawn’s happy, too; with me sidelined, he’s been doing more of my work. And walking around as sheriff, he gets… more »

I finally track him down to a church, the church where Pawn and the hunter first met. “How did you find me?” “Rook’s story. The VC wouldn’t kill a mage without telling me- even a hunter.” “If they told you, you’d demand your pound of flesh.” “With s… more »

Bishop takes me to the Doctor. He was her mentor, up in Seattle, and that’s about the only reason he sees me at all. He’s brilliant, though if he lives long enough he’ll see his star pupil outshine him. That’s a large if, though. I don’t know if she n… more »

I run my hand down the Queen’s spine, trying to feel for an injury, just to be careful, then Harry helps me set him on the floor. I check his vitals: pulse is steady, breathing heavy, but otherwise healthy. There’s a poison on the air, though I can’t… more »

The necromancer turns his attention to me, and impossibly I can see his teeth against his otherwise featureless silhouette. Then I hear someone else, behind him, in the doorway. “Hello, Anthony.” “Queen,” the necromancer says, turning his attention aw… more »

It feels like I'm running past the same dark alley I've been past for the hundredth time. Portland is a rat warren. But I tell myself he’s foreign, and can’t know it any better than I do. Unless he’s been hunting in the area- which is a possibility. Tha… more »

I can’t believe I’m being sent on a fucking errand. I’m barely sober enough to hand over my keys to Rook. The King says he needs something, though I’m not real sure on the specifics. I kind of think this is just payback for drinking his liquor. Though t… more »

I drop the sample off at Bishop's lab. But she's distracted. “The King wandered off.” She tells me. “He wanted me to give you a message, for you to meet him at the Centre.” “The Centre? The building we fought our way out of earlier this evening?” “May… more »

Bishop is waiting by the front door, and opens up her lab as soon as I get there. Pawn’s sobered up enough that he and the King are laughing. Bishop rolls her eyes at the two of them; I have even less patience for their reverie. “You did have more impo… more »

The Kindred stay hunkered down in their cars, waiting; they’re no soldiers. If they’ve got something to shoot at, or something to charge at, they’re a reasonable facsimile. But soldiers are more than that. They’re supposed to be problem solvers, and the… more »

“It’s pretty,” I say, feeling a little bad. “But all the colors. Bishop didn’t have to do that.” “Yes, but murdering someone doesn’t necessarily have to be monochromatic.” Queen smiles when I look at him. I don’t, because I see it on his face. “We sho… more »

I’m heading north, back home, when I see something in my rearview. I call Rook. “Maybe you can help me out, here. I’ve got a tail: three fucking morons in a Mercedes.”   “Busted?” she asks.   “Yeah. Pull over.” I find a stretch of shoulder long enou… more »

“Thomasina McGoohan, my favorite Fed.” “Never marry a man named McGoohan, no matter how big a dick he’s got.” “This state wouldn’t recognize it even if I did.” I smile at our server, “A salad, Caesar or the closest facsimile.”“And it’s Tamsin,” Thomasina… more »