Eye for an eye

The Nighthawks Motorcycle club

Bella Knight

Book

5

Edited by

Natasha Lind

© Copyright 2017 - All rights reserved.

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Contents

Recap from Lost MC Book 4

1. Assassination Time

2. Moving Forward

3. The New Normal

4. Captivating

5. Loss

About the Author

Afterword

Recap from Lost MC Book 4

Assassination

“Take your next steps in life; move forward or get run over.”

Lily woke Ace up. “Umpf,” he said. “What?”

“My brother texted me,” said Lily.

“What does he want?” Ace rubbed his eyes, realizing he wasn’t getting more sleep.

“He’s been sober. Apparently, somewhere with the Northern Paiutes.”

“They’re all over northern California, northern Nevada, Idaho, and Oregon. Good place to get him out of the way.”

Her brother Devlin, two years younger, had gotten into alcohol and drugs. He’d stolen drugs from Big Mike and Leticia, the heads of a drug-running gang called The Deuces. Ace had insinuated to Leticia that Devlin was dead; it would not be a good idea for him to come back to Vegas. Ace had gotten Devlin into a spin-dry facility to get him sober, and then Henry had arranged to take him someplace far away.

“He wants to make amends,” said Lily. “He may be an idiot, but I love him, and I have to hear him out.”

Ace sighed. “Even if he’s using again?”

“If he were using again, he’d be looking for money and giving me some sob story.”

“Good point,” said Ace. “When and where?”

“He’s near Tonopah at a rest stop.” Tonopah was a small town halfway between Las Vegas and Reno.

Sighing, Ace sat up and reached for his jeans that were on the back of a chair. “I’ll text Ivy. She’ll have to do my job.”

Ivy texted back that she would close the bar and come with them. They dressed quickly and were soon on the road.

They met at a pancake house and had apple pancakes, bacon, and orange juice.

“You alright?” asked Ivy.

“Not really,” said Lily. “If he’s sober, that’s the best I can hope for.”

They made good time. The bus stop wasn’t busy, a few trucks off in the distance. Ivy went for water from a machine while they met Devlin.

Devlin looked rugged, tough, with actual muscles. He wore a cowboy hat, a faded blue shirt, and torn jeans.

“May I hug you?” he asked, in a gravelly voice. Lily didn’t answer; she just hugged him.

Lily held him, then let him go and stepped back. “Looking better, brother.”

“Been working on fences, found out more about cows than I wanted to,” he said. “Not a life I would have chosen for myself, but it’s good.”

“How you getting back?” asked Ace.

“I’ll call. Guy who brought me is meeting family.”

“Good,” said Ace. “I know you want to talk to my wife. I’ll get us some sodas.”

“I heard you were married,” said Devlin. “That’s cool. You deserve to get treated better than how Dad and I treated you.”

“What is your… program, I guess,” asked Lily.

“Narcotics Anonymous,” said Devlin. “And the other one too.”

No one saw where the shots came from. Ace went down first, throwing himself across Lily. Devlin fell away from them, his body jerking, a look of shock on his face. Lily tried to scream, but her breath was crushed by Ace’s body on hers.

Ivy came running. “Ace!” she screamed. She kept her head down, but no more shots were fired. There was a squeal of tires.

Ivy dialed 9-1-1 and started yelling into the phone about rest stops and mile markers and shooting. Lily ran her hands over her husband’s body, feeling blood pulsing through her fingers.

“Baby,” said Ace. “You shot?”

“Don’t think so,” she said, trying to put pressure on the wound with one hand and get her shirt off over her head with the other.

“Ivy,” she said, “Get him off me. I’ve got to get to…” She looked behind her, swiveling her head about. Devlin was sprawled on the ground, head out. “Devlin!” Lily screamed.

Ivy pulled Ace off, taking off her own shirt and rolling it up, pressing it into his shoulder. She used a finger to speed dial and called out the mile marker to Henry. He said someone would be there fast.

A guy in a pickup drove up. A second guy hopped out the other side.

“We can get you to the hospital faster,” said the driver, a brown-haired, skinny guy covered with tattoos. “Jasper, the ambulance driver ‘round here, is clear on the other side of the city.”

Ivy and the men grabbed Ace and hauled him to the truck. Lily finally was able to turn her head and shoulders to see her brother. She started crawling for him, then she saw his empty eyes staring at the sky. She hauled herself up, and stumbled toward the truck, toward the one she loved that was still alive. She didn’t bother trying to get into the cab. She climbed into the bed of the truck, shaking uncontrollably. The door closed, and Lily grabbed the side and held on.

They were in the hospital driveway before Lily was able to stop shaking. The doctors came out with a gurney. They took one look at Lily, covered with blood, and a big guy in scrubs the size of a house picked her up and put her in a wheelchair.

“Where are you hit?” he asked.

“I’m not, I don’t think,” said Lily. “Someone shot my husband.”

“Who?” asked the guy.

Ivy slid out of the truck after the shorter friend of the tall guy. “A dead person walking,” she said.

“Take your next steps in life; move forward or get run over.”

1

Assassination Time

“Sometimes people assassinate the mind. Others gun for the soul.”

The hospital was bright white; from lights, to walls, to sheets, and very small. They had Ace in surgery before Lily had time to do more than say his name and say that he had no allergies. They took Lily in to look her over. Ivy texted Henry where they were, and said that Devlin’s body was by the side of the road; a body with answers as to who killed him and shot Ace. Ivy filled out pointless paperwork and sent out a 9059, which meant to go on lockdown. They were to protect the children, and set up a command center.

An Iron Knight showed up, two fully charged burner phones in one hand, and a bag with sweatpants and T-shirt in the other. “Freddy,” he said. “I play hockey.”

Ivy snorted. “Thank you,” she said. She barged into Lily’s examination, making the doctor start, an older man with a mustache and ice-blue eyes.

“You can’t just…” said the doctor.

“This is my pregnant sister,” said Ivy. “Her brother was just shot directly in front of her. You better not have given her any medications.”

“I told them not to,” said Lily. “I also told them I was pregnant. They tried to give me a shot anyway.”

Ivy rounded on the doctor. “You what?”

The doctor held up his hands. “She’s in shock!”

“And she’s confused about being pregnant?” Ivy asked. “Get the hell away from her. She wasn’t shot, and you’re an idiot.” The doctor humphed, but quailed under Ivy’s glare. He mumbled about having other patients, and left.

Ivy pulled the curtains all the way around. “Clothes,” she said. Lily grabbed the bag and pulled off her bloody clothes, and pushed the bloody ones into the bag.

Ivy took a phone and sent out the 9059 again. She immediately got a call from Gregory. “Ace is down,” Ivy said. “Shot in the shoulder, so he should be okay in the end. Devlin, Lily’s brother, died instantly.”

“He was shot in the head,” said Lily, clearly. “They may not have been shooting to kill, or have meant to kill Devlin and only wanted to wound Ace.” Tears streamed out of her eyes, unnoticed.

Ivy repeated the information to Gregory. She reached out and dragged Freddy into their little makeshift room when Lily was fully dressed.

“Get with the police. Don’t know if they’ll be local or Highway Patrol. Probably Nye County. Find out who’s got the body. We need to know whatever they learn, yesterday.” She held up her phone with Gregory’s number displayed on it. “This is Gregory. Report to him and to me.”

“On it,” Freddy said, putting Gregory’s number into his phone. He then started making calls.

She rang Gregory as she spoke to Freddy. “Who’s that?” asked Gregory.

“Freddy. Local Iron Knight, hockey lover.”

“Good to know,” said Gregory. “Setting things up here. Keep us in the loop.”

“Will do,” said Ivy, then hung up.

“Where do we wait?” asked Lily, standing up.

“That’s my girl,” said Ivy. She handed her the other phone with one hand and opened the curtain with the other.

“Gun!” said Freddy. He had his Colt .45 out, and got off two shots. One guy fell to the ground; gun falling on the floor, a Glock.

Ivy dropped both the phone and the curtain, shoved Lily back, and took out her own gun from the pocket holster. She got off two shots at the other shooter, one through his shoulder, the other through his neck. The gun in his hand, another Glock .45, fired as he went down. Ivy ducked, and she heard the ping of a ricochet.

Ivy looked down, holstered her gun in her back holster, and turned to see if Lily was all right. There was a crimson hole in her belly. Ivy picked up Lily, and ran through the door marked “Surgery.”

“Open surgical bay?” she screamed at a black man who was dressed in green scrubs and a camo-printed surgical cap.

He pointed to the left and ran to open the door for her. “Lay her down here,” he said. He looked at the wound. “Gut shot. Nancy! IV! Now!”

A nurse came barreling in the room. “Doctor Vanta?” she said. She reached for a needle kit.

“Lily is pregnant,” said Ivy, “and her husband was also shot; he’s in the other surgical bay.”

“We’ll get this done,” said Doctor Vanta. “Now, get out and find out who is shooting up my hospital.”

“On it!” said Ivy. “No one gets into this room without your clearing them,” she said. “I’ll see to it personally.”

“I’ll need Kelley and Quinn,” he said. “They’ll show you ID.”

“Okay,” said Ivy, and went out in front of the door.

Two people in surgical scrubs ran into a glassed-in room next to the surgical bay. They started scrubbing their hands.

Ivy opened the door. “You Kelley and Quinn?” she asked.

“Doctor Athena Quinn and Surgical Nurse Zach Kelley,” said the tall, black woman with green eyes. “I know you’re on a 9059, but I can’t show you my ID without scrubbing in again, and your friend doesn’t have the time.”

“Good enough,” said Ivy.

“What the fuck is a 9059?” asked Zach, still scrubbing.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Athena. “See you on the other side,” she said to Ivy.

“Don’t fuck it up,” said Ivy. Athena nodded, and Ivy closed the door.

Ivy stood halfway between the surgical room door and the scrub room, her eyes tracking the hallway, including the security cameras. She moved her ankle gun to her pocket holster, then leaned against the door. Her eyes roved, scanning the hallway.

A cop came around the corner and pointed a gun at her. “Stop right there!” he said, his voice cracking.

He was in his twenties, but he looked like he was still in high school; thin and reedy, with a prominent Adam’s apple. He wore a brown uniform, and had so much equipment strapped on that it must have weighed nearly more than he did.

“I am standing here,” said Ivy. “Why are you pointing a gun at me?”

“Are you kidding me?” he shouted. “You shot a guy! In front of patients!”

“Guys who shot my friend in there. They shot first. Now, holster your weapon and… Quit. Pointing. It. At. Me.” Ivy gave him a flat stare. He visibly recoiled, the gun wavering.

A new, flat voice called from down the hall. “Put your gun away, Avery. She’ll give me the gun she shot the bad guy with for ballistics testing, without you.” Her voice grew very, very sharp, “Pointing a loaded gun in a hospital, right outside two surgical bays where they’re operating on patients.”

Avery still pointed the gun at Ivy, but didn’t look at the woman coming up behind, although he recognized the voice.

“It’s Xenia,” she said. “Nice to meet again.”

“You’re not the boss of me!” said Avery, in his quivery voice.

Ivy snorted. Xenia laughed, and the sound wasn’t pretty. “No, but I fuck him sometimes, and I promise you this, I am going to show him the tape where you draw on a woman that is just standing in a hallway. Then you wave your gun around like a rookie. It’s idiots like you that shoot dogs and victims at crime scenes.”

Avery holstered his gun. “You’re under arrest,” he said, taking out his cuffs. Ivy snorted again.

Xenia stepped forward. “I’m claiming jurisdiction. The initial murder happened on the highway. The attempted assassination happened as fruit from the first tree. So, go away now, Avery,” she said, waving her hand. “Shoo.”

Xenia had stepped forward enough that Ivy could see Xenia take out a plastic evidence bag used for ballistics. Moving very slowly, Ivy took the gun out of her back holster, took out the clip, and dropped the gun and clip into the bag. Xenia put the bag in a case by her feet and then took out a GSR pad. She carefully wiped Ivy’s right hand. Then, she used another pad for her left hand. She put the pads away in her special box and stood.

“I’m good,” she said. “The shooting’s all on camera. You got the guy after he shot the patient.”

Avery stood there. “You’re not arresting her?” His voice hit the stratosphere.

“She’s helping the ATF and the DEA,” said Xenia. “If you want to piss them off, be my guest. I know for a fact Homeland Security is keeping an eye on this mess, too. The two that got shot today are shooters for hire, Tonio Munoz, and Benvedio Marcelos. Both Texans, way away from where they were supposed to be.”

“Then she needs to be under arrest,” said Avery. “She’s a witness!”

“Are you still here?” asked Ivy, giving him a flat stare. “And I’m pressing charges against you for your pointing a gun at me when you didn’t have one pointed at you. You also never identified yourself as a police officer. I hope you have a great lawyer because all of this is on camera. What’s your badge number?”

“I have it,” said Xenia. “I suggest hiring Eddie Flores. He’s a great attorney, and he’s had Avery here do the same thing to him. Already warnings against this sort of thing in his jacket.”

“Really?” said Ivy. “What’s his number?”

Avery spluttered. “Xena!”

“Xena is a fictional warrior princess. Xenia is the goddess of hospitality, generosity, and courtesy; things you apparently know nothing about. And, it’s Sheriff Xenia Hill, while you are soon-to-be Ex-Officer Marcel Avery. Now, please leave.”

Avery kept spluttering, but he eventually left, looking over his shoulder as if Ivy would draw on him at any minute. Xenia called Security to make sure all the hospital footage was held for the Highway Patrol and, most likely, the DEA and ATF. The alphabet soup of letters made the security guard vow to send all the raw footage immediately; including the hallway footage, to the Nye County Sheriff’s Office, and to specifically not release any footage to the Pahrump Police Department.

Xenia called Eddie Flores herself. “Eddie, Sheriff Hill here. Avery pulled a gun on someone in a hospital corridor, and I have footage.”

Ivy and Xenia smiled cat smiles at the man’s glee. “I’ve been trying to get Baby Avery kicked out for nine months now. Shot a beagle last week. A beagle! On private property! I’m representing the homeowner, too. His mama is on the school board, which is why he hasn’t been fired yet.”

“Well, get on it,” said Xenia. “I’ll email you the footage. Happened not less than a minute ago.”

“On it,” said Eddie. He hung up.

Xenia put the phone in her pocket. “We can’t hug here because I’m conducting an impartial investigation, but as a Valkyrie, I swear I’ll kill anyone trying to kill Ace.” She pointed to the correct operating room. “Or Lily, his wife.” She pointed at the other. “Got both Valkyries and Iron Knights lining up to be on protection duty. Sorry about Lily’s brother. We’ll take good care of him.”

Ivy teared up, then got herself under control. “Thank you. You’ll find out one of those Texas numbnuts killed him.”

“I assume you have more weapons,” Xenia said.

“Absolutely,” said Ivy.

“Any of those throwing stars I heard about from the ATF report? Didn’t know you were into that.”

“They don’t have wooden boards for throwing stars at the shooting range,” said Ivy. “No reason you should have known.”

“Well, Herja will be here soon. She calls her boyfriend by her own handle, Devastator. So, you get two for one.”

“Why is your name Greek and not Norse?”

Xenia laughed. “My mama is a university professor of Greek mythology.”

Ivy smiled. “Thank the Valkyries and the Iron Knights for me, please.”

“Thank us yourself.” Herja had big ice-blue eyes, pale skin, white-blonde hair in various braids, and amazing tiny braids that merged together, as well.

“Ivy,” Herja said and nodded. “This is Devastator.”

Devastator had dark skin, with many tribal tattoos wrapping around his arms. Then a mass of curly hair caught in a silver clip at the nape of his neck. They were the same height, and both had muscles rippling under their skin. Xenia nodded at her friends, grabbed her box, and made tracks out of the building.

“Thank you,” said Ivy, stepping forward. “The Nighthawks owe the Valkyries and the Iron Knights.”

Ivy’s phone rang. Herja stood in Ivy’s previous spot and Devastator across from her. They leaned against the walls and were obviously armed. Ivy clearly saw both holsters and knives in boots.

Ivy’s stepped away to take it. “I’ve got the kids at the school. We’re going to make pizzas and watch movies later,” said Callie. “Are you okay?”

“Absolutely not,” said Ivy. “Devlin was shot dead right in front of me, Ace is in surgery, Lily is across the hall losing her baby because she got shot, and I wasn’t fast enough to stop any of it.” She took a deep breath. “And the cops have one of my guns.”

Callie gasped. “What the fuck? More shooting?”

“We’ve got the Valkyries and the Iron Knights on it. A Valkyrie is the sheriff here. We’ll be safe, for now. But these were hired, guys.” Ivy heard a beep. “Got another call, baby.”

“Stay safe,” said Callie.

“On it,” said Ivy. She switched calls. “Talk to me.”

“Leticia don’ know nuffin,” said Ghost. “She say she din’ know that white boy still wif us. I tell her he got punished, sent away to work. She say, well, he now dead. She say she don’ want no Nighthawks pissed at her. So, she say, we need somfin, we call in da favah.”

“Don’t need one yet,” said Ivy.

“You need Killa and I dere? We be fas’ on our bikes.”

“Guard our people,” said Ivy.

“Been doin’ dat. De braiding lessons goin’ well. Killa done taught how to put in de beads.”

Ivy’s brain froze at the idea of two gangbangers on the floor, showing children how to braid hair. “That’s real good,” she said. “You keep the kids safe.”

“We good,” said Ghost, and hung up.

Ivy turned the corner. She found a machine and shuddered at the idea of artificial coffee. She chose a Dr. Pepper instead. She popped the top and drank it down. She found a waiting room around the corner, strangely empty. She sat down and let the adrenaline take her into the shakes. She stood up, walked back to the hallway, and leaned against a wall.

Gregory called. “We heard about the shooters. We think it’s the Talamates. Or, it may be someone trying to make them happy.”

“They are supposed to be gone, And, isn’t that nutcase La Diabla locked up?” La Diabla was a Talamates assassin sent to kill Ivy. Ace and Ivy had taken that bitch down, hard.

“We’ve had issues with lawyers,” said Gregory. “We’re trying to find out who hers is.”

Ivy blew out a breath. “I should have thought of that.”

“Tito’s gonna be here soon. We’re splitting up keeping everyone safe, and finding out who did this.” Gregory’s tone was all business; exceptionally calm. Ivy loved that about him.

Ivy took a shaky breath. “We’re in the loop on the shooting. The shooters are dead. They came after me again and they got Lily. She’s probably going to lose the baby.”

He got absolutely silent. “Fuck,” he said. “So, we’re after who sent them.”

“Ghost already told me Leticia had nothing to do with it. Track down the lawyer. The shooters came from Texas. The connection will be there.”

“We’ve got a chapter of the Iron Knights in Texas,” he said. “And they’re real down on assassins.”

“Reach out to them,” said Ivy, “and the name of the bitch’s lawyer. Someone is doing this, and if we pull enough strings, we’ll get to it. I’ll call Wraith.”

“Hold on,” said Gregory.

A voice came on the line. “Wraith here,” said a female voice. “Hey, I hear the assassins are crawling out of the woodwork.”

“They are,” said Ivy. “I’ve got guards on the surgical rooms, and I’m in the same hallway.”

“We’ll run down some things,” said Wraith. “Hang on. When it’s safe enough to move them, there’s this real quiet hospital recovery center we can move them to. There’s this one corridor we use for people with getting-dead issues.”

“Sounds good,” said Ivy. “For now, we’ve got to move on this.”

“Getting the job done,” said Wraith. “And just so you know, the Valkyries tried to recruit me, and the Iron Knights tried to get both me and Saber.” Saber was Wraith, the DEA agent’s boyfriend, with ATF. Both were bikers.

“Well, join whoever floats your boat,” said Ivy. “We’d love to have you, but you have to do what’s best for you.”

“Shut up,” said Wraith. “We told them no. We’re with you. We may have to not be with you if we’re on a case, but we’re with you right now.”

“You complete me,” said Ivy. Wraith laughed.

“Come home when everyone is in the safe hospital. Meanwhile, I’ve got a Valkyrie that can super-help with the bar. You’ll need an income; you can’t just keep shutting down the bar when people try to assassinate you.”

Ivy nodded. “It keeps happening,” she said. “So, who is she?”

“She loves to rock.”

“Okay, we’ll get into that later. We’ve got to find the assassin-sending cretin out there.”

“On it,” said Wraith.

Ivy hung up. She considered the fact that she needed to eat. She also needed to grab a nap; surgeries were either long or ended in sudden death.

She peeked around the corner and said, “There a Sonic around here?” Both Herja and Devastator pointed to the left.

She realized her bike was still at the crime scene by the side of the road, so she summoned an Uber on her cell. She had to have the Uber driver park at the far end of the rest stop. The bikes were far enough away from the meet that they weren’t on the wrong side of the police tape. The coroner van was there. A man in a Stetson was there; full police uniform, chatting with Xenia. Xenia nodded at Ivy; Ivy knew then who was behind leaving the bikes alone. A man with a face (wizened by wind and weather) came up to her in full biker gear, helmet in hand, do-rag on his head.

“Herder,” he said. “Michael. Iron Knights. Go by my last name. Some of my flock’s like lost sheep. We got keys from the pockets. My wife Charlie and I will ride Ace and Lily’s bikes back to Vegas with our kids following us. Jamie’s sixteen and Ula’s twenty. Good kids. Take ‘em to a show, let them dance at Dirty Vegas.”

“Only if they’ve got fake IDs,” said Ivy. “Don’t need Liquor Control shutting us down.” Herder snorted. “Don’t know when we’re opening; got a Valkyrie to talk to.”

“She’s already there,” said a woman. She was short, with black hair flowing down her back. “Bella’s meeting her. Cougar’s half black and half Crow; I’m half Sioux and half black myself. Sistas gotta stick together.”

Ivy said, “Word.” The women hugged.

“Go back to the hospital now,” said Charlie, releasing her.

Two girls in a quad cab truck, colored cherry red, drove up behind the bikes. “We’ll leave these at the club.”

“May the wind be in your teeth,” said Ivy.

Charlie laughed. “That’s the way I like it,” she said. They mounted up.

Ivy cringed deep inside when she saw Ace’s American flag and Lily’s white, calla lily keychains.

They went to the exit, and Charlie, Herder, and the girls went to the overpass to go back to Vegas. Ivy put on her helmet, started the bike, and went to Sonic. She got herself cheese sticks; the only thing she thought she could hold down, and a cherry limeade.

When she got back to the hospital, she took in her go backpack from her saddlebags. She went to the surgical floor to relieve Herja at the door. Herja wasn’t having it. Both Ace and Ivy were still in surgery.

“Get some fucking sleep,” said Herja. “Long haul.”

Ivy nodded, clasped Herja’s wrist, and went to the waiting room. She took the bedroll from the bottom of the pack, unrolled it, and laid it over two chairs and a low table at the same height. All after removing the fake flowers and putting them on another table. She laid easily down, the pack as her pillow, and took a catnap.

She jerked awake, stood. She rolled up the bag and tied it to the bottom of her bag. She stretched, popping her spine. She checked her messages. Nothing. She called Gregory. Tito answered.

“Everything is in hand,” said Tito. “Wraith and Saber are doing something undercover. The kids are safe. We’re good. We’ve deployed to Henry’s farm, and the res is on alert. Doubt that’s where they’ll hit, though. They seem fucking determined to kill you.”

“I think they hit Ace because he’s the other one that took La Diabla down.”

“They didn’t see you?”

“Nope,” said Ivy. “I was getting sodas.”

“Good,” said Tito. “Glad you’re not dead.”

“So am I,” said Ivy with a semi-laugh. “Keep me posted.” She hung up and went to see what was going on.

Action

Tito sighed as he hung up the phone. The Nighthawks attacked again, check. His brother Ace was shot, check. His sister, Ace’s wife’s good-for-nothing brother, shot and killed, check. The news that the bastards had come back to finish the job, and that the ricochet had gone into Lily’s stomach and caused her to lose the baby made him feel as if he’d been gut-shot himself. He thought of his wife and his own kids.

Callie stuck her head out of the classroom door. “Can someone bring me more juice boxes? Half grape, half apple,” she said.

Tito looked up at her. “Call your wife,” he said. She took one look at his face, turned white, and pulled out her own phone. “Bathroom break!” she called into the classroom.

“Okay,” said Henry. Callie rushed out toward the bathroom.

Nantan saw his face, and said, “What is it, brother?”

“The killers came by again and shot up the emergency room where Ivy and Lily were. Ivy is fine but Lily was gut-shot by a ricochet before she could kill the bastard. Lily lost the baby.”

The entire room silenced. “Fuck me,” said Numa. “I’ll go out there once we get things a bit more settled here.”

“Good idea,” said Tito, “but, let’s get some more intel first. What do we know?”

“It ain’t Leticia,” said Ghost. “We done found that out. We gotta find out ‘bout anyone not caught by the po-lice in Mexico.”

“I got calls out about that,” said Tito. “The Iron Knights have been particularly helpful.” He pulled up a screen. “Two top Los Zetas cartel people were not shut down when we took out Talamantes’ son. Then his little gang Viento Malvado, and his shooter La Diabla, a few months back. This nasty motherfucker is Werner Banatas. His mother was one of Benicio’s whores that got out of the life and married; of all people, a German hit man. He ghosted when the indictments against the cartel went down. Our ace in the hole, Saber, says he may have been seen in Texas, the home of our two, (just hit) people. Stupid shooter number one was Tonio Munoz, twenty-three, a drug runner since age twelve; mule for the cartel, and now a hit man. Asshole number two, Benvedio Marcelos, was a best friend of asshole one, and was arrested for running drugs at, get this, age nine. He graduated to armed robbery. He’s now twenty-five, and just got out of the penitentiary in Beaumont, Texas; favorite place to hang out with Tonio, who got out six months before he did, for beating his girlfriend.”

“I mourn the loss,” said Numa, dryly.

“As do I,” said Tito. “Asshole bastards may have been in contact with Evil Guy One. Werner Banatas is heading here, according to the reported trail of bodies. He seems to be cleaning up the cartel business, making sure all the cut-outs get cut out, so no one can blab about cartel business.”

“Evil Guy number two?” asked Numa.

“I’m glad you asked,” said Tito. “David Rayalos Talamantes is young, smart, and a bastard Talamantes as well. We think he took Daddy’s money and ran, along with his wife and kids. He’s a stone, cold killer. He supposedly strangled his first girlfriend because, according to rumor, she laughed at the size of his cock. He’s only twenty-six. He is married to Celia Villa Cantos, a hit woman herself, with bright red hair, likes to carry an Uzi. She’s two years older, and twice the man he’ll ever be. If she’s in charge, expect carnage.”

“She’s our biggest threat, not Werner. But, he’s probably the one that sent the Texas assassins,” said Wraith, tossing her white-blonde braid over her shoulder. “They’ve been seen in Arizona, so they’ll get here first. We have another baby Talamantes, people, with a wife more bloodthirsty than he is.”

“I’ll warn Ivy,” said Tito.

“No, I’ll call the woman guarding her, Herja. She’s a Valkyrie. She’ll keep Ivy and Lily safe. Her second is Devastator, the meaning of Herja’s name. He’s the Iron Knight guarding Ace. They’ll look out for these guys.”

“Okay,” said Tito. “We have some time, so let’s get to know our bad guys.”

“We’ll dig deep, send you info, then go deep and dark.” Wraith hugged Numa, grabbed Tito by his wrist, and then took off.

Tito called Daisy Chain, a number Lily had given him with a solemn vow to never, ever call and ask random favors, and to only call in case of emergency. He called her, told him who he was.

“I hate to be the one to tell you, this, but Lily’s brother was shot and killed today. Ace was shot in the shoulder, and Lily was shot in the abdomen. She lost the baby.” He held the phone away from his ear until Daisy Chain stopped screaming. “She’s being guarded, but she’s still in danger. We have names.”

Daisy Chain choked out words through tears. “Killer names?”

“The killers are dead, but their masters are still very much alive and on the move. They’re cartel, they’re dangerous, so cover your tracks.”

“On it,” said Daisy Chain. Tito heard typing. “Give me the names.” So, he did.

* * *

Information came in fits and starts, as information came in. Benicio from the Iron Knights, DEA, showed up. “Werner is still in Texas,” said Benicio. “Got a body count in Amarillo. His signature move, throat slit with a serrated blade. Two drug mules. He may hire someone and send them here, but I doubt it. I think he sent those yahoos out as a grinder.”

“Send yahoos out against armed people?” asked Tito.

“Exactly,” said Benicio. “Might get your target, but if you lose your idiot shooters, then who cares? He doesn’t.”

Tito sighed. “We are taking this asshole down, aren’t we?”

“Absolutely, but I don’t know who is taking down whom. When Saber and Wraith go dark, they go midnight-dark.”

“Let’s hope they blow those nasties up before we have to deal with them.”

Wraith met with Saber just out of town, on the 15, at a truck stop. They ate bacon and waffles.

“Do you want Werner or Dirty Davie and Cistern Celia?” asked Saber to his one and only, Wraith.

“Cistern Celia?” she asked, sucking on a cola.

“She likes to shoot her victims and leave their bodies in cisterns.”

“That’s just lovely,” said Wraith. “Sounds like the perfect girlfriend.”

“Good God,” said Saber. He ate some bacon. “Woman, you terrify me.”

“Good,” said Wraith. “I need to be terrifying to make that woman feel safe. She’ll want to go after Ivy, and leave her husband for Ace. And, if hubby gets killed…” she shrugged. “No big loss. I’m sure either she’s holding the money, or she has plenty of her own.”

“Lovely. Husband as wallet and/or cutout.” He ate some waffle.

Wraith smiled beatifically. “Got to keep it real,” she said.

“Gonna need help,” said Saber. “I’m good, but not invincible, and we’ve gotta split up.”

“Let’s get us some Valkyries,” said Wraith. “We need swords and guns.”

“Lots of guns,” said Saber. “And those women come loaded for bear.”

“Well,” said Wraith, pulling out her cell phone. “Looks like I may have to be in two clubs at the same time.”

Saber sighed. “I don’t see you enough as it is.”

“They let me date,” said Wraith. “You’d be my second.”

He touched her wrist. “I am already your second.”

She clasped his wrist, and he clasped hers. “Yes, you are.”

The Las Vegas Valkyries sent two to the truck stop, Skuld (or Future), and Rota, meaning Storm. Skuld had braids running up one side of her head in a faux mohawk. Her hair spilled out into a white-blonde fall up. Over her head and down her back, held in a silver clip between her shoulder blades. Her eyes were a deep, penetrating blue, and her skin almost as pale as her hair.

Rota had black hair in tiny braids on one side, and flowing up into red on the top; then black, then blue at the tips. Her eyes were black granite, her lips wide, her nose flat, with cinnamon skin. They both ordered coffee, strong black.

“Who wants to go with me to the Texas border to take out a German/Mexican cartel assassin?” asked Saber. Skuld’s eyes flashed and she sat down next to Saber.

“I’m going after a murderous woman and her cartel boy-toy husband,” said Wraith.

“Sounds like fun,” said Rota. Wraith and Rota engaged in a complicated wrist-shake involving fingers.

“We need to pick up anything?” asked Saber. Skuld and Rota drank their coffee, and Wraith and Saber their colas.

“Nope,” said Rota. “Herja told us to come with everything.”

“This one’s ATF,” said Wraith. “I’ve got more weaponry than I know what to do with.”

“Way to break our cover,” said Saber.

Skuld snorted. “All the Valkyries know you. You, we get a favor from,” she said, pointing at Wraith. “Wraith, we choose you for six months. You can go back to the Nighthawks. Nice outfit, but we’re better.”

“You won’t go back,” said Rota. “Once a Valkyrie…”

“Spear, blade, shield, victory!” they both said.

“If you roll your eyes, you die,” said Wraith.

“That’s what I thought,” said Saber.

Wraith kissed Saber in the parking lot. He slipped her another throwing knife. She smiled and strapped the sheath just above her left wrist.

“You give me all the best toys,” she said. He kissed her again.

Skuld and Rota clung to each other’s necks, then kissed each other’s foreheads. They finished by touching foreheads and looked into each other’s eyes. They clasped wrists, and said to each other, “With your shield or on it. Spear, blade, shield, victory!”

Rota pulled out with Wraith, and Saber with Skuld. Skuld pulled ahead, and let out the throttle. Saber tried to keep up. Wraith and Rota flowed forward, letting the engines out, and laughed into the wind.

Skuld and Saber had the easier time. The trail of bodies was easy to track. Skuld actually caught Werner trying to hide a body in an alley.

“Need help?” she asked.

“Never,” said Werner. “I am perfect as I am.”

Saber snorted. “You leave bodies like a trail.”

“Like a vampire leaving kills,” said Skuld. She laid her head back, exposing her white neck, luminous in the light. “Easy to find.”

“You are hunting me,” said Werner, drawing his Glock.

Skuld had a knife embedded in the wall next to his temple before he had time to bring up the gun. “Now, now,” she said. “We have been sent to clean up your mess. Assassins are supposed to be like smoke, understand?”

“Who sent you?” he asked, taking the knife out of the wall.

“My devil lady sent me,” she said. “I am her right hand, and she wants you for her left hand. If you improve.” She walked forward, swaying her hips. She held out her hand for her knife.

Werner gave it back and holstered the gun. She made her knife disappear. “Come.” She waved her hand. “Saber, clean this up.”

“Yes, my lady,” said Saber, with a slight bow. She nodded and looked away.

“You must be somewhere else,” she said to Werner. “And I must be seen to be with you, after our wild night together.”

“Our wild night?” asked Werner.

She took his arm. “Let’s get some coffee. I saw a delightful little shop with the name of my favorite flower. You can spill coffee on yourself to cover the blood.”

They turned the corner, and Saber sent a few coded texts while he leaned down over the body. He expected ATF to send a coroner and an agent to the alley. He also sent the location of the Daisy Cafe; he’d seen it while looking for Werner. He streaked some alley dust on his jeans and hands and waited until a short Hispanic man with cop eyes came around the corner.

“You after the German?” he asked.

“Yeah. My current partner has him in the Daisy Coffee Shop. He’s got blood from this guy on his hands and shirt.”

“Biker chick with a braided mohawk?” asked the guy.

“Yeah,” said Saber. “I’m supposed to be hiding the body.”

The guy snorted. “Good job,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Saber. “Well, I’ve had enough time to throw him in a dumpster. We’ll work Werner into someplace without civilians so you can take us all down.”

“Just him,” said the guy. “You two catch a poof. Then, go meet up with your girlfriend. Her boss is having a cow that you two got separated.”

“Me too,” said Saber. “By the way, this one’s body count…”

“We know about Pahrump,” said the guy. “Stupid name for a town.” Saber barked out a laugh. “Besides, including this one, that’s twelve. In Texas. And we’re a death penalty state.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” said Saber.

“Be careful,” said the guy, “the coffee in that shop is terrible.”

Saber snorted, and ducked out of the alley, just ahead of the coroner.

* * *

Skuld ordered a truly, putrid, orange spice tea. He spilled a little on Werner to “help” him. Werner was angry but clenched his teeth because Skuld had him wrapped around her little finger.

“We have a hotel,” she said. “Very pleasant. Not a chain, but enough people so that we will not be noticed. Then, we will discuss payment.”

“Payment?” asked Werner.

“’She Who Shall Not Be Named’ loves your work. She wants to… compensate you.”

His caramel eyes shone with greed. “Let us go then,” said Werner.

“Let’s,” said Skuld. She waved her hand. “Clean this up,” she said to Saber, making a gesture to his left. Saber bowed a little. She rose, with Werner now on her arm.

Saber put the cups on a tray and carried it to the back trash can. He then sent two coded texts that said, “Essentially and “To the left.”

He went out, hands in pockets, and spotted the guy from the alley cross the street. He saw a car three blocks ahead, a beater with a tall black man leaning on it. He hurried a little to catch up with Skuld.

Skuld held Werner’s arm. She slipped him a key and whispered the name of a hotel. “Two blocks up, on the right,” she said. “There is an envelope on the bed, under the pillow. Ten thousand. You kill Ivy, you get ten thousand a month for the rest of your life.” She let go of his arm. “I will bring absinthe. We will celebrate.” She turned toward a liquor store and he rushed on ahead, eager for the promised money.

Saber met her at the liquor store and they went around the side. They looked around the corner as a third man came out of an alley. He already had a .45 pointed at Werner’s head. The guy from the alley put cuffs on him before the hit man had time to draw his numerous weapons.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” said Saber.

“Exactly,” said Skuld. She laughed evilly, making Saber shudder. “Texas will lethal-inject his ass.” She smiled cattily. “Let’s get some chocolate chip pancakes, then find our lovers.”

“They’re in Arizona,” said Saber, turning towards the yellow Waffle House sign in the distance. “Smaller body count. Apparently, less cisterns.”

Awakening

Ivy jerked awake, stood, and remembered she was in the hospital waiting room, and why. She rolled up the bag and tied it to the bottom of her pack. She stretched, popping her spine. She checked her messages. Nothing. She called Gregory. Tito answered.

“Everything is in hand,” said Tito. He told her all about the hunt for the nasties, Werner, David, and Celia. “Wraith and Saber are doing something undercover. The kids are safe. We’re good. We’ve deployed to Henry’s farm; the res is on alert. Doubt that’s where they’ll hit, though. They seem fucking determined to kill you. I think they hit Ace because he’s the other one that took La Diabla down.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” said Ivy. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be an asshole. I need soda.”

She heard some typing in the background. “You’ll have it. Use the restroom and come back to the waiting room, and it should be there by then.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “So, whoever you sent should be here soon. Good to know. Hope Wraith calls soon.”

“Or Saber,” said Tito. “Those two do good work.”

“Sadly, said Ivy, “that’s why we’re in this mess. But, I don’t regret bringing a cartel assassin down. Anyone look into her lawyer yet?”

“That’s ATF. Or maybe DEA. They bugged his phone and dropped his numbers. Wraith says some weenie in the office is matching numbers with hit assholes.”

“Okay,” said Ivy. “Keep it real.”

Tito sighed. “This, mi hermana, is as real as it gets.”

“Word,” said Ivy, and hung up.

She went into the hallway. Herja wasn’t there, but Devastator was. “His shoulder’s a fucking wreck. Almost done, doctor says. Bullet removal went well with the other one. A Nighthawk named Katya is with her in recovery. Lily’s sedated.”

Ivy grasped his wrist, and he grasped it back. “Nighthawks owe you.”

He withdrew his hand. “You owe nothing. That was a coward’s move, shooting a non-combatant’s brother dead, before killing a principal. And killing a non-combatant’s unborn child? Beyond disgusting.”

“Gotta agree with you there,” she said.

She left her pack at his feet. She hit up the restroom, washed her face. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She sighed and headed out.

Gregory was just outside the door, a blessed can of Dr. Pepper goodness in his hand. “Thought you needed this,” he said. She popped the top and downed it. He handed her another one. “And I have a backup.”’

“You rock,” said Ivy. He took the empty can, crushed it in his hand, and then held her. She swayed a little.

He let her go, then looked at her. “You look like shit, sister,” he said. “You need more sleep.”

“Not gonna happen,” she said. “What do we know?”

He reached down and shouldered her pack. “We aren’t much farther along on the investigation. The kids are going to stay over and make tacos. And giggle. A lot. They are arguing about expanding the hydroponics program, and that could go on all night.”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” said Ivy. “The debates in my house, (even with little girls who truly love each other), are vicious. Nantan has his hands full.” Nantan, who lived on Henry’s farm, was their hydroponics expert and horse whisperer.

“Wraith says she’s ‘going deep’ and Saber is tracing the nasties, too. Thought they got all the cartel nasties.”

Ivy snorted. “Obviously not.”

“Could be someone else,” said Gregory. They entered the elevator.

“Doubtful,” said Ivy. “Who else is stupid enough to hire hit people that take out the wrong people? They hit Lily’s brother Devlin, wing Ace, use ammo much too heavy for the shootout —Ace’s shoulder is apparently wrecked, and Devlin was missing most of the back of his head. And then, to top it all off, start a shootout in a hospital emergency room. No, someone hired the Stupid’s in Texas and sent them here, where they didn’t know the people or the territory.”

The elevator door opened. Devastator was guarding the door to the room.

“They moved her out of recovery quick. Easier to guard a private room,” said Gregory.

He nodded at Herja. She nodded back, her face a mask of Valkyrie hardness.

She smiled at Ivy. “Katya’s in there. We would have recruited her, but she’s with Gregory.”

Gregory drew himself up. “That my woman.”

“Ugh,” said Herja.

“Um, she owns me,” said Gregory.

“About right,” said Ivy, smiling at Herja. She went in.

Lily had IV lines going into her hand, and a machine to pump in drugs. She was flat on her back, her head slightly elevated. She had obviously been crying; her eyes were swollen. She clutched at her now-empty belly, even in sleep. Katya stood at her head, stroking Lily’s hair and crooning in Russian, her other hand on her own huge belly.

Ivy took Lily’s hand in hers. “Baby girl,” she said. “I am so sorry I did not kill that motherfucker faster.”

“I am as well,” said Katya. “This is terrible thing.”

“Yes, it is,” said Ivy.

“We will get the drugs, harvest her eggs on her next cycle. Or the one after that.”

“What?” asked Ivy.

“You know of this IVF thing? The doctor will take the eggs, and merge with sperm in dish.”

“I know what IVF is,” said Ivy. “She just lost the baby.”

“Will be okay,” said Katya. “Have many women in the club, she can choose the mother. She will heal and watch us get very fat and know her baby coming soon. After ours.”

Katya puffed out a few breaths and rubbed her back. The twins were huge. Ivy had often touched her stomach, and the babies had kicked her. Katya got used to having little sleep, as the boys kept kicking her in the ribs all night long.

“Do you need to sit down?” asked Ivy.

Katya waved her hand. “No, I must walk.”

She walked around the bed. Ivy walked up to Katya’s previous place and began to stroke Lily’s hair. She decided to pull over a chair in case either she or Katya wanted to sit. The chair was an annoying shade of pink, like bubble gum. It had a back that reclined slightly. She put it at the wall at Lily’s head, on the other side of the IV stand and the pain meds machine. She heard Katya huff and puff around the bed, then around the outside of the room. She sang to herself in Russian, touching the wall with one hand, and holding the babies with the other.

“Can I get you some water?” asked Ivy.

“No, only ice chips,” said Katya.

Ivy put two and two together. “Are you having the babies now?”

“Not now,” said Katya. “I text the midwife. She here very soon. Later.”

“Later,” said Ivy. “How much later?”

Katya came around the bed. She stopped as water hit the floor in between her legs. “Oh, my, big mess,” said Katya.

“Shit,” said Ivy. She ran into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, ran back out, and threw it on the floor.

“Must get bag. In car. Gregory drove.”

Ivy sighed. She stuck her head out the door. “Gregory, hand me my pack,” she said.

He handed it over. “Wha…”

“Now, very slowly, walk to your car, and bring in Katya’s bag from the car.”

Herja snorted. “Car?”

Gregory looked like a deer in the headlights. “This century, Gregory,” Ivy said. Gregory turned, opened the door to the stairs, and ran down them.

“He drove a car because his wife is having a baby,” said Katya. There was a loud groan from inside the room. “Right now.”

Herja whipped out her phone. “I’ll get a doctor.”

“No,” said Ivy. “The midwife is on her way.”

“Good,” said Herja. “Find out her name so we can let her in.”

Ivy ran in, threw her pack on an ugly green chair in the corner of the room, and helped Katya undress. Gregory ran in with the pack and helped them change Katya into a maternity nightgown. Ivy cleaned up the mess, washed herself up, and ran back into the room. She moved the ugly pink chair farther out for Katya to use. Gregory kept her walking around the room, helping her sing to herself in Russian.

“What is the name of your midwife?” Ivy asked a puffing Katya.

“Katrina Tsmova,” said Gregory. “We need ice chips.”

Ivy used the call button to call for ice chips. She stuck her head out of the room. “Herja…”

A red-haired Russian woman was staring daggers at Herja. “I help baby come. Now. You will move.”

“Your name?” asked Ivy.

“Katrina Tmova,” said the woman.

Ivy opened the door and the midwife strode in. Ivy saw the nurse approaching with the ice chips, took them from her, then assured the nurse the patient was fine and shut the door.

Gregory helped Katya sit in a chair. Ivy walked past them to hold Lily’s hand. She looked away as the gloved midwife put her hand under Katya’s dress. TMI, she thought to herself. Ivy continued to hold Lily’s hand as Gregory went behind his wife’s chair to rub her shoulders and feed her ice chips. The midwife stole the tray for Lily’s bed and took a sealed tray, then a towel out of her bag.

The midwife crouched, and put each of Katya’s legs on her own. “Babies come now,” she said, as Katya bore down, crushing Gregory's huge hands with hers. Ivy ran back into the bathroom to wash her hands again, and ran back out, another towel in hand.

“Baby one,” said the midwife, as the baby slipped out into her hands.

The midwife rubbed the baby’s back, and he gasped. She put the baby on Katya’s stomach. Gregory and Katya both put a hand on the baby.

“Ivan,” said Katya, “after my father.”

Ivy handed the midwife the second towel. Katya bore down, and the second one slipped out, then squalled. “Luka,” said Katya. “My husband’s father was Luke.”

“Good names,” said the midwife. “Now, put Luka to your breast. He is hungry baby.” She was right; Luka snuffled into her left breast, and soon caught on and sucked.

“Good boy,” said Gregory, stroking his son’s head.

“Now, get doctor,” said the midwife. “Is about to get very messy.”

Ivy pressed the call button. “Need an OB-GYN in this room,” she said. “A visitor just gave birth to twins.”

Ivy stuck her head out the door. “Katya just had twins. Some doctors and nurses…”

A nurse rushed up. “ID, please,” said Herja. The nurse held up her ID, which read “Simmons.” “Go on in, Simmons," said Herja. She was a wide woman; Ivy stepped back.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I’ll get Doctor Yan.”

Another nurse stuck her head in. “Who are you? You don’t have privileges here.”

Ivy stepped forward, forcing her to step back. “First of all, the midwife arrived two minutes before the baby did. Second of all, you aren’t permitted in this room.”

Doctor Yan came rushing down the hallway in mauve scrubs with little blue storks on them; her black braid bobbing on her back. “Where’s the patient?” she said.

“All three of them are here,” said Ivy, letting the doctor in and shutting the door in the gaping nurse’s face.

“I see that,” said Doctor Yan, taking off her stethoscope, “and who do we have here?” She turned toward the wide nurse. “Get me sheets, now, and a basin.” The nurse ran out to comply.

“This is Ivan, at my right breast,” said Katya. “And Luka is the pig at my left breast.” Gregory had propped pillows under his wife’s arms so she didn’t have to support the weight of the babies.

“Came out hungry, didn’t they?” asked Doctor Yan. He said, “Apgar 5 on Ivan.” She circled around the midwife, who was massaging the little of Katya’s stomach she could reach. “Apgar 5 on little Luka, too.” She checked Katya’s vitals. “Hi, Mom. I’m Doctor Yan. These came fast?”

“I barely walk in door, and babies here,” said Katrina. “I am Katrina Tsmova. I am a licensed midwife in Las Vegas. And proud mama is Katya and proud papa is Gregory.”

“This your first one?” asked Doctor Yan. The nurse rushed in with a rubber mat and basin. The midwife took first the mat, then the basin, and positioned them between Katya’s legs. Nurse Simmons left the room.

“No, I have a daughter, Elena. She is nine. A good girl.”

“An amazing girl,” said Gregory. “She’ll be so sad she’s missing this.”

Ivy was back over next to the still-sleeping Lily. “I’ll call one of ours, or a Valkyrie, to get her here,” said Ivy.

“No,” said Katya. “We go home tonight.” She looked at Ivy. “You carry heavy burden.”

“No,” said Ivy. “For my sister, it is never a heavy burden.” They smiled at one another.

“You just had twins,” said Doctor Yan, as the afterbirth came out and Nurse Simmons wheeled in two bassinets. “So, let’s not be in a hurry to go just yet. Let’s get these babies weighed and cleaned up. Gregory, do you want to cut the cords?”

“Yes,” he said. He cut each cord carefully. “I’ll go with them,” said Gregory.

“We’ve got Katya,” said Ivy.

“You don’t…” said Doctor Yan.

“Some of ours were shot today,” said Ivy. “The babies and the mom will be watched like hawks at all times, by our people,” said Ivy. “No exceptions, not even for a millisecond.”

“Are you Russian mob?” asked the nurse.

“Patricia!” said the doctor, glaring at her.

“No, is valid question,” said Katya, as Gregory took the cord and Ivy snapped pictures. “We are part of motorcycle club, called the Nighthawks. Some bad people try to kill Ivy here and shoot Ace. And shoot poor Lily here, and she lost her baby just today. They help bring down terrible woman from cartel with Polizia. Now bad people very angry, want to kill us.”

“I see,” said the doctor. “Do you want me to call the police?”

“Already spoke to them,” said Ivy. “Sheriff Xenia was already here and left.”

Doctor Yan stood. “That idiot Avery come by?”

“Already being taken care of. I called a lawyer. He drew a gun on me, right in this hospital, on camera.”

The doctor stared at her. “I take it you weren’t pointing one at him?” She carefully lifted a baby and put him in the bassinet. She wrote “Luka” on the side on a blue card.

“Nope,” said Ivy. “I called Eddie Flores.”

Doctor Yan put Ivan in his bassinet as she barked out a laugh. “That idiot pulled a gun on Eddie when he was walking a Hispanic down the street… with his two kids nearby.”

“Ugh,” said Ivy. “Eddie said he’d review the tape and press charges soon.”

“Good,” said Doctor Yan. “Now, let’s do a quick weigh on the babies. If you feel well enough, you can take a shower. Or, Daddy can do a sponge bath. Oops, forgot Daddy was coming with us.”

The nurse, doctor, and Gregory took the babies to be weighed and cleaned while the midwife and Ivy got Katya into the shower. There was a seat in the shower. Katya sent away the midwife and stripped, and Ivy helped Katya to wash. Ivy found more towels, and dried herself and Katya, then got Katya into another maternity nightgown.

By the time Ivy redressed herself and walked out, there was a special maternity bed in the room. The midwife helped Ivy get Katya into the bed and situated, then a hospital vampire took blood. The babies were rolled back in, and Gregory helped Katya feed them again. They were squalling with hunger. Doctor Yan did a quick check on Katya, the midwife said goodbye, and Ivy went over to hold Lily’s hand once more. She found another ugly pink chair, the first one having vanished. She sat down for the long haul. She ordered a cot from a nurse.

“For Daddy?” the nurse asked.

“For me,” said Ivy. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They got a call from Herja. Ace was out of surgery. They had him in a recovery room, still out cold. Devastator was watching him.

It was getting dark when Gregory came in with two, tiny, baby carriers, the kind that clicked into car seat bases, and put the sleeping babies into them. Ivy went over and kissed their little heads.

“So proud of you, brother,” said Ivy to Gregory, and held his middle as he balanced one baby in each carrier in each huge hand.

“What am I, the liver chopped?” asked Katya. Ivy kissed her cheeks and hugged her, too.

Doctor Yan checked Katya out one last time, and a nurse came with a wheelchair to wheel her away. There was a Valkyrie just outside the door, chatting with Herja. Placed to walk them to their car and lead the way. She was tall and blonde, with blue on the tips of her hair. An Iron Knight was there as well. He was stocky and a full head shorter than her, with a mane of blue-black hair. Ivy waved goodbye as they all headed toward the elevator.

“That’s Goll and her husband, Tumult. She’ll ride ahead and he’ll ride behind,” said Herja.

“Awesome,” said Ivy. “Can someone get me some sandwiches or cheese sticks or something? I need to eat.”

“Coke,” said Herja.

“Fuckin’ A,” said Ivy.

“I’ll call Myst. She’s got no second, so she’s the runner tonight,” said Herja.

“Give her my thanks.” She took a twenty out of her pocket and gave it to Herja. “Tell her to get stuff until this money runs out. There’s a tiny refrigerator here and I’m sure there’s a break room somewhere with a microwave.”

“Awesome,” said Herja.

“And break someone over your knee if you must, but get Ace in here. Stupid to have two guards for one married couple.”

“Already happening,” said Herja. “In fact, we…”

Ivy held the door open as they wheeled in Ace. He was dead white. His shoulder had some sort of pack attached. There were a lot of wires, and three machines being pushed by three different nurses. A doctor in burgundy scrubs followed him in and made sure everything was set up properly.

“I’m Doctor Daniel Taim,” he said. “I’m a specialist. I drove up from Las Vegas. The bullet fragmented and, to be blunt, tore up his shoulder. He is stable and will make a full recovery, with eighty to ninety percent use of his new titanium shoulder.”

“RoboAce,” said Ivy.

“What?” asked the doctor.

“His name is Ace, and now he has a robotic shoulder,” said Ivy. “I’m Ivy, the sister, and this is Lily, his wife, also shot, in the abdomen. She lost their baby, today.”

“My God,” said Doctor Taim. “That’s horrible.”

“Way past horrible,” said Ivy. “Her brother was killed in the shootout that got Ace here. We’ve got guards on the door because we think there are more shooters on the way.”

“I spoke to a Sheriff Xenia…”

“Just call her Xenia,” said Ivy. “She prefers it that way.”

“She has the bullet fragments. She says she’s putting two and two together, and so far, comes up with four. She says six and eight aren’t far behind. What did she mean by that?”

“That the shooters that did the shooting are dead, and we’re trying to find out who sent them.”

“Find out fast,” said Doctor Taim. “Both my patient and that lady over there need peace and rest.”

“Normally I wouldn’t say this, but keep them medicated,” said Ivy. “They need sleep rather than worrying over what happened, or about each other. Neither one of them will sleep if the other one is awake.”

“Will do,” said Doctor Taim. He looked at Lily’s chart. “See a similar notation for her. Good. We’ll let them sleep. Tomorrow is early enough to deal with this.”

“Never is early enough to deal with this,” said Ivy. “But, we deal with the cards we’re dealt.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” said Doctor Taim.

Vigil

They wheeled in a second cot when Numa arrived with Sonic chicken bites, mozzarella sticks, and Coke. Ivy didn’t want to eat; both Lily and Ace were so pale, unmoving. She forced her favorite food down; it tasted like sawdust to her. Ivy curled up on the cot next to Ace and held his hand, the one without the tubes running out of it, on the side away from the blasted shoulder. She stroked his hand, talked to him, told him it would be alright. She told him that Lily was fine, and so was she. Numa did the same with Lily, her voice low.

Ivy slipped into sleep at Numa’s lullaby, a Paiute song she’d heard Numa sing before. She dreamed of desert lands and cairns of water hiding in folds of red rock. She woke up around three in the morning, and Numa was still singing. She asked to switch, and so Numa did, singing a different song over Ace while Ivy held Lily’s hand. Ivy had no idea how she managed to sleep, but this time she dreamt of hawks circling in the sun.

Lily woke first, and Ivy held her as she cried for her brother. “He was a fuckup, you know?”

“I know,” said Ivy.

“Damn near pulled my hair out over him. He cost me my scholarship, did you know that? I busted my ass for my grades, and he got in a bike accident fucking around while he was drunk and high. Busted his arm in two places, his ankle. Couldn’t walk. He kept his scholarship after that one,” she said, as Ivy handed her tissues. “But I lost mine, that stupid son-of-a-bitch. He cost me two extra years in school. Stupid bastard was trying to make amends to me,” said Lily. “I would have been happy with his staying sober.”

“I know,” said Ivy, stroking Lily’s hair.

“He got killed,” she choked out, “because he wanted to make things right with me.”

Ivy put her hand on the back of Lily’s neck, touched foreheads with her, and looked her in the eyes. “No, he’s dead because some coward tried to take a shot at Ace and me, and got him instead. Shot him on the back of the head. Both of the shooters are dead, now.”

“They?” Ivy let her go and handed her tissues. “They killed my baby!” She shook with grief then. Ivy scooted over and held her as she wept for both her brother and her child.

Unfortunately, Ace woke up when she was crying. “Lily?” he said.

“Hush,” said Numa. “She’s alive. She got shot by the same bastards.”

“Where?” asked Ace.

“Gut shot,” said Numa. He stared at her, uncomprehending. “She got shot? I’ve got to go to her.”

“Lay down, idiot,” she said. “Your shoulder must heal. You have pins and things in you. Don’t move anything. I will be your bridge.” Numa held Lily’s hand in one of hers and Ace’s in the other, as the conduit between them.

“That’s really, horrifically bad,” said Ace, just catching on. “Our baby?”

“Is gone,” said Numa. “I sang the songs.”

Ace shook, tears falling from his eyes. Ivy handed Numa a wad of tissues, and Numa wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Hush, little one,” she said. “There will be children. Your wife also lost her brother, and her grief will be terrible for some time. Cry now, and wash your grief away so you may love your wife through hers.”

He cried for a while, as Lily’s sobs subsided. “The guys who did this?”

“Both dead,” said Numa. “Our people hunt the rest.” She sighed. “So much pointless death.” She waved her hand. “For what? Revenge? Drugs? Money? Those things mean nothing. Fools. This is what is real. A man. A woman. Family. Friends. We will clean up the mess others have made, allowing evil people to prosper when it is obvious the last thing we need in this world is, in fact, more evil. Those that do this will suffer, perhaps die. And all for nothing.”

“Someone has to clean it up,” said Ivy. “It shouldn’t be us, but it is. And we won’t falter until the job is done.” She stroked Lily’s head. “What pisses me off is that you had nothing to do with this, Lily. Not a damn thing. I am so sorry you paid the price.”

“The innocent always suffer,” said Numa, “but we will fight back. It may seem foolish because more scorpions replace those under our boots. But, we have the boots to crush them, so we must.”

Lily held her stomach. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she said to Ace. “Ivy and I were just talking, and I didn’t see the gun guys until Ivy shoved me back. She shot the guy. I remember that. Then a ping, and pain.”

“Ricochet,” said Ivy. “I shot fast, but his bullet hit something, a tray table, a bed. Probably the bed.”

“Can’t outrun a bullet,” said Ace. “You did nothing wrong, baby. That asshole did the bad thing.”

“Our people are tracing the last two numbnuts; the agents north and south of the border didn’t get,” said Ivy. “Wraith and Saber are on it, too, along with the Valkyries and the Iron Knights.”

“They’ll get them,” said Numa. “You two just relax and heal. Sleep some more. We can get you more medication to help.”

“Sleep, baby,” said Ace. “Our people will find the bad people.”

“You too,” said Lily. “I can’t think of it now, but we’ll want to try again. And you’ve gotta be all healed to do that.”

“We’ll both sleep,” said Ace.

Ivy got out from under Numa’s arm, and got them both water; she wiped down their faces with the wet wipes Numa brought. She kissed both of them on the head, stroked their hair, and hummed a little bit. The nurse came in, checked vitals, a bloodsucker came by and took blood, the doctor came by and pronounced both of them still alive but needing sleep, and the nurse delivered sleep meds.

Ivy stuck her head out the door and saw Devastator. “I need something,’ she said. “Don’t care what, but I need food.”

“On it,” he said. Soon, a Valkyrie came by, her hair in blue-black braids on one side of her head, puffed up on the other.

“I’m Sigrun,” she said, “means victory rune.” She had breakfast sandwiches for Numa and Ivy. Ivy ate hers in the hall and downed some soda. “How are you holding up?” asked Sigrun.

“Not well, not too bad though,” said Ivy. Sigrun gave her a second drink. “Don’t get stupid and get dehydrated,” she said.

“Okay,” said Ivy, meekly downing the water. Then, Numa came out to wolf hers down. They both washed up in the bathroom and wiped themselves down with wet wipes. They went back to sleep on the cots, Ivy now the conduit between Ace and Lily.

They woke up in the afternoon when Ghost and Killa replaced them. Numa and Ivy rented a hotel room close by and took turns taking a shower. Ivy was shattered to find out she still had blood in her hair and spent some time crying in the shower.

Xenia showed up with a six-pack of lemon-lime soda. “Don’t want to interfere with your sleeping. How you two holding up?” she asked.

“Like shit,” said Ivy.

“I have good news,” Xenia said. “One of your teams headed by an ATF guy called Wraith, and one of ours from Vegas, took down the originator of the hit, a nasty piece of work named Werner Banatas. He’s a cartel assassin. The Texans have him and are tying him to several murders. Texas is a death penalty state. Your guy Saber will get a promotion out of this for sure.”

Ivy snorted. “He won’t care, except if it lets him stick with Wraith.”

“She’s one of us now,” said Xenia. “Sorry about that, but the Vegas pack wouldn’t budge on that one. She’s a major prize.”

“She’s worth twenty of a lot of us,” said Ivy. “I get your point, and I think she’s one of you, too. She just felt she owed us loyalty after we took down La Diabla.”

“Again, sorry about that. We’ll do some joint rides to make up for that.” They all sipped the sodas. “On the cop end, we did match the bullets to the assassins’ guns, and have verified every aspect of what happened, including finding their rental truck they shot from.”

“Okay,” said Ivy.

“And, the lawyer is all for going after Marcel.”

“Who’s Marcel?” asked Numa.

“Baby idiot cop who drew on me in a hospital corridor when I was guarding Lily,” said Ivy.

Numa drew herself up. “You tell that lawyer to do whatever the hell he wants. The club will pay him.”

“Good to know,” said Xenia, “But, it’s kind of a slam dunk. It was caught by two separate cameras. He never identified himself as a police officer, and he kept the gun on her after I arrived and told him to put it away. He’s already been fired, and your lawsuit will keep him from working law enforcement again. Mama has money, too, so you should be able to get some damages and pay court costs.”

“Good,” said Ivy. “Now, I’m going to be rude and tell you to get the fuck out of here. I am tired and angry, and sick with worry. Sleeping is probably off the table, but pacing won’t help either.”

“I’ll hit you over the head with a rock so that you may sleep,” said Numa. “Thank you for bringing the info.”

“Wish I could do more,” said Xenia. “We can swing by the hospital, but keeping someone on you full-time will cost us, people, we just don’t have. The Valkyries and Iron Knights will pick up the slack until we can get Ace moved. From what the doctor told me, another twenty-four hours minimum. Don’t want to jostle the pins and things in him. We caught one, but there’s a very dangerous couple out there heading in this direction.”

“Fuckity fuck,” said Ivy. “We can go back?”

Numa grabbed her arm. “We need to stay put. Can’t defend anyone without recuperating ourselves. And you got the brunt of it. Go lay down.”

“Thank you for helping us,” said Ivy.

“I wish I could turn back the clock and have this not have happened,” said Xenia. She grabbed the back of Ivy’s head, and Ivy grabbed her head. They touched foreheads. “Get some sleep, sister,” said Xenia. She hugged Numa as well. “Rest, sister.”

“Will do,” said Ivy. Xenia let her go and left the hotel room.

“It’ll be easy to sleep,” said Ivy. “This is the most boring, sand-colored hotel room I’ve ever seen.” Numa laughed. Ivy fell onto the bed on the right and was out nearly before her head hit the pillow.

They went back to the hospital at three am after hitting up an all-night waffle house for pecan waffles. A nurse tried to bitch at them about it not being visiting hours.

“They are family, and we’re part of the protection,” said Ivy. “Don’t ever try to interfere with us again.” The woman huffed and went to call a doctor.

There was an Iron Knight at the door who introduced himself as Demon. He had wild, black hair and was huge, dwarfing both Numa and Ivy.

“Thank you,” said Ivy.

“Got my eye on a Valkyrie. Hoping she notices I was here. She likes to tease me. She said that if the bad guys come, I can just fall on them.”

“Good luck with that,” said Ivy, and Numa and Ivy went into Ace and Lily’s room. Ghost and Killa were sitting on the ugly pink chairs, the extra beds in the corner, laptops on their laps. That was such a strange thing to see that Ivy nearly tripped over her own feet.

“What you doing?” asked Ivy.

“Picking out parents,” said Ghost. “We got the idea from Katya.”

Ivy pulled up an ugly green chair and plopped down, while Numa went to sing over Ace. “What idea?”

Ghost said, “Katya says, she drop babies so fast the midwife almost wasn’t there to catch them babies. She gonna wait six weeks, and get healed up. Then get Ace and Lily to drop their sperm and egg and put it in herself. Surrogate, she said. For free.”

“But I heard,” said Killa, in her soft voice, “that you can get paid for it. Would suck in the summa, cain’t get no beer, but it only nine months. Can get paid for carryin’ someone else’s kid.”

“And, get this,” said Ghost. “Lotta black folk be needin’ our services. Lesbian, too.”

Ivy touched her own stomach. Both she and Callie were pregnant, but only a few months. Neither one of them were showing yet; Callie because of her frame and Ivy because of her jeans. She had considered, just for a moment, giving one of the babies to the heartbroken Lily. Ace had donated the sperm. But, they were using their own eggs. Ivy just couldn’t do it, give up one of her own. Not even in this horrible situation.

“That’s good,” said Ivy. “You pick anyone yet?”

“We lookin’ at a lesbian couple,” said Ghost. “Get this, one mama be a judge.” She laughed. “All dis time spent keepin’ my head down, an’ I may be workin’ for a judge. Don’ wanna be like my mama. She die in prison. Da cancer got her. She was a runner, sometimes a stripper.”

“I’m sorry about your mama,” said Ivy.

“Long time ago,” said Ghost. “Bonnie our mama now.”

“What does Bonnie say about this idea?” asked Ivy.

Killa said, “We can work on the bikes, but we gotta wear masks to protect da baby. And special aprons if we workin’ on soldering.”

“Sounds good,” said Numa, walking over to sing over Lily. “These people need a baby, and you can help them have one.”

“We gonna start the process,” said Ghost. “We at a hospital, we can get da medical paper heah.”

“Good idea,” said Ivy.

“We gonna buy us a condo,” said Killa. “Near the club. Got our eye on one, some meth heads done trashed it. We gonna fix it up. By the time the babies come, we have it ready.”

“Babies?” asked Ivy.

“We do what you did,” said Ghost. “Two at once. Twice the cash. We have the condo money in no time.”

Ivy considered loaning them the money, but they had a good plan. “You see me if you need the down payment money. You can pay me back when the babies show up.”

“T’anks,” said Ghost. “We be thinkin’ about it.”

Ghost and Killa left, after touching Lily’s face and Ace’s good shoulder. “Ya’ll get betta,” said Ghost, “real fas.’ We got no club without you two.” They left.

Ivy pulled up the beds and set them up. “I’m stunned,” she said to Numa.

“They’re smart,” said Numa, “and they’re doing a service for infertile couples.”

“Katya did drop those babies very easily,” said Ivy, straightening the sheet and inadequate pillows. “It was surreal; the babies coming out with Ace in surgery and Lily unconscious. I was stunned. The doctor made it in after the babies were born.”

“She would be a good surrogate if birth goes that well for her,” said Numa. “I’m just sorry there’s a need for it. I hope that gunshot heals and that she can get pregnant later.”

“I hope so too.” Ivy laid down on the bed. “I don’t think I can sleep, but I know I’m still tired.”

“I brought my tablet,” said Numa. “Read. Watch something dumb on TV. Relax. You’re climbing out of your skin.”

“I want to go back to Vegas and be in on the search for the killers, but I know that’s stupid. I’m pregnant, and I’m not law enforcement like Wraith, Saber and Xenia.”

“How do you know her?” asked Numa, handing over the tablet and pointing to the screen. “You can download library books on that program there. Just search for what’s available. Putting something on hold won’t help you now.”

“Who? Xenia?” asked Ivy, laying back on the cot. “Met her two years ago on a ride to raise money for prostheses for wounded veterans.”

“The ride successful?” asked Numa, settling herself in on a pink chair with her knitting.

“I think we ended up paying for thirty 3D printed ones, and ten standard ones.”

“I was probably visiting my friend in Lake Havasu then. We should do another rally to raise money for that.” She laughed. “We can make it to Lake Havasu, and I can see Jute all over again!” she laughed.

“Good idea,” Ivy said, sending a text to Tito and Gregory to see if they could join one, or set one up after the current crisis ended.

She found a book on motorcycles and another fiction book about a woman tending bar in a small town. She downloaded both and began to read.

Lily woke up, thirsty, in physical pain, and crying. Ivy gave her water and called the nurse. The nurse gave her a shot while Ivy wiped her face with a wet wipe. She continued to cry. Ivy held her. The nurse went to get a sedative so Lily could rest. Ivy rocked her back and forth until the pain meds began to work, and then stroked her hair. Numa sang over her. The doctor came in and checked her incision, then ordered a sedative. She slept again.

Ace slept on. He roused himself for a drink from time to time. Neither patient wanted food; Lily was too heartbroken, and Ace said he was in too much pain and had some nausea. He fell back asleep after another dose of pain and anti-nausea meds.

Ivy left Numa singing over her charges and took a ride to a casino. She got bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches, small bowls of clam chowder, and three large sodas. She brought them back to the hospital. She gave some of the food to the giant on the door, and she went in to chow down with Numa. They both ate and took turns taking naps to keep an eye on both of them.

There were new rounds of doctors and bloodsuckers. Numa patiently explained to the hospital staff to quit bringing food that no one was eating.

“The doctor ordered it,” the nurse said.

“Don’t care,” said Numa, “quit bringing it until one of them asks for it. They’re in incredible pain, and they’re grieving terrible losses. I would actually be stunned if they wanted to eat. We don’t, but we know we must do it to be of service to these two. We’ll hold onto the jello until one of them desires something to eat.” The nurse huffed off.

“Not too bright, are they?” asked Numa.

Ivy laughed. “If it isn’t hospital policy, they’d have no idea what to do.”

“We need to get out of here,” said Numa. “They need to heal soon.”

“They’re sleeping and on meds,” said Ivy. “I think that’s the best they can do.”

Killa and Ghost brought a sack of games, magazines, books, and puzzles. “We got Uno,” said Killa. “I gonna whoop this here woman’s ass.”

Ivy laughed. “Go for it.”

Ivy and Numa went back to the hotel room. Ivy felt filthy and showered. She called and caught up with Tito, who was still making sure the children were guarded. They had been brought back to Henry’s farm and were having fun with the horses and rabbits. Grace was being spoiled at the farmhouse.

Callie was sad and furious. “You gotta come home to me,” she said.

“It won’t be long now,” she said.

“How could this happen? Again? We haven’t done anything wrong! Lily must be a mess.”

“She is. Ace sleeps a lot, and so does she. Neither one of them will eat.”

“I wouldn’t be able too, either,” said Callie. “I am so worried. I’m as jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

Ivy laughed. “I get that. Just relax. Wraith is on the warpath, and she’s with a pissed-off Valkyrie. If anyone can handle this, they can.”

“Whoever did this is super-stupid,” said Callie. “Who gets motorcycle gangs pissed at them? And now they’ve gone and pissed off the Valkyries. They are in for a world full of hurt.”

“Can’t happen soon enough,” said Ivy. “I need your skin on my skin.”

“Are you eating well? Getting enough to drink?”

“Of course, baby,” said Ivy. “I’m angry and exhausted and heart sick, but not stupid.”

“Try to sleep,” said Callie. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” said Ivy.

Ivy made a last call to Gregory. He answered it in two rings, a baby squalling in the background. “Everything okay?” asked Gregory. “Ace and Lily healing?”

“Slowly,” said Ivy. “How are the babies I helped deliver?”

“Loud,” said Gregory. “We all sleep when they do. We’ve got protection on the house in case someone tries us here, but I’ll just hold a screaming baby with a poopy diaper at the bad guys, and they’ll run like rabbits.”

Ivy laughed. “Kiss them for me,” she said, “and sent pictures to my cell.”

“Will do,” said Gregory. He hung up mid-squall.

Ivy watched a TV program so stupid that she was able to fall asleep to the click-click of Numa’s needles. Numa put a blanket over her and changed the channel. Soon, she slept as well, from sheer boredom.

When Ivy woke, Numa forced her to put on shorts and a tank, and exercise to a YouTube video.

“This is so fucking hard,” said Ivy.

“Duh,” said Numa. “This is interval training. Move those feet.”

They showered and went to a waffle house for pecan waffles, orange juice, and bacon. When they got to the hospital, Killa and Ghost had cut up and taped together a cardboard box and were putting together a huge puzzle of a Harley. They sucked on waters and completed the puzzle together. Ivy was stunned when Killa produced a frame and glue. They framed it, and Killa poured on the glue. They cackled over it, and set it in a corner to dry.

“Lily cried some more. She ate a little and she went to sleep. Gave her some puddin,’” said Ghost. “Dumb-ass nurse wanted to get her to walk, but I run her off. I say she walk later, let her sleep. Sure ‘nuff, she woke up and we got her into da showa. She clean now. Cried up a storm, but she woke up ‘nuff to watch some show. We got her some roll an’ butter, an’ applesauce, an’ she ate it right up. Tired her up real-good.”

“We give this puzzle to her. She say, put it up in the shop. It a trike like what we make,” said Killa.

“Great job,” said Ivy. “Now, get outta here.” They hugged, and Killa and Ghost were gone. They took the puzzle with them, afraid a passing nurse would throw it away.

“Bonnie is raising them up good,” said Numa.

“Looks like,” said Ivy.

“We got a fantasy castle, dogs playing poker, and a waterfall,” she said, pawing through the boxes of puzzles.

“Waterfall,” said Ivy. They put it together and put on a silly program. They stopped for Numa to sing over the patients, then they resumed their vigil. Numa found a podcast about rock legends to listen to, and Ivy got a text about a rally for The Wounded Warriors project later in the year. Tito reported in; all was well. Both patients woke up, ate applesauce, drank water, and slept again. Ivy laid between them on the cot not taken up by a puzzle, listened to the podcast, and held Lily’s hand and Ace’s. She was a conduit between them. Numa sang, and Ivy slept as well, holding on to two of the people she loved most in the world, willing them to heal with all her might.

“Sometimes people assassinate the mind. Others gun for the soul.”

2

Moving Forward

“Hunts require hunters and quarries… and paths to follow.”

Hunt

Wraith decoded the text message from her contact, a DEA agent. “Got them,” she said.

Rota finished her chicken taco and licked her fingers. “How close?”

“Close,” said Wraith.

Her hair now had braids like Rota, but hers were on the opposite side of her head. Rota had wanted to dye the ends, and Wraith settled on crimson fading into purple. It looked stunning.

“They are heading to Vegas, but taking side trips into the Arizona countryside.”

“Why?” asked Rota, finishing her Coke. “Nothing out there but desert. And a big hole in the ground, farther north.”

“Wish they were at the Grand Canyon,” said Wraith. “We’ve got contacts there. Paiutes and Dine, and Hopi. No, they’re farther south, about an hour up the road. They’re taking back roads, and I think we’ve got them triangulated. They’re either on the 96 or the 97. They put someone in a cistern north of Prescott. Hearing they’re on bikes; she’s on a white and green Indian with leather saddlebags, him a Harley Lowrider.”

“Let’s roll,” said Rota. They threw away their trash, and they were gone.

They caught up with them in Bagdad, Arizona. The Indian was at a gas station. The Lowrider was closer in, at the convenience store. The buildings around them were low and white, surrounded by scrub brush. There was a ridge that seemed to be holding back the town from going anywhere.

Rota went into the convenience store, while Wraith topped up both bikes. She got some sodas, long-necks.

David Rayalos Talamantes had striking whiskey eyes, close-cropped dark brown hair, and a mustache and beard. His ears were flat against his head, unlike his father’s. He was wearing a short-sleeved denim shirt and jeans, with square-toed alligator boots in black and yellow. Celia Villa Cantos had red hair that went to her waist, where she caught it in a clip at the small of her back. Her gray, leather jacket screamed money, not homicidal maniac. It had ribbed sleeves and shoulders that snapped at the neck. She wore a black silk top under the jacket and black, designer jeans. Her eyes were bright with something that just wasn’t sane.

Rota paid for the sodas, then turned to Celia. Rota jutted out her chin. “Mamacita,” she said. “That’s one fine classic Indian,” she said.

Celia jutted out her own chin. “You ride Harleys? You in a gang?”

“Mama chola,” said Rota, using the Mexican street slang for a female gangbanger. “We are our own gang.”

“You a chola?” asked Celia.

“We do things,” said Rota. “Together, separate. Mostly together. The money is better together.”

“What kind of things?” asked Celia.

“What needs doing,” said Rota, putting one cola in the pocket of her vented leather jacket, and popping the top off the other. She let her eyes go flat and dangerous, for just a moment.

“We need doing,” said Celia.

“Mamacita,” said David. “We don’t know them.”

“Mi vida,” said Celia. “We’re doing business. Don’t interrupt.” She held up a crimson fingernail. “Get me some chocolate,” she said. “With nuts.” He huffed, turned, and went down the aisle.

Rota stepped closer. “If you have a job, we can do it,” she said.

“We?” asked Celia.

“Mi corazon,” said Rota, pointing her chin at Wraith. “I do knives, she does guns and knives. We like taking out the trash.”

“She any good?” asked Celia.

“She can shoot the leaf off a tree. Used to be a sniper. Wore some funny suit in the desert.”

“Ghillie suit,” said Celia. “Hides you from those looking for you. She Ex-Army?”

“Yeah. Didn’t last long. Not so good at taking orders from pendejos, you know what I mean?”

Celia laughed. “Si, I know. You looking for work?”

“Yes, but we come as a set. We’re better together, more focused.”

“It’s not distracting working with your corazon?”

Rota smiled slowly. “It is distracting working with yours?” Celia laughed. “Business is business.”

“Es verdad,” said Celia. “Can you take orders?”

“From a woman, no problem,” said Rota. “Women have sense. Not guided by their dicks.”

“Fuck,” said Celia. “You’re perfect. How many kills you got?”

“Only ten,” said Rota. “I’m better at cleanup. Wraith can kill five at once. I’ve seen her do it.”

Celia raised her eyebrows. “Impressive. And what do you use to clean up?”

“The desert can take a lot of bodies. Some bleach, gotta clean out those traps. Drano works for that. Disposable gloves. Then, go. Or, even better, make it look like one person shot another one, or some random gang thing. That works a lot.” Rota took another swig of the soda.

“Fuck,” said Celia. “You guys know your stuff.”

“We get paid, we do the job right. Quick, clean, efficient.”

“I can see that,” said Celia. “How much?”

“We got a daily rate and a job rate,” said Rota. “Daily rate means we ride with you, do what you want us to do. Job rate means we go where we’re pointed. Includes significant cleanup.”

“Daily, for five days. That include wet work and cleanup?”

“Absolutely,” said Rota. “A thousand a day, each.”

“Done,” said Celia. “Go tell your woman.”

“Cash first,” said Rota. “Then, we ride.”

Celia counted out the money. Rota nodded and gave Wraith a signal. Wraith nodded, a cruel smile coming across her lips.

“Your woman is a little scary,” said David, coming over with a box of wrapped chocolates for his woman.

“She is the best there is,” said Rota, proudly. “You lead, we follow.”

“Si,” said Celia. “No point wasting our time. Our next stop is Wagoner. We have a contact there with loose lips.”

“Not for long,” said Rota. “Wait ‘till you see my woman dance.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Celia.

They took off toward Wagoner. It was a quiet ghost town, buildings falling down. There were a few ranches. They came to a falling-down building with a red roof. David stayed on his bike, looking off into the desert. Celia got off her bike, and so did Rota. A man came out, whippet-thin, ears sticking out.

“Celia!” he said, smiling hugely. “What can I do for you?”

“Die,” said Celia. She shot him before Rota had time to react, in the gut. “Pendejo,” she said.

Rota pulled out her gun. “Shall I?”

Wraith slipped off her bike and shot Celia in her crazy head. Rota shot David as he pulled out his own gun. She then ran to Celia and realized the assassin was dead, eyes staring into nothingness, blood pooling under her head. She stepped toward the man Celia had shot, who was holding his guts and mewling. Wraith reached into her saddlebag, then threw Rota the first aid kit, and called it in. Wraith then ran to David. The bike had toppled with him as he fell; he was pinned, eyes rolling, weapon on the ground by his hand. She’d gotten him in the throat.

David out of the corner of his eye. “Beetches,” he said.

“Seriously?” said Wraith. “You’ve been riding around with a serial killer.” He breathed his last and was still. “Waste of a perfectly good Harley,” said Wraith.

“A little help here,” said Rota. They packed the wound, and literally tied him to Rota.

They sped toward the closest hospital in Prescott Valley. They met the ambulance on the way. Wraith flagged them down, then blocked them with her bike.

“What the fuck, lady?” said the driver, hopping down.

“I’m the one that called,” she said. “Your patient is tied to Rota’s back.”

A tiny woman came out of the other side of the bus. She quickly had a gurney out, and she helped untie and transfer the patient. They moved their bikes to the side of the road. The ambulance sped off.

“That’s not coming out,” complained Rota, looking at her jacket. “Can we keep the Indian?”

“Nope,” said Wraith. “But I will keep an eye out for the auction, and get it for you if you want it.”

“My girlfriend would love it,” said Rota.

“I’ll talk to my superiors,” said Wraith. “They may sell it to me directly. Then, you can have it. You had my back.”

Rota snorted. “Of course. I do. You’re a Valkyrie now, a sister. We have each other’s backs, now and forever.”

“We did it,” said Wraith, “with the shield, not on it.” She reached into her saddlebags for a bottle of water. Rota took out her own, and they drank. She slipped her credentials out of her hidden compartment as a sheriff’s deputy vehicle sped toward them.

“Be a while ‘till we get our guns back,” she said. “Sorry about that.”

“Get me the bike, and the leather and the gun will be a distant memory.”

Wraith snorted. “One is worth considerably more than the others.”

Rota smiled wickedly. “What’s money between sisters?”

It took way too long to go over what happened. The deputy, a short black-haired good ‘ol boy, didn’t comprehend why Wraith didn’t arrest Celia and David at the gas station.

“Great idea,” snorted Wraith. “A woman who likes to kill people with guns at a gas station. If she missed the clerk or the little girl in the back, she could have winged a gas tank. Then, boom.”

“What little girl?” asked Deputy Terrance.

“Pull the tapes,” said Rota. “She was two aisles over. She and her mom were skinny, wore old-fashioned dresses.”

Wraith sent several coded texts while she and Rota were questioned several times. Deputy Terrance’s boss, a huge black man named Sheriff Donner. He took one look at Wraith’s badge, quickly ran through her story, and sent them on their way, sadly minus their guns. They could hear his big, booming voice as they got on their bikes.

“Deputy Terrance,” he said, “next time you see DEA on a badge, get their story and send them on their way. Their own people will investigate them.” Wraith had to smile.

They swung by the DEA office in Phoenix. “Good work,” said Special Agent in charge, Gregorio Fornas. “Wish you could have dragged one of them alive, but it does save us from having to prosecute her. We’re still finding all her kill sites. That Indian was recognizable; eventually, we would have gotten to her if you hadn’t been protecting your witnesses.”

“Need a favor,” said Wraith. “When her Indian goes up for auction, I’d like a crack at it first. I had help, and I’d like to pay that help back.”

“I can put in a word,” said Fornas. “Quite willing, in fact.”

She put Rota in a conference room to text her sisters on her phone, and let Fornas do a quick check on her story while she did the paperwork. Fornas ordered food for them, and they consumed pulled pork sandwiches and chips and sodas. Fornas left Rota to mess with her phone while Wraith finished the last of the paperwork.

Wraith called Ivy. “Got David and Celia. We’re still looking into the lawyer. We have to nip the source of the orders, then you can stand down.”

“Thank you,” said Ivy, “we’ll keep a guard for now until we move our patients.”

“How are they?” asked Wraith.

“Fucked up,” said Ivy. “Ace’s shoulder is a mess, and Lily is heartbroken over both her brother and the baby.”

“All this pain because some people don’t care how they make their money, or how many lives they damage and destroy,” said Wraith. “Good for my job security, terrible for the rest of the world.”

“Thanks for taking out another Talamantes,” said Ivy. “Did we get all of them?”

“No,” said Wraith. “There are some more bastards, supposedly not having anything to do with the cartel.”

Ivy snorted. “Doubt that.”

“Me too,” said Wraith. “Anyway, once we crack the lawyer and smash him like a grape, you can take a breath and recover from this nonsense.”

“Smash him like a grape,” said Ivy. “Sounds great.”

“We have a nefarious plan,” said Wraith.

“Excellent,” said Ivy, “if we can help implement it, let me know.”

“I’ll let you know, but I think we’re good.”

“Thank you,” said Ivy.

“We closed a lot of cases,” said Wraith. “Except for the body count, and that’s because the crazy bitch started shooting at an individual in front of me.”

“Who was he?” asked Ivy.

“Drug mule,” said Wraith. “The sheriff just texted me that there were hidden panels in a rusted-out car in the covered parking. They tested positive for drug residue. He’s expected to live; we’ll get names from him when he wakes up.”

“Fuck,” said Ivy. “In the most remote places in Arizona.”

“The tentacles of the beast,” said Wraith. “Keeps me employed, but I’d rather feel like we’re making some progress. Cut off one tentacle, get twelve.”

“You took out a serial killer today,” said Ivy. “Count that as a win.”

“Still finding bodies,” said Wraith. “Apparently, there’s a lot of cisterns out there.”

“She wasn’t worth the price of the bullet,” said Ivy.

“One crazy bitch,” agreed Wraith. “Gotta go, have a Valkyrie to escort home.”

“Have a good ride,” said Ivy, “see you when we get back to Vegas.”

“Sonic on me,” said Wraith, and she closed the call. She stood, stretched, and went to find herself a Valkyrie to take home.

They met with the other two in Boulder City. Wraith locked up her helmet and took a slow walk to Saber, her hips going from side to side.

“Damn, woman,” said Saber. “Missed you.” They kissed, leaning up against the bike.

Rota strode to Skuld, and they clasped wrists, then held each other’s necks, and touched foreheads. “Success?” asked Skuld.

“I shot one,” Rota said.

“First kill,” said Skuld.

“In battle,” said Rota. “And, I shot him in the neck.”

“You’ll practice,” said Skuld. “Have Wraith teach you, actually. She’s a dead shot.”

Rota nodded. “I will learn.”

“Next time,” said Skuld, poking her in the skull, then the sternum, “Head shot or chest. But, you did well.”

“Of course, I did,” said Rota. “I’m a Valkyrie.” Their kiss, when it came, lasted so long that Wraith and Saber took a walk along the beach, hands in each other’s back pockets.

On their walk, Wraith and Saber stopped to kiss, walked some more, then kissed again. Skuld and Rota eventually caught up with them. They pitched tents well away from one another, made a fire, and ate grilled fish and potato salad and s’mores by the light of the moon. Wraith and Saber told stories about busts and life on the road. Skuld talked about being both a metal band member —drums and guitar, occasionally bass, and a coder and mixer for a studio. Adding teaching defense classes to police and the general public. Rota was a climbing trail guide, helping people learn to climb, from easy to impossible rock faces.

“Damn!” said Wraith. “You make me look like a lightweight.”

“You’re a crack shot,” said Skuld. “Teach Rota.”

“Anytime I’m not neck deep in alligators,” said Wraith.

Saber snorted. “We’re almost always neck deep in alligators.”

“The little ones are kinda cute,” said Rota. “Nasty boy David’s alligator boots really pissed me off. So, I shot him.”

“That’ll teach them, alligator-boot-wearing guys,” said Skuld.

“Yeah,” said Wraith. “Such a waste. Now he’s dead. Some alligator died for nothing. Those boots will probably get donated to the Salvation Army.”

“Well,” said Saber. “Now some homeless guy’s gonna be wearing thousand-dollar boots.”

Skuld sang and Rota joined in, the Pink song about being fucking perfect. Wraith started Fight Song by Rachael Patten, Confident by Demi Lavato, and they went into Meredith Brooks,’ Bitch. They ended with Beyonce’s Grown Woman.

“My God,” said Saber. “I feel so emasculated.”

“We gotta stop,” said Wraith. “Need to keep his parts, because they’re my toys for later.”

Skuld grinned. “On that note, we’d better go to bed.”

Rota stood, took Skuld’s hand, and helped her stand. They walked back to the tent, long strides eating up the ground.

They zipped the sleeping bags together, made pillows out of rolled clothes. They came together, unzipping leather with fast, confident hands. Their black and silver T-shirts were emblazoned with a woman on a horse, breastplate polished, sword held high. They took them off, and carefully rolled them up. Rota’s bra was black lace, lined with pink, and Skuld’s was all black. They stroked, licked, put fingers in each other’s mouths. Rota unhooked Skuld’s bra, then held the spill of breasts in her hands. Skuld’s breasts were round, with dark, erect nipples. Rota pinched them in her fingers, made them rise. She bent forward, and sucked each nipple, making Skuld gasp.

Skuld pulled down Rota’s underwear and thrust her fingers deep inside. Rota gasped and moaned, and bucked into the fingers, driving them deeper inside her. Skuld broke open the front snap of her bra with one hand, grasping Rota’s small breasts, then began ruthlessly kissing and sucking them. Rota arched her back, screaming. She came, gasping, sweat breaking out in between her breasts, with wetness flowing over Skuld’s fingers. Skuld made her come again, and again, screaming and gasping. Finally, Skuld took out wet wipes, wiped her fingers, wiped Rota’s wetness, and kissed her deep and slow.

Then, it was Rota’s turn, pulling off Skuld’s thong, driving her fingers into her, again and again. She bent her fingers, found the spot inside, and made Skuld groan. She pulled back on Skuld’s hair, kissed her throat, making the silver feather dangling from her ear dance. Skuld came, driving herself into Rota’s fingers. Their bodies were perfect, silhouettes of silver in the moonlight. She came again, again. Then, she took her fingers out and cleaned them both up with a wet wipe. They held each other, sitting up, legs wrapped around each other, fingers wrapped in each other’s hair, their kisses deep and slow. They went deep then, deep inside, stopping to clasp each other’s necks, touch foreheads, and stare into each other’s eyes. They slid into the sleeping bag, still holding on, entwining once more. They slid into sleep, still grasping one another in the dark.

In the morning, Saber and Wraith were still kissing. Saber ran his fingers up and down her leg. Wraith bit his lip, stroked the back of his neck, dug her claws into his tight biceps. He groaned and stroked her from her neck to her buttocks. She moaned and kissed him deeply.

He fiddled with the ends of her hair, smiling. “Love the new color. Candy lady.”

“What kind of candy?” she asked, smiling back.

“Cinnamon,” he said. “You are one spicy lady.”

“Shut up,” she said, running her claws down from his neck to his groin.

He groaned, kissed her. “I’m not sure I can do it again,” he whispered in her ear.

“Shut up,” she said again, moving her fingers to just under his balls. He groaned again, and found himself (despite his exhaustion), beginning to rise again.

She used claws, lips, and teeth; grinding his emotions into a keen razor edge, based on more than a little fear as she got very close to the family jewels with her teeth. She slid on a condom, slid herself onto him. They moved slowly, his fingers in her hair, her teeth on his neck. He came in one long gasp, ready to do whatever she needed to make her come, but she was there, too, on the edge. Magnificently, she came, gasping and wriggling into his neck, her teeth doing one last nibble. They held onto each other, gasping, and she slid off of him, reaching blindly for the few wet wipes left. She wiped them both down, and they fell as if they were timber, onto the sleeping bag.

“Woman,” he said, “you’re trying to kill me.”

“Absolutely,” she said. “You’ve found my secret. Sex kills, you know.”

He laughed into her neck. “You won’t get anything, you know. No life insurance to speak of. We’re not married yet.”

She stilled under his hands. She grasped the back of his head. “If you marry me, understand that this is a freedom. You can walk away at any time. Just know, if you go, I’m going to walk away, too. If you stay, you’ll have my love, my life, my all. I will breathe breaths with you. I will walk the same path, as much as I can, but never in your same steps, and never behind you. We’re equals, or we are nothing. Choose. Choose wisely. I have one of the strongest hearts. If you break it, I will survive. But, if you do, you lose the best woman you have ever had, or will have, now and forever.”

He looked into her eyes, willing himself not to make a mistake due to exhaustion. “I will love and cherish you, and wait for you if you go, and keep the light on for you. I will never walk ahead of you, always beside you. I will be here for you, every day, now and forever.” She smiled, and his heart stopped with her beauty. “Let’s get married,” he said.

“Yes,” she said.

“Love you,” he said.

“Always,” she said.

By the time they made it out of the tent, the Valkyries had already stowed their tent.

“Good morning,” said Rota. Wraith stepped forward, and they did the Valkyrie neck embrace.

They touched foreheads. “You can ride with me anytime,” said Wraith.

“Teach me,” said Rota.

“I will,” said Wraith. “Sisters always.”

“Always,” said Rota.

Skuld came up. She clasped Wraith’s arm. “I’ll ride with you anytime,” she said.

“And I with you.”

She turned to Wraith. “Sister,” she said.

“Always,” said Wraith. They did the head clasp and forehead touch. “We came back with our shields,” said Wraith.

“Not on them,” said Skuld.

“I ride later,” said Wraith, letting her go. “I have a second.”

Both Rota and Skuld clasped her arms. “Sister,” said Skuld. “That is good.”

“Good riding,” said Rota.

“Good riding,” said Wraith. They walked out with their packs, filled up their saddlebags, and left.

“So,” said Wraith, as she put her arm around his waist, and Saber put an arm around her shoulder, “should we have more sex?”

Saber laughed so loud, people could have heard him on the other side of the lake. “Woman, I can’t even roll up the sleeping bag. We’re sleeping in.”

“Fuck,” said Wraith. “I thought I’d get one more out of you.”

“Woman,” said Saber. “I can’t marry you if you kill me.”

They kissed and went to fall into bed as the sun kissed the top of the tent.

Vegas Time

It took two more days, but eventually, Ace was cleared to move, by ambulance, to Vegas. There was a private recovery hospital with a private wing the Iron Knights and law enforcement used to hide people. The patients were referred to by number, not name; everyone was “Smith” or “Jones.” So, Mr. Jones with shoulder immobilization and Mrs. Jones, recovering from a miscarriage, were in a special, private room. It was set up more like an actual bedroom, complete with a double hospital bed, a little sitting area with a couch and two recliners, and three cots lined up against the wall like sentinels.

Ace and Lily settled into the bed. They were allowed to wear either scrubs or sweats. Ace went for ancient sweats and Lily for maroon scrubs. They got situated and were both given pain shots to deal with pain from the two-and-a-half-hour trip from Vegas. They slept, and Numa brought them potato bacon soup and crusty bread and butter.

“Thank you so much,” said Lily, “I need real food.”

“I agree,” said Numa. “You’ll be able to move long before him, so let me show you what’s what. The fridge is half size. The microwave will take a whole chicken. I’ll keep the casserole contingent from bringing you tuna surprise.”

Lily barked out a laugh. “Bless you!” she said. “We’d throw that crap out, and it would get wasted. Probably piss someone off, too.”

Numa laughed. “Probably. I’ll be in charge of the fridge until you start giving me orders. We’ll start with soups and bread. We have tomato basil and grilled cheese, all ready to grill on this little grill plate, here, tomorrow. We’ve also got minestrone, clam chowder, and chicken tortilla. It’s all labeled in single serve containers. There’s more of those rolls, and biscuits in a can. And real butter, and goat cheese from the ladies, oh, and crackers.”

“Bless the goats,” said Lily.

“Yaaa,” bleated Ace, proving he was following along just fine. Lily and Numa laughed. “I also cheated and put frozen pizzas and burritos in the freezer.”

“Thank God for frozen food,” said Ace.

“Word,” said Lily, making Numa laugh.

“I even left you ice cream. The doctor said you can have the fruit bars, and I went to the frozen yogurt place and got single servings of every flavor they had. I’m partial to the peach-chocolate swirl myself.”

“Peanut butter rocks,’ said Lily.

“It does,” said Numa. “You’ve also got fruit juices, water, and milk.”

“Bless you,” said Lily.

“I wish I could reverse time,” said Numa. “I am just happy we could do something for you. The kids grew all the fruits and veggies in labeled containers in there. Feel free to freeze and reheat.”

“Tell everyone ‘hi’ for me,” said Lily.

“Will do,” said Numa. “The little fridge next to your bed has drinks, and snack packets in a basket on top.”

“I think I love you,” said Lily, in a pathetic over-the-top voice. Everyone laughed.

“If you need anything, buzz Kevin. He’s your nurse. But otherwise, here’s the remote.” Numa handed over the remote control to the flat-screen TV, to Ace.

“I have the power,” said Ace, making a muscle with his good arm. Lily laughed.

“Good night,” said Numa.

“Night,” said Ace and Lily. She shut the door.

“Thank fuck we’re finally alone,” said Ace.

“Whatever shall we do with our time, Mr. Smith?”

“What do you want to do, Mrs. Smith?”

“Watch Netflix,” she said, and she snatched the remote. He laughed and put his good arm around her.

The “bad” arm still had an IV with a steady drip of medication. He laid back, stunned at his weakness. He was exhausted, and all he’d done was wake up, get checked up and checked out, and moved in an ambulance to the new facility. Then eat. He felt Lily lay on his shoulder, and the first bar of the show she’d picked came on. He slept.

Numa kept vigil. She’d just pretended to leave. She had them on a monitor, mostly for protection, and partially to keep track of their needs. She could turn the monitor off, of course, if sex entered the picture, but they were both in too much pain for that, both physically and mentally.

She had her own little room next door, complete with bed, TV, bathroom, and a little sitting room of her own. She had plenty of wool to card, now that the “goat girls” had rescued alpacas, or “half-size llamas,” to raise. Some idiot had nearly starved them. They were recuperating quickly, their soft fur growing back.

Nantan was more than happy to buy their fertilizer for killer compost he used for the potted plants. One had been shorn, and Numa had a lovely bag of soft llama fur to work with. Nantan grew hay for them, and they were happy and very docile. Aquene and Bianca were over the moon with alpaca love and were happy to help Jaci and Nova with them. The bags of fiber had been washed, and she had separated the coarser leg and belly fiber for rugs from the softer stuff. She carded the softer fiber and spun it on a small spinning wheel. She listened to her favorite podcasts while she spun.

When Ace and Lily were both asleep, she slipped into their room, turned off Netflix, and made sure they were covered by a sheet and a light blanket. She made sure they had plenty of water to drink in their cups with straws. The nurse slipped in to check the monitors and the flow of pain meds, nodding at Numa. He was carefully vetted, a wiry but strong Ex-Army nurse named T.J., with battlefield experience. The Iron Nights had finally ended their courtship with him successfully, and he was the proud owner of a nice Harley Lowrider. T.J. had wiry black hair, dark eyes, and dark skin tinted with red. Numa wondered which parent was Native, and from which nation, and which was of African or Caribbean descent.

T.J. followed Numa back to her room. “Love working here,” he said. Numa gave him a cup of coffee, which he accepted gracefully. “Less hospital, more homely. It’s like a plane. Why can’t all the seats be like business class, with some pods for the truly elite? Must people be stacked like cordwood? Same here. Why not an actual living space? Doesn’t make it less sterile.”

“I agree,” said Numa.

“They’re fine,” he said. “What they need is rest, pain meds, and a long, slow recovery.”

“We may need to hit Ace in the head with a rock to make that work,” said Numa.

“He has a wife to protect,” said T.J. “They used that on me when I lost the foot. I needed to heal to be a good husband for her. Now, I move nearly as well, even with big, heavy patients. Doesn’t slow me down, even with Tyler.”

“Who is Tyler?” asked Numa, sipping her own coffee.

“My son. He’s two, and a handful. Driving Jack, my husband, nuts. He is helpless during the temper tantrums.”

“Did you tell Tyler that he has big emotions, and he should just wait for them to go away?”

“I did,” said T.J., “but, he has a two-year-old’s sense of time. Everything is happening right now.”

“I’ve been riding herd on a ton of teens,” said Numa. “Kind of the same thing. Huge emotions, lots of drama over mostly nothing. They learn fast, though. We’ve got a farm, hydroponics, rescue horses.” She laughed. “I have a trading post on the Paiute res. The teens are providing the labor while I’m here, with my cousin Mica riding herd on them. Some of our former graduates are raising goats and now alpacas.”

“Ah,” he said. “So, the spinning…”

“So, the spinning,” she said. She pointed to a little webcam. “I’m walking them through on video, step by step, on how to card and spin. Nothing else to do, anyway. Those girls are going to be responsible for the next ones. The alpacas should have been shaven before summer. They’re rescues. We lost quite a bit of fiber due to matting. Idiots who had them before were negligent. Makes me mad enough to spit.” She laughed. “They spit at each other, you know. Don’t want to be nearby when they do it.”

T.J. smiled. “Here’s my cell number,” he said, handing her a card. “Or, press the call button in your room. The cell is for just talking. My partner is a weaver.”

“Dine?” asked Numa, the word for Navajo.

“Yes, both my mom and I are from St. Kitts. She’s got the most beautiful voice. Talking or singing, it’s like music. My dad took one look at her and fell like a stone.”

“Smart man,” said Numa. “Your partner may wish to buy the leg and belly fiber for rugs. It’s been washed, carded, and conditioned.” She handed up the bag. He stroked the fleece.

“Lovely,” he said.

“It’s not the highest quality. In a year, when all our animals have had better nutrition, it will be better. So, half the price of thirty dollars a pound, and that’s one and a half pounds.”

He took the money out of his wallet and handed it to her. He took the bag. “Don’t you want me to spin it?” she asked.

He laughed. “And interrupt her audiobook fun? Hell, no.” He stood up from the couch. “Have fun, and get hold of me at once if you see anything on your nanny cam there I should know.”

“I will, T.J.,” she said. He smiled and left quietly to check on his other patients, with his new bag of fleece in hand.

Ghost and Killa replaced her in the morning. She rested while they determined which lesbian couple would be the recipients of their surrogacy.

“Already got a few lined up,” said Killa, proudly.

“Good to know,” said Numa, putting a mask over her face and noise-canceling headphones in her ears. She was out like a light.

Killa and Ghost went next door to make breakfast for the couple when they started stirring. Killa helped Lily to the bathroom and into the shower. Once she got Lily out, she helped her put on new underwear and scrubs. She then blow-dried Lily’s hair and braided it in a loose braid to make it easier to manage. Lily was pale and sweating after the shower, so Ghost helped Killa half-carry her back to the bed.

T.J. gave Ace a sponge bath while Lily was in the shower, and he munched on a breakfast burrito as the doctor breezed in to check on the patients. Killa cut Lily’s breakfast burrito in half and put the other half back in the refrigerator. She was right; Lily ate little and fell asleep after her exam.

Ace groaned as the doctor looked him over. “The fracture is healing nicely,” he said, in a singsong voice. “And the antibiotics are working.”

He moaned. “I hate my life.”

“You not dead,” said Ghost.

“Good point,” said Ace. “And neither is my wife.”

“An’ Katya gonna have a baby for you. So, you gotta lie still and get well so’s you can pick up da kid when it come,” said Killa.

“Another good point,” said Ace. “I just hate being weak, and the pain sucks.”

“We can get ‘em up da meds,” said Ghost. “You jus’ need to get zoned out and sleep, like ya wife.”

“Another good idea,” said Ace. Ghost went out to call the doctor back in, and the dose was upped a little. That, along with more sleep meds, helped Ace fall back to sleep.

“Thought dey wouldn’t sleep,” said Ghost. “Now we gotta make a decision.”

“Les’ call da judge,” said Killa.

“We don’ talk all nice,” said Ghost.

“What did Bonnie say ‘bout dat?” asked Killa.

“We don’ crawl before nobody,” said Ghost. “’Kay. I call ‘em.”

Their surrogate broker called the judge for them. They got a call back twenty minutes later. “This is Judge Jannie Renault. Am I speaking to Ghost or Killa?”

“You don’ mind using our Nighthawks names?” asked Ghost. “An’ I be Ghost.”

“I am familiar with street names,” said the judge. “And, I am quite familiar with the Nighthawks. They tend to help us take out the trash, so to speak.”

Ghost shuddered. “De gang, the one dat abused dose dogs. Dey terrible. We rescued some of ‘em dogs.”

“Good to know,” said the judge, “and, you be what you are. We’re hiring you for your womb, not your grammar. I understand you’re both mechanics for the Nighthawks?”

“Work under Bonnie, she’s certified,” said Killa, into the speaker. “I’m Killa, but I not kill nobody. Kinda a joke to get us out of a si-chu-a-tion.”

“Good to know,” said the judge.

“Kind o’ ‘prentices,” said Ghost. “We put together Harleys from da kits, or make custom bikes. Bonnie got allus wearing masks an’ mechanic’s gloves now, sez we gotta be safe even before gettin’ knocked up.”

“Good woman,” said the judge. “Why are you doing this?”

“We wanna help other lesbians, and we not ready for da kids,” said Ghost. “We o’ready got dem underfoot at da club.”

“The homeschool,” said the judge. “I heard about that.”

“We done taught dem how to braid da hair. We creatin’ a course on mechanics for da older ones.” Ghost stopped. “We was worried, not done no teachin.’ But Bonnie say, dey gotta learn, so we gotta teach. Killa better wit dem than me.”

“What are you going to do with the money we pay you for being surrogates?” asked the judge.

“Found us a real sweet condo, near the club,” said Ghost. “Fixer-upper. Dem methheads be dere, holes in da walls. Da home inspector say it be still good, jus’ need a lotta work.”

“We real-good at da work,” said Killa. “Bonnie say, slackers get nowhere, we get somewhere.”

“Where is the condo?” Ghost gave her the address. They heard typing as she looked it up. “Reasonable price,” said the judge. “Here’s the deal. I gotta meet you, with my wife. I will say this. If we meet, and it all works out, if you have two babies for my wife and I, we’ll buy the house for you, free and clear.”

“We can do dat,” said Ghost. “We can eben get pregnant at da same time.”

“Let’s think about that one,” said the judge. “We’ve already got embryos ready to go, and they plant more than one at the same time. Don’t want to end up with five at once.”

Ghost laughed. “Our sista Katya jus’ had two. She tole us she made fo’ havin’ em. Popped ‘em out de minute de midwife showed up at de hospital. Ivy almost had ta play catch. We good wit’ more than one. Da doctor say we be doin’ fine.”

“So, no drugs, alcohol, other substances?” asked the judge.

“Bonnie usually lets us have a beer sometime, but she says, fucked up mechanic be de one wit’ no fingers.”

“We already had no beers for a week,” said Killa. “We know da drill. Goin’ off da cola, dat be a little harder.”

“Excellent,” said the judge. “I’ll feed you anything you want, tonight. Seven okay?”

“How ‘bout the Sonic near da club?” asked Ghost.

“Perfect,” said the judge, “my wife, Sondra, she loves their cheese sticks. See you then.”

“See ya, judge,” said Ghost.

Ghost and Killa hugged each other. “We gonna do dis?” asked Ghost.

“Free condo?” asked Killa. “Hell to da yes.”

They stole pizza pockets for lunch out of the fridge, and some juice. Ace slept on as Lily woke up. Killa helped her to the bathroom, then Lily ate the rest of her breakfast burrito and drank lime water. She watched a comedy, received more pain meds, and zonked back out.

Nantan took the afternoon shift. “Thought you was busy wif da teens,” said Ghost.

“Already picked everything, believe it or not,” he said. “They’re on rabbit and rooster duty. Just got a chicken coop. They chose a mix of breeds. They also just got a rabbit hutch and are raising angora rabbits.”

“Why da rabbits?” asked Killa.

“They have beautiful, expensive fur that they molt four times a year. You collect and sell the fur, and it doesn’t hurt the rabbits. They’re docile, and the kids love them. We got four, and we expect to fill the hutch before long. It’s more like a rabbit condo, actually.”

“We good wif da dogs,” said Ghost. “We gotta go. Got a three-wheeler to weld, and a judge to see.”

“A judge?” asked Nantan.

“We gonna be surrogates,” said Ghost, proudly.

Nantan nodded. “If things go as well as they seem to be going with my boyfriend, in a couple years if you’re still doing it, we may be hiring you.”

“We work wif da lesbians who can’t have da kids,” said Ghost. “Maybe we work wif da gay guys later.”

“We’ll think ‘bout it,” said Killa. They hugged Nantan and left.

* * *

Ghost and Killa told Bonnie about the judge, and the offer to pay off the condo. “I’ll spot you for the down payment,” she said. “You should have most of it if you’re saving like I taught you.”

“Yeah,” said Killa. “Got most of it. But we don’ qualify for no loan.”

“Don’t need one. Just get a contract from the judge with cash payments to show the buyer. If that doesn’t work, I’ll co-sign. You pay it off, and get my name taken off of it.”

Ghost and Killa both teared up. “You would do dat fo us?” asked Ghost.

“Why the fuck not?” asked Bonnie. “Now, get that silver three-wheeler built. Now. Owner’s having a cow waiting on it.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Killa and Ghost.

They took a snack break around three, then went back to their tiny apartment around six, to shower. They made it to Sonic in plenty of time. They sat down at a little table and ordered their drinks.

The judge was a tall, gamine woman, with short gray hair and huge black glasses that made her green eyes look huge. Her wife, Sondra, had kind brown eyes and wavy brown hair that tended to fall into her eyes. Both women spoke clearly. Sondra waved her hands when she spoke.

“I can’t thank you enough for this. I had cervical cancer, and had everything removed to keep it from spreading,” said the judge.

“I had fibroid tumors that keep growing. It is too dangerous for me to have a baby. We went through an ectopic pregnancy and two miscarriages,” said Sondra, with tears in her eyes.

“That sucks,” said Ghost. “That’s why we wanna do this.”

“And da condo,” said Killa. “We bein’ honest.”

“Excellent,” said the judge. “When do you want to get started?”

“De doctor at da fertility clinic say we ready in two days.”

Judge Jannie and Sondra clenched hands, looked at each other, and smiled. “We’re good with that,” said the judge.

“We ovulatin’ at the same time, ‘cause we married and live together,” said Ghost. “You want both of us or one of us?”

“Ghost, let’s start with you,” said Jannie. “We can go to Killa here if that doesn’t take.”

“Having four or five babies would be fun,” said the judge. “But all at once, not so much.”

Killa laughed. “No, but we ready if ya do.”

The judge smiled. “Okay. Let’s eat, and call the broker.”

“I’m too excited to eat,” said Sondra. “Let’s take it to go.” She stood, and hugged both of them. “You’re doing an amazing thing,” she said. “You’re worth twelve condos.” She laughed. “But we only have money for one.”

“We sign da paperwork tomorrow,” said Ghost. “Den we go to da clinic, and I get knocked up.”

Killa laughed. “Wish it were me too, but we gotta do dis one at a time.”

The judge hugged them too, and they went to order their food. The judge got on the phone, and the broker texted Killa with the news. Killa texted back to go ahead. Killa and Ghost waited until the women drove off to order their wings and cheese sticks. Then, they held each other close.

* * *

Bonnie went with them to sign the contract, then to the clinic. Ghost chafed at having to stay still, so Killa played a game with her on their tablet. Once they were allowed to leave, they went to get the condo. The surrogacy contract didn’t work to net them the house yet; Bonnie had to sign as a co-signer.

It took a week to find out that both embryos had implanted. It seemed the judge and her wife were, if all went well, getting twins, after all. They celebrated with sparkling grape juice, popcorn, and an action movie that night at home.

Recovery

Numa was worried. Lily had clean hair and skin, and she ate, mostly mechanically, when given food. But, she was ashen. Her eyes were huge, and she nearly always had tears in her eyes. She stared at her sleeping husband, and stroked his skin. She would get through a TV show or two before falling asleep again. She lost weight, despite the food. Her skin hung off of her. She didn’t read, which had been her previous love.

Numa and Ivy both tried talking to Lily about her brother. Lily would start to tell a story, but then would falter, then forget to finish her story. Most of them were of Lily doing what her alcoholic father should have, like kicking a soccer ball with him, helping him with homework, or baking him a birthday cupcake.

Numa reached out for help to Ava, her friend on the res. “Ya’ll need the Recover from Grief Handbook by Jasper and Frilton. It’s an oldie but goodie. Now, about Lily. It sounds like this poor woman lost two kids. She raised her older brother, which sounds weird. In actual fact, her brother was, to put it bluntly, an idiot who, unfortunately, fell into the same addiction as his father. So, first she raised him, then lost him to drugs and drinking, and then she lost him again to murder. On the same day, she was shot and lost her baby. I actually think she’s doing great. She’s eating and sleeping and showering. She’s healing physically. I hesitate at doing grief work just yet. She’s not ready. On top of everything else, her husband has been shot, directly in front of her, and he is badly damaged.”

“I am absolutely heartbroken, and terrified for her,” said Numa.

“I can understand why,” said Ava. “Now, Ace is doing what he should, drugging himself up and sleeping constantly. He has a broken scapula, and muscle, tendon, and cartilage damage. It is going to take a long time for him to heal. His wife’s older brother was murdered in front of him, and he was shot. Then, he wakes up to find his wife has been shot and his baby has died. His grief is more a lack of control because he couldn’t stop anything. So, he will probably spend time feeling helpless and angry. He’ll hurt over losing his child, but he’ll work through that, from what you’ve told me about him. He will feel especially helpless dealing with his wife, who will be going through grief for one to two years. It’s their decision if, or when to get pregnant again, but she’ll be needing to work through her grief through to acceptance before the baby is born.”

“Can you help them?” asked Numa.

“Absolutely,” said Ava, “I need to meet with them, of course, just briefly to introduce myself. She’ll probably cry through most of our sessions, but that’s quite healthy. Like I said, I think I need to meet them, and set up times to talk. Doing it by phone, online, or face-to-face. Yana can do the night shift, and me the day shift. The idea is to have her feel safe with us, and give her the time and space to hurt and heal.”

“When can you come down?”

“Tomorrow morning. We’ll keep it to ten minutes, unless she wants to unload.”

“Thank you, Ava,” said Numa.

“I’m getting paid,” said Ava. “They both have insurance. But, I will gladly help them.”

Numa told Ace and Lily about Ava, and her “co-pilot” Yana. Both had years as grief counselors, and they worked all over Vegas, not just the Res.

Inola was using Yana to help her process the rape as she grew large with little Ryder, the result of her rape. Inola was worried about visiting Lily and Ace. She didn’t want to make Lily’s grief worse.

Inola called Numa. “I’ll send Bella with Ava,” she said. “I trust her. I’ve talked with her when I couldn’t reach Yana.”

“Good,” said Numa. “Have her be here by nine.”

“Ugh,” said Inola. “You do know Bella’s a night bar back?”

“I do,” said Numa. “She only needs to be here ten minutes.”

“I call bullshit,” said Inola. “She’ll want to stay and hold Lily’s hand.”

“Is that a bad thing?” asked Numa.

“Move it to noon or one,” said Inola, “and, tell me when she’s ready for me to visit.”

“Will do,” said Numa.

“I’ve got a new horse to work with,” said Inola. “She’s a mare, older. Jeffrey loves her.”

“Good luck with that,” said Numa. She called Ava and moved the time to one, then texted both Inola and Bella.

* * *

Bella came early, with sealed containers of corn soup. She was stunned at the lost look in Lily’s violet eyes. She didn’t talk about the bar, or preparing for little Ryder. She just held Lily’s hand, and watched the tears leak from her eyes.

Ava was short, with a round face; short black hair shot with gray in a long braid down her back, and little silver glasses.

“I’m Ava. I’m your grief counselor. My co-pilot, Yana, will answer the phone if I’m off duty. She gets the night shift, and I’m the day shift. If you want her, that’s great.”

“She works with Inola,” said Bella, “and she’s great. I’ve talked to her, too. We’re doing really well.”

“Here’s our number, and Skype,” said Ava. “You can do phone and Skype calls if you don’t want us to come to you. I’ll come here until you feel better, enough to return to work, which won’t be for a long time.”

“I can do the books in bed,” said Lily.

“Later, honey,” said Ace. “We’re on too many drugs now.”

“Okay,” said Lily, “how often do you want to see us?”

“Let’s start with three times a week in person, and you can call or Skype twice a week outside of the face-to-face stuff. Let’s start next week, when you’re feeling a little better, physically. But, call me whenever. If it’s an emergency, or you feel like you’re going to fly apart, be clear about that. We prioritize.”

“How long will this take?” asked Ace.

“Grief is a long process. Most people cycle through the steps of it to acceptance within six months, but it seems to last, in its most potent form, a year to two years.”

“That sucks,” said Ace.

“You’ll cycle through stages, and you’ll probably go to what feels like a backward step. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. The only ‘rule,’ if there is one, is to feel. If you’re numb, feel numb. If you need to cry, do it. If you’re angry, use a squeezy ball.” She handed them out, a yellow one for Lily, a blue one for Ace. “Squeeze your heart out. Then, over time, when you are more physically fit, we’ll start with yoga, and move you into kickboxing for the anger. Physical exercise feels nearly impossible when you’re grieving, and it is a bad idea now, while you’re physically healing. But, it will help you with the emotions. The emotions come in waves, and, no doubt about it, they suck. Feel them, and the grief process goes better. Stuff them, and you turn into a porcupine, stabbing people at random.”

“Spiny people suck,” said Bella.

“Any other questions?” asked Ava.

“Can we keep you in a closet and drag you out when we need you?” asked Ace.

“’Fraid not,” said Ava, smiling. “Sorry. But, you have the phone and Skype. The phone will feel like a three-thousand-pound barbell, even those tiny ones they have now. But, use it. That’s what they’re for.”

“Okay,” said Ace. Lily just looked at her, blankly.

“Lily, you’re zoning out,” said Bella. “Inola still does it. It’s okay, just try to talk about your feelings when you come back.”

“Mmmf,” said Lily, her eyes closed.

“What should I do?” asked Ace, panicked.

“Let her go,” said Bella. “And don’t insist she pay attention. The present moment is too painful, so her mind goes for a walk.”

“What do you need me for?” asked Ava.

Bella snorted. “I’ve been there, done that. Consider me on call too, Ace, except when I’m working. I gotta sling the booze to get our baby situated in the nursery.”

Ava snorted. “Don’t listen to her. Half the res has given them one gift or another. And, they’ll have a half-dozen teenagers on the property ready to babysit, let alone Henry. He’s so excited he could pop.”

“No popping,” said Ace. Bella laughed.

“On that note,” said Ava, “I’ll get out of here. Call. Seriously. It’s my job, and you both have insurance.”

“And don’t read crap online about this,” said Bella. “It’ll scare you unnecessarily.”

“That’s right,” said Ava. “I don’t know why you need me. Bella’s got this down.” She waved, and took off for her hospice work.

“What else?” said Ace.

“Chill. Seriously, dude. Just chill. Grief can’t be sped up.”

“Damn,” he said. “No getting around it.”

“Nope,” said Bella. “Just chill out. Sleep. A lot. Dude, you got shot.”

Ace groaned. “I noticed. It fucking hurts.”

“Then I’ll let you sleep,” she said. “Right now, it’s the best thing for you. And, just so you know, you can’t do Lily’s grief for her. Wish you could. Wish I could steal Inola’s pain. Doesn’t work. Get enough sleep, do what the doctors tell you to. When you’re awake, watch dumb TV. I know reading is hard when you hurt. Watch dumb crap on YouTube. Just don’t think. Let yourself rest. Your wife needs a healthy husband who takes care of himself. And, this is the stupidest advice I can give because you’ll do it anyway, but, don’t worry about your wife. Worrying doesn’t improve anything, and it makes you unable to give her the support she needs. You’ll be tired and snarky from the anxiety, which doesn’t help. She needs a chilled-out dude. And, get a housekeeper when you get home, unless she cleans when she’s mad. Inola doesn’t, but Numa does.”

“Housekeeper. Check. Don’t worry and be happy, check. Now, get the fuck out of here so I can take your advice and get some sleep.” Bella flipped him off. He laughed, and she left.

* * *

Bella put in her shift at Dirty Vegas. Ivy was back, and Cougar was now doing the books and slinging booze. They took a massive liquor order. Despite the beginning of fall —elsewhere, Vegas really didn’t have fall. The tourists hadn’t slowed coming in to drink and dance with bikers. The bucket to pay for whatever the insurance didn’t pay for (to help Lily and Ace), got full fast; Ivy drew it out twice a night, and she deposited half into Ace’s account and half into Lily’s. Ivy took care of their bills; their dogs had joined the happy Daisy in their apartment. Grace and Hu loved walking them.

Bella noticed a change in Ivy. There was an undercurrent of anger in her. She loved to dance to angry songs, and girl-power ones, too. The band noticed, and played a lot more Guns N’ Roses and Lita Ford. Ivy sang Lita’s songs. The booze flowed, along with the tips. Part of their tips went to Ace and Lily’s get-well fund, which were labeled buckets on both bars.

Bella was nervous. Inola was getting huge, but wouldn’t stop riding horses. She promised to stick to the gentle mares. But, Bella still worried. So, she decided to talk to Henry. He could give guidance to both of them. She let go of her worry, using a breathing technique, and slung more booze.

She made it home alive, despite being tired. She slipped up her stairs. She loved them… her own private, spiral staircase. She entered, closed the door behind her, took off her boots and leathers, then shucked her clothes into the hamper. She took a shower, especially since her wife hated the smell of liquor. She dried off, then slid into bed, sporting a brand-new queen-sized memory foam mattress. Inola was on her side, hands draped over her stomach. Bella laid down next to Inola, smelling grass, and horse, and sunshine. She put her arm across Inola and felt the rounded bump pressing against her. Inola grasped her hand, and Bella slid into sleep.

Inola woke up early, and slid out from under her wife’s arm. She stood, stretched, and went to empty her bladder. She headed out to feed and let out the horses, ponies, and burro. She was delighted; she no longer had to muck out stalls. The herd of teens did that. They were on their third round. Nantan had helpers again. Tito had four new apprentices; his last ones were now full-time.

Sister was laughing, a wonderful sound to Inola’s ears. Inola ate an amazing breakfast of fat sausages, biscuits with butter and honey, and cheesy eggs. She took a sealed cup of coffee out to the meadow. Jeffrey was already getting the new horse used to being near people; simply walking the horse, a gorgeous gray, around the ring. Inola sipped her decaf, and smiled. The sunlight was still white, not quite fading to yellow just yet.

Henry joined her at the fence. “We have to talk,” he said.

“You can drink coffee,” said Inola. “Real coffee. I hate you, right now.”

He snorted. “Well, you still must listen. Bella is worried. I can see it on her face.”

Inola looked down at her cup. “My riding.”

“I know this is like cutting off your arm, but she has a point,” he said. “One fall…”

Inola sighed. “I don’t feel fat and ungainly on a horse.”

Henry snorted. “You are beautiful. I know your wife tells you so. So, get over it. Keep little Ryder safe.”

Inola nodded. “I hate this.”

“Just a few more months,” said Henry. “Then, Ryder will be here.”

“Yes,” said Inola. “He will.”

Fox came over. Her name was also Inola, but she went by the Paiute meaning of her name. “Mucked out the stalls,” Fox said. “I want to work with the skittish horse.”

“No problem,” said Inola. “Get Ouray and do it with her.”

“Good,” said Fox. “I’ll be right back.”

Fox had a flat face and bright black eyes, and Ouray had a round face and a bright smile.

“Ladies, take turns walking Smoke there. Walk her slow. Use a calm tone and a gentle hand.”

“Got it,” said Fox. And, she did. Those bright eyes missed nothing.

Henry came out again. “That one’s another Jeffrey,” he said, about Fox. " He looked at Ouray, who was known as Arrow. “Arrow there is like her name, one-pointed in her thinking. Means if there’s something wrong in her head, she’ll keep pointing to it.”

“And there’s a lot of falsehood in her head,” said Inola.

“Lots,” said Henry, “she thinks she is ungainly and stupid, and neither are true. She must not go back to her mother. Her mother’s tongue is a knife.”

“No kidding,” said Inola. “We’ll keep them both, I think. Once the baby comes, we’ll need all the help we can get! Ouray, our Arrow, is great with the rabbits. They need some consistency, I think. Having at least one that loves them all the time will be good, too.”

“Yes,” said Henry.

“Be careful,” said Inola. “Or, Aquene and Bianca will steal her to work with the baby goats.”

“I’m not expanding their house,” said Henry. “Tito says he won’t either, and that he’s so busy he needs clones.”

Inola laughed. “We’ve got plenty to help him,” said Inola.

Alo, another of their new Wolfpack, was Hopi, and he was strong and kind. She found him putting beets in the shredder to make horse feed. He had short straight hair and glasses.

“Inola,” he said. “I’ve got the feed mix. If I can get this right, I can get a recipe that will work for most horses. You would just have to alter it for the size of the horse.”

“If you get that right, you and Nantan can grow feed and make good money all over the place.” Inola smiled at him.

He smiled back. “If I can get it right for sheep, goats, and alpacas…”

“And rabbits,” said Inola.

“And rabbits,” said Alo, “then I can be useful here. My mom, she died, and my aunt has four others, all boys that eat like that Shadow, there.” He waved in the general direction of the paddock. Shadow, the horse, had been neglected; he ate as much as they could safely feed him.

Inola laughed. “Like all twelve of you do. We stuffed you in the dorms to the rafters.”

He laughed. “It’s fine. Our pods are cool. And, we all have our special spots. Catori likes the rafters,” he said, pointing up. “She likes to take her phone up there and read books. Dena likes to walk everywhere, and run when she can.”

“I noticed,” said Inola. “Girl runs like the wind.”

“Helaku likes to make stuff. Nantan is teaching him how to put together the hydroponics kits. They’re making ones out of pallets. He’s in making-stuff heaven. His mom tried to take me in, but she lost her house last year. She’s got a job in a convenience store, now, but it’s a lot easier without having to feed him.”

“He may do well with Tito. He has a side business rehabbing, and you’ll do work with him, probably starting this weekend. In fact, Helaku can help with rehabbing Ghost and Killa’s new condo. I think Ruby would like it, too. She’s good with building rabbit hutches.”

“Rabbit condos, Henry calls ‘em,” said Alo. “Kinda true. Anyway, Willow’s spot is anywhere Nantan is. She wants to learn everything hydroponics, and Jacy does whatever Willow does.”

“That boy needs a hobby other than Willow,” said Inola.

Alo laughed. “Probably won’t happen. He’s in love. Can’t eat or sleep unless he talks to her at least three times a day.”

“They go at it like the bunnies in the hut, I’ll throw them out,” said Inola. “They can hold back for three months until they both turn eighteen.”

Alo laughed and snorted at the same time. “I’ll warn them,” he said. “Yas has his eye on Alicia, and they both love every single animal here. I told them both to look at scholarships. They both need to go to vet school.”

“I agree,” said Inola. “Henry’s got them finishing up their high school courses on full throttle.”

“Have no idea about Yoki, Lena, and Elu. Those three love to talk, but they don’t really say much.”

Inola laughed. “True. They’re scared more than stupid, though,” said Inola. “They don’t know what they like, or what they want to do. That’s part of why they’re here, why you’re all here. You all are finding out what you want to do.”

“Yanaba and Gwen can code,” said Alo. “Henry is making the Three Gigglers learn it too.”

Inola laughed. “Hate to say it, but The Three Gigglers is kind of accurate.”

Henry came into the barn. “Got that recipe, Alo?” he asked. “No point in growing our own food if we can’t feed the horses.”

“And ponies, and rabbits, and…” said Inola.

“One feed mix at a time,” said Henry.

“Yes,” said Alo.

“Let me see your recipe,” said Henry. He looked it over. “Looks good,” he said, and handed back the tablet.

“I already approved it, and ran it by three vets,” said Inola.

“If we get a good mix, we can sell it,” said Henry.

“One horse at a time,” said Inola.

She did paperwork, and conversed with several other horse rescue societies. She found two Free to Good Home ads for goats, and emailed the particulars to Bianca. She made sure all the horses had all their immunizations, and went back to the house to wake up her wife.

Bella accepted kisses. “Guess what?” said Inola.

“We have free tickets to the moon colony?”

Inola laughed. “Seems that you have been reading sci-fi again.”

“Absolutely,” said Bella, taking Inola into her arms.

“Henry and I agreed that I can’t ride until Ryder is born.”

“Woo hoo!” said Bella. She kissed Inola, hard.

“Slow down,” said Inola. “I gave up what I like to do most. What are you giving up?”

“Sleep for the next eighteen years,” said Bella, kissing Inola again.

Inola laughed. “So am I.”

“I’m not giving up sex,” said Bella.

Inola kissed Bella’s neck. “Neither am I.”

Bella took off Inola’s shirt. “Ooh,” she said, looking at Inola’s breasts. “More for me to love and enjoy.”

Inola laughed. She undid her bra, and her breasts spilled out. Bella caught them, and kissed each one thoroughly. Inola gasped, then groaned.

“Pregnant is sexy,” said Bella.

“Yes, I am,” said Inola, and moaned again as Bella licked the tip of one breast, then another.

Inola finally got Bella’s sleep shirt off her, and returned the favor. Bella entwined her fingers in Inola’s hair, and stroked her breasts. She arched her back and moaned.

Bella propped Inola up on pillows, being careful to support her back. She rubbed Inola’s feet, making her groan. She kissed her way up Inola’s thighs, and kissed the rounded belly.

“Hello, Ryder,” said Bella. “Mama wants you to go to sleep, now.” She kissed Inola’s stomach.

Inola laughed. “Mommy says go to sleep,” she said, touching her stomach. “Good, no kicking,” said Inola.

Bella kissed down each of Inola’s thighs. She stroked her button, making her shake, then come in a great, rolling wave. Bella put her fingers inside Inola, and she pushed her head back against the pillow. Bella leaned forward and kissed her button, then put her tongue inside. She flicked her tongue in and out, while still going in and out with her fingers. Inola came again, and again.

Once Inola stopped juddering, she held Bella. “That was amazing,” she said. “Your turn.”

She pulled Bella to her, kissing her deeply. She nibbled Bella’s neck while cupping one of her breasts, then used her fingers to make Bella moan, stroking the breast, then kissing her way down. She made Bella moan, sucking one breast, then the other. She ran her fingers down, putting them inside, feeling her wetness. Bella put her fingers back inside Inola, and they both came together. They laid there, gasping.

Bella helped Inola stand up, and led her to the bathroom. Bella turned on the shower, and pulled Inola in. Bella washed Inola, and Inola washed Bella. They kissed each other. Bella stroked Inola’s back, and dug her thumbs into her lower back; Inola groaned with pleasure.

Bella dried Inola, and Inola dried what on Bella she could reach. Bella dried her own hair first, then dried Inola’s hair and braided it.

They kissed, and Inola smiled. “Lunch,” she said.

“Get a woman knocked up, and she becomes hungry twenty-four-seven,” said Bella. Inola shoved her. “Hey!” said Bella. “You’re not enhancing my calm.”

Inola smirked, put her makeup on, then her jeans and shirt, and walked down the stairs. Bella followed, dressed in her bar clothes, black jeans and an Aerosmith T-shirt. They sat down to a delicious chicken sandwich lunch, with potatoes and salad. Bella kissed her goodbye, and then went off to find her Harley.

“Hunts require hunters and quarries… and paths to follow.”

3

The New Normal

“Normal is the setting on a dryer.”

Questions

Ivy received the millionth liquor order. She should be happy, she knew, even delighted. Even with the missing Ace and Lily, the bar was running well. Kym, (street name Cougar), from the Valkyries was a great manager —tough, funny, great with spreadsheets. She had tattoos of cougars running up and down her neck, pawprints on her wrists, done in copper and black, etched on her copper skin. She had beautiful whiskey eyes, black hair curly down to her waist, and breasts she showed off with bustier-like tops. Her caboose she showed off with designer jeans. She could make even the toughest biker laugh. She handled the massive influx of customers calmly. She could sling drinks with the best of them. Ivy decided Cougar could stay, even when Ace came back. She was perfect… and, as a single mom, she needed the money. She had a fifteen-year-old girl who spent nights with her father and days with her mother.

Cougar came in, laughing. “Let’s get these in,” she said.

They filled up the cooler and the carts. Bella swung in, ready to work. She helped load the carts and deliver them to the bars. They made sure they had plenty of ice and beer. They laughed, getting the bars set up. The cooks came in, and they filled up on chicken fingers and sodas. All three of them filled up their empty beer bottles with apple juice. The bar backs came in, followed by the dancers and the cocktail servers. The band showed up, the doors opened, and they were in business.

There were the usual questions about Ace, which stabbed everyone in the heart, except Cougar. Ace, they all knew, and loved. When Ivy got tired of the questions, she danced, pounding her feet to a wild, rock beat. She put out liquor orders so fast that her hands flew. She and Cougar took turns running the money bag, counting and bagging it for a deposit and entering it into the spreadsheet. Ace’s bucket nearly overflowed, and had to be emptied three times that night.

Ivy made the bank deposit, and made it home to the duplex in record time. The girls ran upstairs past her.

“How was your night?” asked Callie, as they stripped off their boots and leathers, and petted the dogs.

“Busy,” said Ivy, “and you?”

“Same,” said Callie. “The kids have been arguing non-stop about getting angora rabbits like at Henry’s farm. Nantan suggests we stick to hydroponics unless we want to lose the classroom to bunnies. They tend to multiply.”

“F—fudgesticks,” said Ivy, going over to the kids’ bathroom to be sure they were brushing their teeth. She turned on the bath water.

Callie’s laughter followed her. “Fudgesticks? Really?”

They got the kids bathed and in bed. Callie read to them, one story in Chinese and the other in English, as Ivy took her shower. She dried her hair and dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt. She kissed both the girls goodnight, and petted all three, kid guard dogs.

They kissed her hands. “Good puppies,” Ivy said, and trundled off to bed.

Ivy found Callie reading in bed. “How can you read at a time like this?” asked Ivy.

“Go see Ace tomorrow,” said Callie. “Seriously. You’re climbing out of your skin. I’ll look at paint chips and dream of a yellow kitchen.”

“And I’ll help you paint. Might as well work off the mad I’ve got going on.” Callie sang a few bars of Mad World. “Exactly,” said Ivy. “We cremated Lily’s brother Devlin, but we can’t have a funeral until both of them can attend. How fucked up is that?”

“Very fucked up,” said Callie. “You’re doing what needs doing, keeping the bar running and their jobs intact. Right?”

“And raising a shit-ton of money with the bucket,” said Ivy. “Whatever their insurance doesn’t pay…”

“Will be covered. That private hospital isn’t cheap, and Numa is staying, too,” said Callie.

Ivy stopped changing into her nighttime T-shirt and shorts, stricken with a thought. “I need to move part of the money to her.”

“Write yourself a memo and set an alarm,” said Callie. “Then, come to bed.”

“How can I sleep at a time like this?”

Callie sighed through her teeth. “You need to be awake and alive tomorrow, because you’re leaving early to see Ace and Lily, right?”

“What should I bring?” asked Ivy.

“Dumb magazines you don’t have to think about to understand. Popcorn for watching Netflix. Cinnamon toast from a bakery. Get something small.” She reached out, captured Ivy’s hand. “They don’t need junk, baby. They need you.” She drew Ivy into bed. “Sleep, my precious.”

“Ma precious,” said Ivy, drawing her hands up like Gollum.

Callie laughed, and drew Ivy closer. “Come.”

Ivy climbed in bed, defeated. “You are so mean to me. I try to fall apart, and you keep me together.”

“Shut up,” said Callie. She kissed her, stroking her face. “I know you’re worried because our pregnancies are starting to show, and that this may freak Lily out. She’s grieving, and she’s going to have to face up to her pain sometime. She can’t avoid pregnant people for the rest of her life.”

“I get that,” said Ivy, “but she’s in so much pain. I wish I could take it away.”

“When you get a magic wand, let me use it, too,” said Callie.

“And Ace. Once the painkillers wear off, he’ll want to fix all Lily’s problems, but he can’t bring back the dead.” She sighed. “I was too slow.”

Callie put her hand over Ivy’s mouth. “You saved both of them. Neither Ace nor Lily would be alive if you hadn’t moved fast to get them to safety, and gotten them medical help.”

“I just left Lily there in the dust,” said Ivy, moving her hand away.

“Those yahoos with the truck could have helped her. You were trying to keep Ace from bleeding out at the time. I’m sure Lily preferred that you save Ace rather than pick her up.”

Ivy grimaced. “Why won’t you let me alone with my pity party?”

Callie kissed her. “Let me hold you. This is a tough time for you.”

“For both of us.”

“For both of us.” Callie kissed Ivy’s temple. “Let me hold you. This is the last time we can spoon before we’ll both get too big.”

“My God,” said Ivy. “We moved just in time. Those other stairs would have killed us.”

Callie stroked Ivy’s back. “Rest.” She started humming Sweet Child O’ Mine.” Ivy hummed along with her. Callie stroked her hair until Ivy stopped humming and finally slipped into sleep.

In the morning, Callie had two blessed hours to catch up on her coursework. Being a single parent while Ivy dealt with protecting Ace and Lily had eaten into her school time. The girls got themselves up and dressed.

Grace demanded chocolate-chip pancakes for breakfast. “I think you need to speak more gently,” said Callie. “You can ask, but you can’t tell me what to do.”

“You made babies and now I have a brother and a sister,” said Grace. “I don’t want them!”

“Why not?” asked Callie, taking out the pre-made pancake batter. She pulled out both the tiny chocolate chips, and the bananas.

“They are loud and cry and the mommies pay attention to the babies and no one plays with anyone anymore.”

“Goodness,” said Callie, getting where this was coming from. “Who said all that? Someone at school?” She took out a flat skillet, put it on the heat, and added butter.

“Kenny,” said Hu. “He is new.”

“Did Kenny get a new sister or brother?” asked Callie, scooping up the pancake batter, pouring it in the skillet.

“He got a sister,” said Hu. “But, I think he is jealous. His mother is very tired.”

“Kids do wear you out,” said Callie, adding the chocolate chips in a smiley face, and the banana slices as eyes and a nose.

“How will you deal with four children?” asked Hu.

“We have lots of aunts and uncles, right?” said Callie. “And a baby room at the school. I’ll stay home for six weeks, first. Mama just got a person helping her at work, so she’ll take time off, too.”

“Babies are loud,” said Grace.

“True,” said Callie, “but, we’ll get them on a sleep schedule, and get them sleeping through the night as soon as possible.”

“Plus,” said Hu, “we can stay with my mother and grandmother half the week.”

“Exactly,” said Callie, “you get a break.” She served up the pancakes.

“Smiley face!” said Grace.

“Thank you,” said Hu.

“You’re welcome,” said Callie. She gave them both orange juice, and poured on the maple syrup for them. Grace tended to drown her pancakes.

“I want a rabbit,” said Grace.

“No,” said Callie. “We have dogs in the house.”

“If you get a baby, I get a bunny,” said Grace.

“No,” said Callie. “You have Daisy. That’s enough.”

“I hate you,” said Grace.

“Grace, we don’t talk like that to each other. You’re on restriction,” said Callie. “Finish your pancakes.”

“No,” said Grace.

“Stop,” said Hu. “You won’t be able to go with me tonight if you keep it up.”

Grace stood up. “I’m going to go.” She went to brush her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” said Hu. “She’s jealous.”

“Yeah,” said Callie, making herself two pancakes. She added a handful of fruit from a container of sliced strawberries from inside the refrigerator. “I figured that out.”

“I told her we’ll have special time together, and that the babies will be cute.”

“She’s right,” said Callie. She flipped her pancake. “They are loud, and they do take a lot of attention. But, I promise you, being the older sister has its advantages.”

“Good,” said Hu. “May I be excused?”

“Yes,” said Callie. “Please put the plates in the sink.”

“Of course,” said Hu.

Callie wolfed down her pancakes, and took the girls and the dogs for a walk. The girls got back, and Callie had them get ready for school. Callie made strawberry pancakes for Ivy, and started the coffee. She flipped the pancakes, then plated them, and added butter and a smidgen of syrup. She poured the coffee in a sealed go-cup. Ivy stumbled out, grabbed the coffee, ate the pancakes, and Callie poured Ivy more coffee.

“Shoo!” she said. “Say ‘hi’ to Ace and Lily for me.”

“Mmfh,” said Ivy. Callie kissed her, and got her out the door.

She then cleaned up, petted the dogs, put the girls’ hair in clips, and herded the girls into the car. Grace was stonily silent the entire way. Hu and Grace went in, and Callie locked the car and followed them.

“What’s with Grace?” asked Henry.

“She is pissed because both Ivy and I are three months pregnant.”

Henry went still. “Really? Congratulations!” He hugged her.

“I thought you knew,” said Callie. “I had morning sickness for two months.”

“I’m sorry,” said Henry. “I had my head up my ass.”

“No,” said Callie, touching his hand. “You had a brain injury. And Inola’s recovery and pregnancy. We were kind of off your radar.”

“Now Ace and Lily,” said Henry. “Will it ever stop?”

“Yes,” said Callie. “My big, bad woman will make it stop.”

“I hope so,” said Henry.

“Me too,” said Callie. She gave him a hug.

Grace ended up being in separation time for rudeness to her mother. She had to do her work by herself in a corner. Henry told her she’d lose project time if she kept it up. She wanted to work on the hydroponics, so Grace backed off. She did her Chinese, so she was allowed to move back to the other children. She tried to throw her box lunch, so she had to eat lunch alone.

Nantan dragged her out of class and made her do her kickboxing moves before she was allowed to attend the hydroponics lesson. She was unrepentant, but she backed down when Callie informed her she wouldn’t be visiting Hu’s mother without a change in attitude.

Callie survived the shift, even after Henry went home, partly because Hu’s mom came in to teach Chinese. Bao was delighted that she had been able to buy a nice used Honda, complete with child safety seats, with money left over for car insurance. She took the kids home, with the knowledge that Grace was on restriction. Grace was still mutinous, getting into Bao’s car.

“You’re getting a younger brother and sister,” said Callie. “Put on your big girl panties and deal with it. Bao will give me a report. If your attitude doesn’t change, fast, we’ll have to have a longer discussion. You can act mean, but it won’t change anything. You’re still having siblings.”

“I’m not mean,” said Grace, her lower lip stuck out.

“You were even mean to Hu today,” said Callie. “You owe me an apology, and her, and Nantan.”

Grace kept her lower lip stuck out. “Did not.”

Callie said, “Get out of the car. You’re coming home with me. You pushed Hu twice, made Nantan stop his class because you were arguing, and you were just plain nasty to me.”

“No!” said Grace, eyes wide. “Sorry!”

“Nope,” said Callie, opening the door, and unplugging her from her car seat. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. You’re jealous and angry, and those are big emotions. But, that doesn’t mean you get to take out your emotions on other people.” She took her arm and gently guided her out of the car.

“Say goodbye to Hu. Let’s go.”

“I’ll stop!” said Grace.

“Yes, you will,” said Callie. “But you’re now on total restriction. Let’s go.” She guided her to her car, and put her into her car seat and plugged her in. She shut the door.

Grace folded her arms over her chest and glared at her mother. “You’re mean!”

Callie looked at her daughter in the rear-view mirror. “Look at your own behavior before you call other people mean.”

She got home in just a few minutes, and Grace stomped in, went to the room she shared with Hu, and slammed the door, nearly in Daisy’s face.

Callie opened the door and said, “You nearly hurt the dog, slamming the door in her face.” She took out all the electronics, leaving only books. Grace lay in her bed, staring at the wall. “Goodnight.” Grace ignored her.

Callie called the dogs, sat on the couch, and loved on them. She showered, then changed into shorts and a tee.

Ivy came home and Callie kissed her. “Our daughter just turned into a porcupine,” said Callie.

“Why?” asked Ivy, passing over the strawberry shake she’d gotten from Sonic. She put the sack of food on the table.

“Jealousy. She heard from a kid at school that babies take away the focus from older kids.”

“It does,” said Ivy plainly, taking out the mozzarella sticks and buffalo chicken.

They fell onto the food as if neither one of them had ever eaten before. When they came up for air, Callie detailed all of Grace’s behavior.

Ivy was pissed. “She’s acting like a spoiled brat. And, what did she think would happen? That she would throw a fit, and we would miraculously stop being pregnant?”

Callie snorted. “We did kind of spring it on her. And Hu.”

“Hu is excited,” said Ivy, “and much better behaved.”

Callie laughed. “It kind of balances, a wild one and a gentle one, but the wild one causes us to pull our hair out.”

Ivy laughed. “Wild women cause problems. But, I like her that way.”

Callie sighed. “She’s not going to be a Nighthawk, you know.”

“She’s a Valkyrie,” said Ivy.

Callie kissed Ivy. “I love being married to a wild woman.”

“How wild can we get?” asked Ivy.

“Sadly, Grace is still with us, so making love on this table is out.”

“Damn,” said Ivy.

They threw away the trash, and made it to the bathroom together before they kissed. The got in, and Ivy shut the door. Ivy put Callie up against the door, and kissed her deeply, stroking her face and neck. Callie pulled off Ivy’s shirt, and threw it into the hamper. Ivy pulled off Callie’s shirt, and took her breasts in her hands. Callie kept kissing back, and reached around to run her fingernails down Ivy’s back. Ivy arched her back, moaned, and kissed down Callie’s neck. Callie got Ivy’s bra off, licked the tips of her fingers, and stroked the tips of Ivy’s breasts.

Ivy lost herself in the kiss, the heat. She leaned down, and took one of Callie’s perfect breasts in her mouth, flicking her tongue, licking and sucking. Callie moaned. Callie somehow got Ivy’s jeans off, then her panties. Ivy nearly ripped off Callie’s shorts, then underwear. They sunk down to the floor, and Ivy sucked Callie’s other breast, stroking, making her come. She held Callie close, moving her onto the rug. Ivy parted Callie’s legs, and Callie pulled Ivy to her. They kissed, and Callie drew up her leg. She reached to touch Ivy’s button. She flicked, pushed, and stuck her fingers inside, making Ivy come. Ivy turned around, and Callie had all that wetness there in front of her. She flicked with her tongue, and Ivy groaned.

Ivy returned the favor and parted Callie’s legs, and began to flick with her own tongue. They flicked and touched, putting fingers in and out. They came together, in great waves; Ivy shuddering, trying to hold herself up. Ivy turned herself around, grabbed the wet wipes off the counter, and wiped them both off.

They held each other, wrung out. Ivy managed to help Callie up, and they got on panties and shorts, and camisoles. They slept, with Ivy’s face in Callie’s hair, her leg over Callie just under her newly rounded belly. She patted her unborn daughter, and slept.

Ivy answered the call at what, to her, was the crack of dawn. Callie was already up, working on finishing one of her courses. “Mmfh,” she said.

“Sorry to wake you up,” said Gregory, “but, the babies are sick. They’re throwing up, and Elena…”

“Bring her over,” said Ivy, barely able to get the words out. “Callie’s up.”

“Thanks,” said Gregory. Ivy hung up the phone, texted Callie that Elena was coming over, and fell back asleep.

The next call came an hour later. “Mmfh,” she said. “Sorry to wake you up,” said Tito. “But, the pipe burst in the bathroom at the club. I can’t get ahold of Gregory.”

“Sick babies,” said Ivy. “Flu.”

“Okay, I need authorization to…”

“Shut up,” said Ivy. “Do it.” She hung up, rolled over, and slept again.

The next call came barely fifteen minutes later. “Mmfh,” she said.

“Sorry, sugar,” said Cougar. “Got a health inspection today. I’m doing it, but Carlos is kinda mad about having to come in.”

“Give him babysitting money,” said Ivy, “and leave me the fuck alone.”

Cougar laughed. “Not a morning person?” Ivy hung up on her.

She woke up again in the late afternoon. Sun was streaking through the windows. She took a shower, and stumbled into the kitchen. Luckily, the dogs were under the table, not her feet. Callie gave her a cola. Elena was sitting with Callie at the table, playing a vicious game of dominoes.

“Missing a kid?” said Ivy.

“Had a heartfelt apology this morning,” said Callie. “And, she called Nantan to apologize, then she apologized to Daisy and helped me walk all the doggies with Elena here. Then, she apologized to Henry, then Hu. I let her go over.”

Ivy drained her Coke. “Damn,” she said, reading the label. “Caffeine-free?”

“Still has sugar,” said Callie, playing two tiles, a double and a single.

“Mmfh,” said Ivy. “Babies?”

“Nasty flu,” said Callie, “they’re getting hydrated and medicated at the urgent care, and watched. Elena’s staying here so she doesn’t get it.”

“Sorry,” said Elena, playing two tiles as well.

“It’s good to have you,” said Ivy, grabbing another cola out of the refrigerator.

“No, she wasn’t apologizing for that,” said Callie. “She’s out, and she kicked my ass. I’ve got lots of high tiles.” She started counting, and wrote her score on a pad.

“Mmfh,” said Ivy. She found a bagel, sliced it in half, and slid it into the microwave.

“She’s not a morning person,” said Elena.

“Nope,” said Callie.

Ivy found the strawberry cream cheese and a flat knife. When the microwave dinged, she attacked the bagel with the cream cheese.

“I’ll have you know I got three calls this morning.”

“What about?” asked Callie.

“Gregory calling about Elena here, Tito calling about fixing the club bathroom, and Cougar calling about the health inspection.”

“Busy morning,” said Callie.

“Mmfh,” said Ivy. The phone in Ivy’s pocket rang just as she sat at the table. “What now?” she moaned, but answered it.

“This is Ivy,” she said.

“Hello, sister,” said Skuld. “We have info.”

“Lay it on me,” said Ivy.

“We have progress on the lawyer of the Mexican cartel assassin, La Diabla,” said Skuld. “Fancy a ride?”

Capture

Wraith decided to call in every expert she could find to figure out Ignacio Reyes Georges, La Diabla’s lawyer. First, she got a court order to record video, minus audio of the lawyer’s visits to La Diabla. The transcript showed nothing but ordinary conversation. Then, she called in two experts, one in sign language, and one in poker and other tells.

The sign language expert, a young woman in a bright teal suit, said, “I got nothing.” Wraith paid her, and let her go.

Jean Mayyan, the poker woman, had a lined face, tired blue eyes, and a shock of blue hair. She was dressed in black jeans and a cinnamon-colored top that matched her skin.

She said, “Go away and bring me sustenance.”

“What kind?” asked Wraith.

“Caesar salad, breadsticks, and a raspberry tea.”

“On it,” said Wraith. She’d do anything for a crack in the case, even become a gopher. Besides, the restaurant delivered.

She got her own Caesar salad and a strawberry lemonade, and slammed out the paperwork she’d ignored when going deep.

The food came, and Wraith brought it in to the poker expert. The blue-haired woman had a pen and paper, her cell phone open.

“I see a pattern,” she said. “I’ll get it.”

“Good,” said Wraith. She sat, and ate her lunch, as the woman watched the tapes on the monitors, a different one on each screen. “There,” said the expert. She pointed to La Diabla’s long fingers, tapping on the metal table she was chained to. Wraith looked over, the fingers tapping on each monitor.

“You’re onto her,” said Wraith. “Ms. Mayyan, I think I love you.”

“Wait until I crack the…” She dropped her fork, grabbed the pencil and the pad of paper, and started writing. “Code,” she said. “Number code.”

“Account numbers,” said Wraith. “Asshole here’s gotta get paid.”

Jean Mayyan wrote in dots. “Morse code. Little bitch. Numbers, letters.” She wrote quickly, and ripped off the paper. There were three bank names and numbers.

“I do love you,” said Wraith.

“Track those down and come back,” said Mayyan. “I’ll have more.”

Wraith grabbed her salad and drink, and ran back to her desk. She worked off her earlier warrant, and tracked down the accounts. One was in the Cayman Islands, and two were in the US Virgin Islands.

“Gotcha,” she said.

She backtracked dates, and listed them all, for when the information came back. She called a contact in Treasury to get things moving there. She inhaled her salad, ate a tiny candy bar from her drawer, and attacked more paperwork. She then went back for more account numbers.

“Have some of those,” said the expert. “I also have instructions. Kill orders.”

“Kill those that bound me,” said the kill order. “Card man and braided hair woman.” There were details about the bar, and where Ivy lived.

“They followed Ivy, and waited until they were at the rest stop to shoot,” said Wraith, her blue eyes ice cold. “Bastards.”

“They put orders out on you and someone named Knife.”

“Saber,” said Wraith. “Good luck on getting to us. We’re usually out in the field.” She tapped her fingernail on her lower lip. “Probably should trace whoever they hired for that.”

“I have a name. Cistern?”

“Already dead,” said Wraith. “Get me everything you can. You will get a bonus, a recommendation, whatever your little heart desires.”

“Two of these raspberry lemonades and some Skittles.”

“Done,” said Wraith.

Mayyan worked for hours, translating everything. They laid it all out for a judge in California, the location of the Supermax where La Diabla, cartel assassin, was being held, and where her lawyer was located.

Wraith sent a coded text to Saber, asking if he wanted to take a road trip to California. She slammed out more paperwork, then grabbed her go bag.

She got the text that said, “Meet you in Pahrump.” She made good time.

They met at a truck stop. He looked scruffy, piratical with his saber earring. “How’s it going?” she asked.

He kissed her. “I am the biggest asshole in the gang,” he said. “I told them you were a prostitute.” She slapped his arm. “Hey!” he said, then he slipped her an envelope. She looked at the fake money, smiled, and slipped it in a pocket. They took off for the lawyer.

They made good time. ATF met them to make the arrest. His office was in Century City in Los Angeles. The security guard was about to block the Valkyrie and the pirate from entry, but their credentials had him stepping back.

“Don’t call anyone,” said Wraith. “You do, I’m arresting you, too.”

The man swallowed. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said.

They took the elevator to the eleventh floor. The offices of Oviedo, Georges, and Simpre were hushed, with a lot of glass and marble, and fish swimming in a huge tank.

“We need to speak with Mr. Georges,” said Wraith. “Where is his office?”

“Do you have an appointment?” asked the lovely receptionist with the long neck and the scarlet nails.

“I do,” said Wraith, badging her. “Where. Is. His. Office.”

Another lawyer came out with a client. Wraith sailed through the door, Saber right behind her.

“Corner,” said Wraith. They went to the first corner, but that was Oviedo. The opposite one was for Georges. Saber threw open the door. He was about to shred a document.

Wraith pointed her Glock at his head. “DEA. Step away from the shredder and put your hands up,” said Wraith.

Georges visibly puffed himself up. “What is the meaning of this?”

“You have the right to remain silent,” said Wraith, as Saber walked around the huge, black, gleaming desk and cuffed him.

“You can’t do this,” said Georges.

Wraith kept reading him the Miranda Rights. “Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

“I understand that you’re arresting me,” said Georges. “For what reason?”

“Cistern,” said Wraith. The blood drained out of his face. “Welcome to hell,” said Wraith. “You’re going to end up in the same place as many of your former clients.”

She took the cell off his desk and put it in a plastic bag. She called a number on her own cell phone, and his pocket rang. She patted him down, and found the other phone. She put it in another bag.

His secretary stood in the door, waving her hands. “They walked right past me, Mr. Georges,” she said.

“Shut up, Rian,” said Georges. She backed up as if she’d been slapped.

“I have a warrant,” said Wraith, showing it to Rian. Two more agents came in, along with a videographer and camera in hand. “Follow the money,” said Wraith, as they entered, boxes in hand.

“Will do,” said Agent Callis.

Oviedo deigned to come out of his corner office, infuriated. He was wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit, and even more expensive shoes.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Your counselor decided to work with his client to commit murder,” said Wraith, showing him the warrant.

“That’s ridiculous!” said Oviedo.

“The two of us were on his kill list,” said Wraith, pointing to herself and Saber. “He got paid and everything.” She opened a filing cabinet.

“Privilege,” said Oviedo.

“One client,” said Wraith. “It’s on the warrant.” She found the file, showing it to the camera. “Wow,” said Wraith, opening the file. “This is in code. Looks like I’ll have to get Mayyan to crack the code.”

“What?” asked Oviedo. He walked closer. She held up the legal pad. “What the hell?”

“Don’t know,” said Wraith. “But, I’m sure it’s interesting.”

Ivy, Skuld, and Rota watched the ATF agents walk out with the lawyer, eyes narrowed. A phalanx of Iron Knights and Valkyries surrounded the car, backs against it. The lawyer looked around, nearly stumbling. The fierce women glared at him, and all the bikers with their backs to him. He swallowed. He began to realize it was all over —his Mexican wife with her Jimmy Choo shoes, Rian and her love of diamonds. The sex, the cocaine, and, if he did manage to get out, the bikers would still be there. He looked up, seeing his former office. Then, an agent had a hand on his head, and he was in the car. The bikers got on their bikes, and escorted the ATF car to their offices. Ivy grinned, following the car.

After the bikers lined up to watch Georges go into the ATF office, they took off. They went to a Mexican restaurant, and took over half of it. They ate platters of burritos and tacos, rice and beans, and pitchers of beer and sodas, and talked about rides —the Redwood Forest, Pacific Coast Highway, Tijuana, and Death Valley. Ivy filled them in on the New Orleans trip —the ride; San Antonio, the French Quarter, the heat, the beautiful buildings, the food, the river.

They knew about the kidnapping, so she went into that, then the trip back, adopting way too many dogs, and Ace and Lily’s dog-training business, along with his son.

“We’ve told Keiran about his dad. They’ve Skyped. He’ll see him soon.”

“Whatever you need,” said Skuld.

“Ditto,” said Rota.

“Sisters,” Ivy said, and raised her Coke to them. They raised theirs back.

Afterward, they rode through the California high desert back to Vegas. They went up to Pahrump, where Callie waited at a truck stop. Ivy pulled up, leaned over, and kissed her.

“What happened to Elena?” asked Ivy.

“With Henry at the ranch. The rabbits were a huge draw.”

“Poor guy,” said Ivy. “Had a day off, then bam! Another kid.”

“Just like us,” said Callie. “Come on. Let’s go to Lake Mead and pitch a tent.”

“We’ll go to Lake Havasu,” said Skuld. They clasped forearms, then Callie took Ivy to the lake. They went to the overlook, and held hands.

“I confess,” said Ivy. “I drank a Coke.”

Callie mock-glared at her. “Wild woman,” she said.

“Wild woman I am,” said Ivy.

“How did it feel?” asked Callie. “Seeing that lawyer arrested?”

“Fantastic,” said Ivy, putting her arms around Callie, her chin on her shoulder.

They looked out over the cliff to the sparkling water below. “So, what are we going to name these babies?” asked Callie.

“Kiya and Mateo,” said Ivy.

“Kiya and Aiden,” said Callie.

“Aiden Sawyer and Kiya Aaliya,” said Ivy.

“Perfect,” said Callie. They kissed, and watched the sun go down.

* * *

Callie and Ivy left the girls with Bao, and went down on the bikes to pick up Keiran and Pavel from their school in Arizona. The boys were in front, ready with their backpacks.

“Who’s taking care of the dogs?” asked Ivy, as she helped them put their packs in the saddlebags.

“We have investors,” said Pavel. “They will stay.”

“Good,” said Callie. “Hop on.” Pavel got behind Callie, and Keiran behind Ivy.

They took it at a steady pace, stopping for fries, Cokes, and burgers along the way. They went straight to the hospital. The boys claimed Numa’s room, with the addition of another bed. She took the nanny cam with her, relying on the boys to check on them often.

Lily was able to walk around and shower and feed herself. Ace was much better, the bones of his ribs and scapula healing nicely. His arm was still immobilized, but he was far stronger and able to move around some. The boys brought video games, and Lily let Numa take her to her own home. Callie gave her the dogs back, and Numa went home to the farm.

* * *

Lily stood in the doorway of the baby’s room. She looked at the crib and touched the blankets hanging over the side. She sat in the rocking chair and wept.

Katya came by, letting herself in. She found Lily in the baby’s room, still crying. “Hush,” she said, hugging her. “You will have another baby. Ace must recover first, no?”

“The doctors don’t want me getting pregnant for a long time,” she said, wiping her eyes.

“So, I am surrogate. We wait until broken bones heal, no? Ace must be able to carry baby.”

Lily smiled. “I heard you had two babies, right there where I was passed out on the drugs after surgery. And I didn’t hear a thing!”

Katya waved her hand. “My boobs, they are big, but my body much smaller,” she said. “We Russian peasant women have two babies, no problem.”

“Good,” said Lily. “Are you sure? What about dealing with your babies?”

“I am already nursing, and eat much food. Do not worry. You must rest, heal. Then, you must take shots to harvest eggs. Come. You must sleep in your own bed with dog. You will feel better in morning.”

Waking up in her own bed, with a dog curled up on her toes. Alone at last, without doctors and nurses, and well-meaning friends stopping by. Lily felt much better. She was alone, and she intended to stay that way. The next morning, she ate a breakfast pastry and drank orange juice. She cleaned, dusted, did laundry, pitched a pile of junk mail, and straightened up the house. She walked one dog at a time, slowly, not allowing them to pull on the lead. She ordered delivery food from two different places, because she didn’t want to choose. She ate both potato pesto gnocchi, and orange chicken for lunch, and had a pain pill. She took a nap, then read a book. All in blessed, blessed silence.

She took on the club’s books remotely, going over what Cougar had done. She paid the taxes and bills, and paid her own bills; stunned at the influx of money in her account, specifically the medical bills not covered by insurance. She then paid Ace’s hospital bills, with the large amount of money in his account. She called a house cleaner, and within an hour, two women were scrubbing the house to within an inch of its life. She took the dogs on their slow walks again, then laid down to rest on the couch, book in hand. Still, everything was quiet. She slept on the couch, dogs at her feet. Life wasn’t good, but it was getting better.

She decided it was time to bite the bullet. First, she called the fertility clinic and made an appointment. She went in for a consultation. The doctor was very kind.

“I am Doctor Ingan. I am so sorry this happened to you. The earliest we would want to harvest eggs would be in two months. We want to be sure you’re completely healed, and it will give more time for your husband to heal.”

“Okay,” said Lily.

“You have a surrogate?” asked Doctor Ingan.

“Yes, our friend. She just had twins, apparently in the room where I was sleeping off my surgery. I didn’t hear a thing. The midwife apparently arrived just in time to play catch. She calls herself a ‘strong, Russian, peasant woman.’”

“An excellent candidate, and enough time for her to heal from the births, too,” said the doctor.

“We’ve got other friends, too, that work as motorcycle mechanics,” said Lily. “Apparently, their wombs are already being rented.”

“I think I know who they are,” said the doctor. “See me in four weeks and we’ll start you on the injections.”

“Excellent,” said Lily. “This isn’t how I wanted to go about it, but I’ll take what I can get.”

She decided to bite the other bullet. She texted Katya, then went to see the babies. She had a few tears holding Luka, and a few more with Ivan. Both babies stared into her eyes with blue-eyed certainty. Ivan moved more, and Luka was stronger and more serious.

“My God,” said Lily. “Their personalities are already there.”

“But of course,” said Katya, burping Ivan. He let out a long, low burp. She put him back on the breast, and he ate hungrily once more. “Ivan will be soccer champion. Luka will be scientist, make cure for cancer.”

Lily laughed. “Sure,” she said. “Or maybe the other way around. There are weightlifting scientists out there, you know.”

Katya laughed. “Yes, of course.”

“The doctor says we can work on harvesting the eggs in four weeks.”

“This is good,” said Katya. “Now, rest, heal. I pop out healthy babies.”

Luka yawned, nestled against Lily’s breast, and fell asleep. “I already love them so much,” said Lily.

“You be godparents, with Ace,” said Katya. “Christening supposed to happen earlier, but babies get sick.”

Lily teared up even more. “I would be so honored.”

“Pah,” said Katya. “I Russian peasant woman, I live until my children have children, and theirs have children as well.”

“Life is precious,” said Lily.

“Yes,” said Katya, burping Luka again. “But there will be no more shootings. I not have babies in hospital where my friends have been shot. I have babies at home, with midwife. Less problems.”

“Okay,” said Lily. “Okay.”

Lily went home. Nantan was there when she drove up. “I bring gifts,” he said.

“Good,” said Lily. “I didn’t want to shop.”

He put away the produce and fruit, already sliced and diced in little containers; hand-baked oat fruit bars, and three kinds of cookies.

“Thank you,” she said. “In fact, let me pay you to come back once a week. I hate zucchini, broccoli, and cauliflower.”

“Good to know,” said Nantan.

“I can be your accountant,” said Lily. “I know you do it for Bianca and Aquene, but I think you need to automate what you do and move online. And, I think you lost your accountants.”

Nantan rolled up the sacks. “I did,” said Nantan. “Excellent idea,” he said. “Let’s talk money.”

“Let’s talk groceries,” said Lily, opening her laptop on the kitchen table.

They hammered out a logo, the prices for everything including the animal feed and alpaca manure after a consultation with the sisters, and an hourly for Lily’s work that included groceries. Nantan agreed to stop off and get seafood and meat for her specifically, and to add a ten percent delivery fee and to subtract it from her fees. He gave her access to his spreadsheets, hugged her, and left.

Lily took her laptop over to the recliner with a cola. She sat down, swung over the little computer table and put the computer on it. Next, she put the soda in the hole for sodas in the arm of the chair, plugged in the computer, and got to work.

She hired an online logo company to make the logo for correspondence, billing, and labels. She downloaded all the forms she would need —correspondence, billing, labels, and Nantan’s spreadsheet. She cleaned it up and imported it into the billing program, and input the pricing sheet. Nantan swung back to drop off the meat, already marinated, and put it away. He loved the work she’d done, and went home.

She took a break, and ate green salad and fruit salad. Then, she read a book, and went to sleep in her recliner. It was so nice not to be in a bed.

She borrowed Callie’s car to pick up Ace and the boys. Ace was put on the other recliner, and the boys got into vicious video game wars with Ace. He often dropped out to sleep, as he was still weak, but he had fun with the boys. Lily put earplugs in and went about her accounting work. She talked to Cougar and Ivy, and they split up chores. Cougar or Ivy would enter the income information, scan in the bills of lading from the orders, and make the money drops, and Lily would do everything else.

Lily wondered, at first, why she didn’t want to work at the bar anymore, and she realized she now valued silence. She also wanted to work at home.

The logo came back and Nantan loved it. Lily set up a website, and a way for Nantan to merge his data on what was available for sale on his own spreadsheets. She put it online. Since he had lots of kids to chop veggies and fruit for, she decided veggies and fruit should be sold in containers that the customers would wash and send back. The customers would buy two sets of containers, so one would be in use and Nantan would have the other set. Lily ordered fifteen sets of forty containers, and worried that would be too much. She also ordered knives, an electric chopper and shredder, and tote bags with the logo on them. She ordered labels for the containers as well. The teens would have to wash the containers and apply the labels to the lids. She had it all shipped to Nantan.

The next day, she was stunned to find the orders pouring in. She called the farm, and Nantan said the containers had already arrived and were being washed. Lily pushed on the label printer to have them delivered that day, by paying a little more. The kids chopped up the ordered fruits and vegetables, filled up the containers, and put blank labels on the sides they wrote on with special pens with what was inside. They filled up the bags. They delivered on-res by horse, and filled up Nantan’s truck for the off-res deliveries. Nantan realized he needed a delivery van. He was delighted to find he could order one online. He then set about getting all the teens without a driver’s license to get a temporary one, and get them to pass the test. He then required all of them to take business and accounting courses so they could understand the business —or any business they chose for themselves.

The teens got into the delivery service. The horse training ones loved deliveries; they got special cooling saddlebags to carry the food to people on the res. They became called the “Farm Pony Express.” Wolfpack members Yoki, Lena, and Elu decided to bake five-grain bread and make veggie sandwiches to add to the online menu, and they sold very well.

The Wolfpack teens also worked with Tito; Callie hired them for her yellow living room. She got in a moon suit, and they went for it in the kitchen. Then, they went for a soft blue in the living room, and tore out and replaced the old bathroom sink with a double basin so all the bathrooms had two sinks. Hu and a repentant Grace helped make decisions about the last of the home improvements.

Callie and Ivy gave them a limited say in the babies’ room. They didn’t understand that babies needed bassinets and cribs, not their own pods. They decided upon a soft yellow, and pictures of cute animals on the wall. The babushkas came up with gorgeous furniture. The girls got to rub stain into it; it was unfinished. They loved the task. Callie decided on a cherry stain that really brought out the color of the wood.

* * *

Ace finally came home from the hospital. It seemed strange at first, for Lily to spend her days at home with Ace. She took them all to the lake for a break, then took them back in Callie’s car. She came back, and found Ace working on doing anything he could, one-handed. He got into house chores, cleaning and disposing of things, walking and grooming the dogs and training them, and learning from Killa how to do the harnesses for the dogs. He found out he could do a lot of the work one-handed. He also learned more Spanish and some Paiute. She learned with him, and they began to take on overflow of the harnesses during busy periods. Lily found two more clients, after setting up her own website with a logo of a stylized spreadsheet.

Lily started her shots, tiny needles she could shoot into her stomach or thighs. Then there were three large shots, and then she went in to have her eggs harvested. They got ten; Ace made terrible jokes about being unable to hold a magazine in one hand while filling up the cup with the other. They got seven viable embryos; Ace was insufferable, making jokes about his powerful swimmers. They implanted two embryos in Katya, and froze the rest for later.

A week later, Katya peed on a stick and then visited the clinic, and Ace and Lily were officially knocked up. Ace and Lily went on a ride with the Nighthawks to Lake Havasu to celebrate. Inola, Bella, and the thundering herd of teenagers had the babies, Ivan and Luka. They doted on them even more than the rabbits, who were shedding fur like mad, and collected the fur that Numa left to be washed and carded later, as she was on the trip, too. They invited Skuld, Rota, and the other Valkyries, as well as any Iron Knights who wanted to go.

Ace seethed that he had to be in Henry’s sidecar, but once the juddering of the ride made him sore, he calmed down and realized it was better for him. They hung out at the falls, and those that wanted to, went paddle boarding on the gorgeous blue water. Lily went, and spent a lot of time sitting or kneeling rather than standing, but she made it, feeling at peace in the canyons. Katya and Gregory spent a lot of time kissing, and resting in the sun. It was a gorgeous day, and an even more gorgeous night. They took over the entire wraparound patio at a local restaurant, and ate seafood, watching the sun go down. Some left, but those that wanted to, pitched tents, lit a fire, made s’mores, sang songs, and talked until the pale light of dawn.

Killa and Ghost met with Amalie and Jayla, a lesbian couple that wanted to rent Killa’s womb, in a coffee shop in the middle of Vegas. Amalie was a professor at UNLV. She was tall, with snapping black eyes and a halo of curly brown hair. She wore a teal shirt and black, silk pants. Jayla worked at a clothing boutique. She was wiry and obviously worked out; with close-cropped, thin, blonde hair and wide-set of soft brown eyes.

“We’re mixed,” said Amalie. “We’re kind of the United Nations —I’m Caribbean and Sioux, believe it or not, and Jayla’s mother is from Ghana and her father from Hawaii. We have great eggs, but I have fibroids and Jayla was born without a uterus. We have a great sperm donor, a family friend. We have embryos, and we’d like a surrogate that wants to have more than one of our kids, so both our eggs get used.”

“I can do that,” said Killa. “Ghost be knocked up with twins. I was holdin’ off to be sure Ghost was okay.”

“So, you’re Harley mechanics?” asked Jayla.

“Yeah,” said Ghost. “We be wearin’ masks, and now we got gloves. We specializin’ in puttin’ together kits, mostly three-wheelers. An’ we got our GEDs. Bonnie, she run our garage, an’ Henry, he run da school, dey say we gotta get licensed, then get some business degree. So, we takin’ half days at the community college. Bonnie say she not gonna live forever, so we gotta be ready to run da shop on our own.”

“Good,” said Amalie. “We both can coach you with the business classes, if you want.”

“Dat be good,” said Killa. “When you wanna start? Da clinic say, I be ready next week.”

Jayla grabbed Amalie’s hand. “We can’t afford as much as other people hiring surrogates. Why are you willing to take less money?”

“We already gotta job. And, we gotta condo. We good,” said Ghost.

“We wanna help other lesbian couples,” said Killa. “We din’ know so many lesbians need surrogates.”

“Plus,” said Ghost, “dunno why, but sistas aren’t helped as much. We got money, too.”

Amalie nodded. “White couples get more attention, I guess. Anyway, let’s get this done. Can we see where you work?”

“Sure,” said Ghost. “We ken go right now.” She showed them the address, and Amalie put it in their cell phone.

Bonnie was going over the little shop’s paperwork while sipping a cherry-lime drink. She was surprised to see a little, black, Honda four-door following Ghost and Killa on their Harleys; both had switched to three-wheelers they built themselves when they decided to get pregnant.

She came out of the bay. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” said Killa, coming to a stop. She stood, took off her helmet and put it in the seat. “We brought Amalie and Jayla. I gonna have a baby for them.”

Bonnie nodded, grasping the situation. “They wanted to see where you work.”

“Yeah,” said Killa.

“Good,” said Bonnie. “Smart women.”

Ghost stood, took off her helmet, and put it away in the seat as well. Amalie and Jayla came out of their car.

“This is a motorcycle club,” said Bonnie. “My name is Bonnie. This is my shop. We work on kits and help people build or work on their own bikes. We keep a clean shop, and I’m a licensed technician. The ladies here are getting licensed, too.” She shook hands with each woman. “Come in,” she said. “Take a look.”

“I’m Jayla, and this is Amalie,” said Jayla. “Thank you.”

They went in, and saw a very clean shop. Two bikes were out of their boxes, parts carefully set out. Both had been started, their chassis on their mounts. Another Harley was being worked on in the back by a young man; huge with muscle, shirt off, wearing jeans. He had a halo of wiry black hair, and was carefully installing a part.

“That’s Bear,” said Bonnie. He grunted hello. “He’s got a new part he wants to install himself.”

“Hello,” said Jayla. “This looks really clean and well-lighted. And, I can smell oil and solder.”

“Ghost here can solder the best line ever.” She pointed to the masks and gloves. “I’ve started to mask and glove up myself. It’s a pain, but I want to show I am with them.”

Jayla turned to Amalie, a question in her eyes. Amalie nodded. “Killa,” she said, “Can you go in next week?”

Killa nodded. “Let’s do two, like Ghost. One from each of ya.”

Amalie said, “A little risky, but I get what you’re saying. We don’t know if both will implant.”

“Do we want twins?” asked Jayla.

Amalie stared into Jayla’s eyes. “If it happens, that’s great, but I would rather have one at a time.”

“Agreed,” said Jayla. She turned to Killa. “One,” she said.

“’Kay,” said Killa.

“It was nice to meet you,” said Jayla, and shook hands with everyone except Bear.

“Ditto,” said Amalie. She turned to Killa. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Ain’t nothin,’” said Killa.

“It is most definitely something,” said Amalie. “You are amazing.” She hugged Killa, then reached out for Jayla. Amalie took Jayla’s hand, and led her wife to the car.

“Cute couple,” said Bonnie. “Now, get out of here. Don’t you have something else to do?”

Ghost laughed. “Word,” she said. They got on their bikes, and went home to paint the living room.

* * *

Henry took a walk, coffee cup in hand, to see the newest rescue, a cream pony. They had sold a mare to a woman with a little girl; the mare had the makings of a good jumper. She was fearless, with a good heart. The girl was studying dressage.

The pony, he thought, makes a good addition, and good work for our horse whisperers. Nantan was feeding her an apple, and stroking her neck.

Inola came out of the barn, and slowly crossed over to Henry. “Two separate vets and a lab say that Alo’s feed is excellent, especially for helping rescue horses. I suggest we get a logo and sell it, after we have enough for ourselves. And, weirdly, it may be good to keep some of our Wolfpack. Nantan needs help. I know this is a stupid time of year to do this, but we need more housing, permanent housing for those who choose to stay.”

“Well, damn,” said Henry. “I’m too busy to deal with this crap.”

“Can David do it?” David Chasing Hawk had moved into the “big house,” as they called it, and was a Paiute tribal elder and medicine man.

“Nope,” said Henry. “He’s got his hands full trying to develop new ‘cottage industries,’ as he calls them, like ours, on the res. With cell phones and the internet, and drop shipping. If you can make it, you can sell it online and ship it anywhere in the world. The idea is to train people, or help them find out what they like to do. We’ve got amazing beaders, but that doesn’t have high profits.”

“Why not make beadwork dresses and other things for dances? Talk to the Northern Paiutes too. The patterns are different with the Nations, so maybe other nations can be covered, too.”

“We’ll need lots of information,” said Henry, putting his coffee cup on a fencepost and pulling out his phone. “I’ll text a few people.”

Inola sighed. She went back to the office and pulled up the plans for the barn. She wanted a little apartment system, probably over a kitchen-like area for cutting up the veggies and fruits and putting them in the boxes. Adding another table with the cloth-bagged and ready-to-go area. There would also need to be a separate area for creating and storing the feed, and shipping it out to local farms. A third area could be used for storage, or whatever else they would be expanding to in the future. She sketched out the system, and put three small apartments over them. She decided to put one apartment on the bottom floor as well. She sketched it out.

Inola sighed. She didn’t think there was another hundred-year-old barn available to move, but it was easier to start with a building than build a new one. It was far too hot in the desert to use shipping containers, a great way to build buildings. She called Tito, and he agreed to come down and meet her, and to call around about another old barn they could move to the property. Inola sent a text to David and Henry about the barn. David texted her back that he knew of one, about two hours away. The price was good.

David, Inola, and Henry met Tito to look it over. It was in great shape, and they hired a barn specialist to move it. The old man who owned it was delighted with the money transferred into his account.

Tito followed them back, and Inola found a flat spot that would be perfect, next to the current barn. Tito called his cousins, and a grader was there within two hours, followed by a metal grid and a cement mixer for a pour.

Nantan helped both grade and pour, excited by the new barn/dorm. He called over the Wolfpack, and they went out to get wire baskets for the base, and some doors for the tabletops. The Wolfpack then learned how to build tables that could be used for the new barn; sanding and staining the wood before screwing the wire drawer shells to the tops. Some stayed to do chores, but most of the Wolfpack were there when the barn was moved. Tito had them jumping, framing the inside, while still avoiding harming the old heartwood.

Inola was exhausted; the baby was sucking all her energy. Bella rubbed her back every morning and night. “I’m ready to cut back,” said Bella. “Cougar is taking over one of my shifts.”

“Good,” said Inola. “Things are hopping here. We could use extra hands.”

Bella laughed. “Really? We’ve got teens coming out our ears!”

“Exactly!” said Inola. “Gotta keep them moving, from chores to finishing off their online classes, to helping Tito with the barn. They’re like sharks, always swimming or the system breaks down. Oddly, that means more work for us. We’ve got to make sure they are keeping up with our demand. I think half of them may stay, because we’re expanding what we do. Sister is going to need a kitchen helper. She’s got Sofia from the res to help. That girl was on the list anyway to come here to graduate, so she’s staying down the hall and will be working with the other teens on her coursework. She just moved in. Tiny thing, all wild black hair and big black eyes.”

“Hmm,” said Bella. “I was hoping to spend more time with you.”

“You will,” said Inola. “Just don’t expect to sleep in.”

Bella groaned. She worked swing. “Can I do afternoon jobs?”

“We’ll find something for you to do. But, we generally quit doing stuff after five.”

“Then, I’ll work on the inside of the new barn,” said Bella. “I’m getting pretty handy with a tool belt.”

“Sounds good,” said Inola. She kissed Bella’s neck.

Bella noticed some interesting things on her new day off. First of all, the new girl, Sofia, was great at making biscuits, and was a self-starter. She had the other teens bring her veggies to chop for the orders coming in. She also always had her tablet ready, watching videos and taking notes while things were baking. She also cleaned as she went.

Secondly, Sister didn’t seem to have anything wrong with her vocal cords, although she never spoke. She cried out when splattered with oil; Sofia had her arm cleaned in seconds by grabbing a wet wipe. Bella wondered if she could get the answers as to where she came from; she had shown up one day and refused to talk about her past. She understood both Ute, the language spoken by the Paiutes, and Sofia’s Spanish. Bella suspected something scary had happened to her, and that she was on the run from… something. But what?

She did something she knew may be a bad idea. What if Sister was on the run from the law? But, she took Sister’s fingerprints off a glass and gave them to an Iron Knight named Castoff, a cop. She said it was from someone passing through, that she suspected was a thief. The results were… odd. A woman named Violeta Guttierez had left a nursing home. She had been put there by her son. The nursing home was in southern Arizona. Bella looked it up; the nursing home was on the edge of a res, and had almost no information online. She looked up the son, who was living in a house owned by his mother. She then called Lily, who called her friend Daisy Chain for help.

Lily came over, and said, “Come with me.” They met a very angry Wraith at the clubhouse. “This is way out of my jurisdiction, but I made some calls, and we’ll be met there.”

“What’s going on?” asked Bella.

“We’re taking a trip,” said Wraith. “It turns out darling son, name of Ben, short for Benito, stole his mother’s house and has been cashing her Social Security checks. The house is just off the res near Cedar City. He’s a low-level meth dealer. Yeah, I’m going to smash him like a bug, and use his intel to go farther up the chain. But, I’m also going to get that asswipe nailed for stealing his mother’s checks. My guess is that the nursing home needs to be investigated, too. I know Henry’s had her checked out by a doctor; Sister doesn’t seem to have any medical problems. That’s way, way out of my jurisdiction, but I want this taken care of.”

“Damn straight,” said Bella. “She shouldn’t have to hide. Something nasty happened to her, or she would talk.”

“Let’s do this,” said Lily.

They took off toward Cedar City, Utah. They made good time, stopping off for drinks in St. George. They were met by a deputy, who followed them to the house; a gray building with a nice porch.

Benito was lounging on the porch, playing the same guitar chord, over and over. “Meth head,” said Bella to Lily, on the street at the far edge of the property.

He was a big man, with long, greasy hair and roving, bloodshot brown eyes. His nose had been broken repeatedly, and he had scars on his arms and one across the left side of his face, standing out whitely against his brown skin.

Wraith and the deputy identified themselves, the deputy as Cedar City Police and Wraith as a federal agent. Benito rushed Wraith, attempting to hit her with his guitar. She danced out of the way, and he succeeded in smashing it against the porch railing.

She laughed. “Good job, Ben,” she said, sweeping his legs out from under him. He fell against the wall.

She flipped him over, and the deputy handed her his cuffs. She put them on.

“You are under arrest for fraud, elder abuse, and assault on a federal officer.” He began cursing, mixing English, Ute, and Spanish in a steady stream of vitriol.

Wraith kicked open the door, and immediately called for an ambulance. There was an emaciated woman on the couch, rocking back and forth, singing nonsense. The smell was atrocious. The table was covered with handmade butterfly lollipops in garish colors.

“They’re making meth candy,” said Wraith. She had the deputy call it in, and texted her boss.

Bella and Lily rode to a local barbecue joint and wolfed down pulled pork sandwiches and fries, and drank sodas as Wraith dealt with the mess.

“Sister’s going to lose that house,” said Bella. “If they’ve been cooking meth, the chemicals are dangerous. The house will have to be leveled.”

“Well,” said Lily, “she can sell the land. And, she’ll get her social security check, now.”

“We need to see the nursing home,” said Bella.

“We need an Iron Knight and a hidden camera.”

“On it,” said Bella, finding a spy shop a few blocks away.

They bought a purse with a hidden camera, and met an undercover cop named Steel at a chicken restaurant a few blocks from the nursing home. He had short gray hair and big eyes, and was dressed in battered jeans, a blue shirt, and cowboy boots.

“Bella, Lily,” he said. “Wraith filled me in.”

“Here’s the hidden camera we want to use,” said Bella, showing him the purse, still in its box.

He laughed. “Don’t need it. I’ve got a nursing home inspector that’s meeting us there. Hope you kept the receipt.”

“We did, but we’re keeping it,” said Bella. “We tend to get ourselves in nasty situations.”

“Alrighty then,” said Steel. “Let’s go.”

The inspector was a steely-eyed Hispanic woman, and two deputies accompanied her. The found people in atrocious conditions —tied to beds, left with full diapers and bedsores; a dirty kitchen and atrocious food, and loads of bugs. Bella and Lily were both crying, helping with the patients as they were all checked out by paramedics and loaded into ambulances.

Finally, Bella and Lily were ushered out by a grim-faced Steel. “Go home,” he said.

Wraith approached them. “I’ll take them home. My paperwork is done for now, but I have the feeling yours is just beginning.”

“That’s the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen,” said Steel. “I’ve seen more pleasant car accidents.”

“Thanks for the assist,” said Wraith.

“It is my most genuine pleasure to assist the Valkyries and Nighthawks,” he said. “This is a nightmare I’m glad has ended.”

Wraith clasped wrists with him. She guided the exhausted Bella and Lily down the street to their bikes. She had them follow her to a convenience store, where she forced them to down a bottle of water.

“That was horrible,” said Lily. “Those poor people.”

“I thought Sister would be mad at me for checking her out,” said Bella. “I thought that I broke her trust. Then, I was happy about nailing her kid and getting her checks back, but upset about the house. Now,” she said, tears running down her face, “now I think about what would have happened if I hadn’t checked it out.”

Lily held Bella, and they both wept. Wraith went back in the store and bought wet wipes, which she gave to each of them when they broke the embrace.

Lily wiped her face. “Let’s go home,” she said. “Let’s tell Sister her nightmare is over, and that the other residents where she was, are free.”

“Henry and David are gonna be furious,” said Bella.

“I think they should help tell her,” said Lily.

“I’ll take all the help I can get,” said Bella.

They went back to the house. Sister and Sofia were making soup and brown bread. Bella tracked down Henry and David in the backyard. She took out a pitcher of tea and some glasses, then sat in the Adirondack chairs and spilled out her story. By the time she was done, both men had wet eyes.

“Good God,” said David. “At first, I was furious with you for investigating, and that you broke the trust of that wonderful woman. Now, I am so glad you did.”

“We need to help those people,” said Henry. “That close to the res, some of them were Paiute. We’ll get people out to help. We’ve got our own social workers. We have to use Utah people for this, but I know a few.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text.

Bella hung her head, and, despite her belief she’d cried all the tears she had, she still managed to burst into sobs. Henry put down his phone, dragged her chair closer, and held her.

Inola came around the house. “What did you do to my woman?” she asked.

David rose. “I’ll talk to Sister,” he said, and went inside. Henry spilled out the story, and stood, giving Inola his chair. Inola held Bella, rocking her back and forth as she cried.

Inside, Sister/Violeta was crying her own great, gusting sobs, sitting at the kitchen table. David held her, and Sofia stood by, helpless.

“Watch the meal,” said Henry to Sofia. “We’ll take care of Sister.”

“Vi,” said Sister, her voice rusty. “My name is Vi. If I had said something…”

“Lucky for us,” said Henry, “Bella is a curious sort.”

David patted her back. “You were badly traumatized. Trauma silenced you,” he said. “Never, ever be silent again.”

“That nasty son of yours won’t be able to hurt you again,” said Henry. “He’s going to prison.”

“He was raised by his father,” said Sister. “He beat him. I didn’t get custody back until he was fourteen. By then, he was already addicted to alcohol and drugs. It was too late. That boy never had a chance. Then, he got mean as a snake. He put something in my drink. I woke up in that horrible place. They drugged me. I poked a hole in my IV. I found some of my old clothes, and made it to a street. I hitchhiked. I was gonna go to the res, but I heard about the farm, the place where people went. A truck driver gave me some money, and I got an Uber. Got dropped off at the road. Found you.”

“Thank God you did,” said Henry. “You’ve helped two old men deal with a ton of kids and farm work and so much else.”

Vi laughed. “You took me in when no one else would, just accepted me the way that I was. I can’t do enough for you. And what you do for the kids, for the res…”

“You’re a survivor,” said Henry. “We’ll get you a res counselor to help you deal with what happened to you.”

“Thank you,” said Vi, drying her eyes on her apron. “Now, Sofia, let’s take out the bread.”

Sofia hugged Vi. Sofia said, “I’ve never been so glad to talk to somebody in my life,” she said. “Abuelita, of course I’ll take it out of the oven.” And she did.

Henry went over to the hydroponics building and told Nantan the whole story. He was horrified. “What makes anyone think they can act that way?”

“No idea,” said Henry. “Not a single clue.”

“Me either,” said Nantan.

* * *

Lily told the entire story to Ace when she got home. They ate salad and sandwiches that Nantan’s Wolfpack had delivered, and drank strawberry lemonade.

“We’ve been shot, and I lost my brother and our baby. But, I forgot how lucky we really are, how close we are with our friends, how we’re safe and loved.”

Ace kissed her forehead. “I am so sorry that helping take down La Diabla led to losing your brother and our baby.”

“You had to do it,” said Lily. “She didn’t seem to care who she killed. Hell, she killed a kid, some cheerleader in Texas. She needed to be taken out, and you did it without anyone else getting hurt.”

“I would like to say the prison is at fault,” said Ace, “but, the code was really good. I hear Wraith sent a memo to all law enforcement agencies and prisons about code. She’s getting the codebreaker she worked with to write a book for law enforcement.”

“Good,” said Lily. They talked about inconsequential things. Ace insisted on cleaning up. He was now wearing a sling.

Lily took Ace to bed. She slipped into boy shorts and a camisole. They held each other. She stroked his chest, kissed him. She stroked him from his chest to his stomach, covering him with butterfly kisses.

“Honey,” he said. “I am still weak as a kitten. I fall asleep during the day. Me! Taking naps! We both fall asleep at nine at night these days, and I’m a late-night guy that slings drinks. I don’t want to just lay here and attempt to touch you. You’ll end up doing all the work, and the meds I’m on won’t get me… interested.”

“Shut up,” she said, and kissed him. “Don’t you know, you idiot, that all women want, is to be kissed and held?”

“I can do that,” said Ace. “In a one-armed sort of way.”

She laughed. “Just relax,” she said.

“Baby, I have no other choice,” he said.

She kissed his forehead, his eyes, and he kissed her the same way. She kissed his neck. He groaned. She stroked his arms, then ran her hands down his side, kissing him. She slid lower, holding his balls in her hand. She stroked him while lightly kissing his checks. She went lower, slower, and he grew hard in her hands. She kissed his thighs, and then the tip of his penis. He groaned, and stroked her hair. She licked the tip, making him moan. She flicked her tongue up and down the entire shaft. He fought to stroke her hair, not twist his fingers in her hair. She took a condom out of the drawer and rolled it on, and mounted him. He came after only a few thrusts. She got off and used a wet wipe to clean him up. Then, she laid her head on his shoulder, and he held her with his good arm as she cried.

“Normal is the setting on a dryer.”

4

Captivating

“Sometimes life is two steps forward, and four back.”

New Life

Ace began with yoga and balance with Lily in the morning. He learned how to move his entire body when standing on just one foot. Then, he moved to weightlifting with a pulley system and hand weights. He still felt like a kitten; weak, and wanting to sleep all the time. He took hour-long naps twice a day, and stuck with going to bed early. He walked the dogs one at a time, twice a day. He took rides down to help Nantan, learning the plants and how to grow them hydroponically.

“You wanna grow hops? You can make beer. Or vodka from potatoes.”

“Not with twelve thousand teens here,” said Nantan. “Booze and teens don’t mix.”

“Word,” said Ace. “Don’t know when I can lift heavy cases of beer. I don’t want to damage myself by going in too soon, but not working is making me nuts.”

“Can you help your wife with the accounting?”

“Yes,” said Ace. “Then, I would die of boredom. I can only train the dogs so many hours a day. I’m studying Spanish, and that’s good. I’m a doer. What can I do?”

Nantan pointed to the barn next door. “Get yourself a buddy, one of the Wolfpack, to help, but you can do tasks. You can crash on my bed if you need a nap. Start with one of the apartments, and get a bed in there, and work your way down from there.”

“On it,” said Ace.

It didn’t take long for Ace to take over part of the punch list. He brought over his pulleys and weights, a duffel, and the dogs, and stayed at the big house until he got one of the apartments done. He moved in there. He’d done construction years ago, so he was seriously rusty, but he got it done.

Lily visited him, and explained that she got a lot more done with him at the ranch. He was a little hurt, until he realized he must have been underfoot. They also had sex on the visits, far more than they had been at home. He listened to podcasts and Spanish lessons while working, and the kids spoke the Spanish with him. He found that he could lift paint cans, boards, and even sinks.

The physical therapy sessions still sucked, but the therapist at the edge of the res was better than the other one. Still vicious, but he spent more time massaging Ace and teaching him how to move in order to heal.

Lily spent time with Katya and the babies. She wasn’t showing yet, but Ace and Lily’s twins were growing fine. She learned Russian lullabies, and how to deal with fussy, hungry babies. Lily brought home boxes of diapers and baby clothes, as the twins grew out of theirs.

“Three is enough, no?” asked Katya.

“How is Katya doing?” asked Lily, seeing Elena’s paint-by-numbers of a seascape on an easel.

“Elena has last surgery. She is so excited! She sings like an angel, and she is learning the keyboard. The little ones won’t sleep without her singing to them at night.”

Whenever Lily had a twinge —when her belly still hurt, she would think about a little girl going through surgery after surgery to repair the damage done by her warped father’s acid attack. She realized she was, in fact, lucky, despite all she had lost.

The grief was a wall of waves; a baseball bat hitting her in the head. She thought holding Katya’s babies would tear her apart, but it seemed to be healing her. The counseling sessions gave her a space to cry without the tears and exhaustion taking over her entire life. There were still days she didn’t get out of bed. Having Ace stay at the ranch was helpful; he would panic when she did that. She caught up on books she wanted to read, stupid TV shows she wanted to see, a hook rug she’d never completed. Or, she just laid there; resting, sleeping, waking, crying, then sleeping again.

She bought a little refrigerator and microwave and installed one under one nightstand, and the other under the other one, so she didn’t have to leave the room if she didn’t want to. She did her grief homework, and called when she didn’t want to come into the office.

She reclaimed good memories of her brother, helping him with his homework, the time they’d watched a sci-fi marathon and gotten sugar highs on soda and candy. And the times they’d gotten away from Dad for a while. She couldn’t bring her brother back. She realized she was really grieving a wasted life, one that he never got the chance to benefit from. Even with the changes he was making in his life. He could have married, or gotten a great job, or just lived out a quiet life somewhere, far from his Vegas temptations, but he never got the chance. She realized she wasn’t grieving her brother, but the man he never got to be.

She recovered slowly. She took long rides on her bike, out to Boulder City, to Red Rock, to Cedar City, and even Lake Havasu to paddle board alone. And, bit by bit, she reclaimed her soul.

Ivy found dancing harder and harder as her belly and ankles swelled. She could still sling booze, count money, and receive liquor orders, so she did. The bar backs took on more and more of the ice and other heavy lifting projects. The cooks kept a stream of snacks coming out to her. She started keeping energy bars in a box under the cash register.

She was tired easily, and took to sleeping later, despite having two active little girls in the house. She began to realize she’d have to cut her hours, something she was loathed to do with Ace still out. She realized she’d never asked him if he was coming back; she had just assumed. She called when she woke up the next day, and asked him, point blank.

“Haven’t thought about it,” he said, over the sound of hammering in the background. “I never planned on tending bar forever. Or construction, or working on bikes. I just worked my ass off trying to survive. I love the bar, enjoy the music, like sleeping in the day and working at night. Found out I still like construction, but there’s a fuckload of competition out there. I don’t want to be just another guy with a hammer. Enjoy working with the dogs, but you can only train them a bit a day. It’s a lot of work, but not all at once, you know?”

Ivy drank her early-morning cola. “Dude,” she said, “I don’t want to damage you. We’ve all been damaged enough. I don’t want you coming back to the bar to get hurt again.”

He thought about it. “If I act like a wimp and get the bar backs to do all the heavy lifting, I can do it a few hours a night to start, once my physical therapist gives the okay. I was going stir crazy here, until I started on the third barn, but we’ll finish pretty soon.”

“How many fucking barns does Henry need?”

“This one is for Nantan’s business, and to keep some of the teens he’s training for good. There are three apartments over the growing house, and two in the first, expanded barn, and now four more. Nantan and Jeffrey live over the barn.”

“Um, sorry I asked. So, you do want to come back?”

“Hell, yeah,” said Ace. “It’s like working with family, you know? Most of the customers are bikers. Love hearing the stories of the road. I’ll talk to the physical therapist, and let you know.”

“No hurry,” said Ivy. “Just so you know, I’m knocked up, and I’ll have to take off for six weeks or two months. Or until I go crazy.”

Ace laughed. “We’re knocked up too, remember? Twins! So, I’ll spell you, and you spell me.”

“Remind me again why we all fucking decided to get pregnant at the same time? Even Killa and Ghost got into it!”

“What?” asked Ace. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

“Surrogates,” said Ivy. “They’re paying for a condo and helping lesbian couples get help.”

“Don’t lesbian couples use their gay guy friends?”

“Not if their uteruses don’t work,” said Ivy.

“Too much information,” said Ace.

Ivy laughed. “On that note, I think I’ll gestate somewhere else.”

“Shut up,” said Ace, and hung up on her laughter in his ear.

Ivy helped the girls walk Daisy, and she also helped them get ready for school.

“We’re gonna work on hydroponics,” said Grace.

“We are expanding our garden,” said Hu. “We are labeling all of the plants in English, Spanish, Ute, and Mandarin.”

“Excellent,” said Ivy.

“Grandpa Jake now teaches Ute,” said Hu.

“Who is Grandpa Jake?” asked Ivy.

“He was in a nursing home, but it was a bad place. He still has holes in his arms where they stuck him,” said Grace. “He moves real slow and his voice is kinda quiet, and he has bandages on his arms and legs. We have to be sure he gets enough water.”

Ivy realized the girls were referring to a refugee from the “nursing home bust,” as Lily and Bella called it. Ivy suspected that there were Paiutes in the bust, and the idea of anyone harming an older tribe member would be anathema to them. Henry would most certainly be interested in rescuing anyone they could, provided they could care for them at the farm.

“Bet his Ute is amazing, and that he has great stories,” said Ivy.

“Coyote is sneaky,” said Grace.

Ivy remembered hearing several such stories from Henry; Coyote was the trickster in Native American stories. Coyote was sneaky, but usually did the right thing in the end.

Ivy laughed. “Yes, he is,” she said.

They made it back to the house, and Callie was ready with the backpacks with their tablets, pencil cases, and folders. Callie kept each child on a system that kept each student on track with assignments; most of it was online, but there was a checklist each kid had to do by the end of the day. The girls hopped in the car while Ivy opened the door and let Daisy back in.

Callie kissed Ivy goodbye. “Good luck at work,” she said. She put her hand on Ivy’s stomach. “Bye, little swimmer,” she said.

Ivy patted Callie’s stomach. “Bye, baby,” she said. “We need better names than, “little swimmers.”

Callie smiled. “Ultrasound tomorrow. Then we’ll know what to name whom.”

“Tomorrow,” said Ivy, kissing her again. She waved goodbye, then went back in the house to drop off the leash. She made sure Daisy had food and water, and then she went to the bar.

Ace was there. Ivy grabbed her chest and staggered in mock shock. “You finally showing your face?” asked Ivy, locking up her helmet in the seat of her Harley.

“Absolutely,” said Ace, “I can serve drinks and sign for stuff. I can’t lift cases of bottles, but I can lift cases of cans.”

“I can still lift the bottles,” said Ivy, “but my stomach is turning into a shelf. So, eventually, I won’t be able to see the cases to lift them.”

Ace laughed, put in the code, and unlocked the door for Ivy. “I’m still kinda weak, so I may need long breaks, maybe even take a nap in the office or go home early.”

“Whatever,” said Ivy. A beer truck drove up. “Sign for that, and ask the driver to wheel it to the cooler,” ordered Ivy. “I can see them well enough to fill up the cooler.”

Ace laughed again. “I’ll get the bottom ones if you can’t see them.”

They took turns unloading, and scooping ice into the bar carts. They filled them up, and wheeled them to the bars. Bella came in, stole her cart, and glared at both of them.

“You can wait ten minutes until I show up,” she said. “I can’t handle it if either one of you end up on the floor for being stupid.”

Ivy followed Bella to her bar, on the opposite side of the dance area. “Who is Grandpa Jake?” asked Ivy.

Bella smiled, and started moving ice from the cart to the freezer at her station. “He’s staying in the big house with Carl, both Paiutes that don’t have Alzheimer's or need lots of medical care. We’re trying to get Maia and Vu. They aren’t Paiute, but they don’t have anyone to help them. Both of them needed more medical help, but are probably getting sprung next week.”

“Let me know if we can help.”

Bella smiled. “Hu and Grace and the other kids are helping just fine. We’re supposed to pick up Carl’s new hearing aid tomorrow, so he’ll be teaching Paiute, too. His hands are still strong, and he’s good at needlework. He’s going to show the students beadwork.” She laughed. “Both Jake and Carl call it ‘earning their keep.’ She began emptying the cart of the beer. “Now, get away from me. I’m busy.”

Ivy laughed. She went to help Ace, but the arrival of the bar backs sent her into her office to find out if Cougar left any paperwork undone. Everything was done, so she had a small salad, mozzarella sticks, and a tea. She was sad that it wasn’t a cola, but she had to get her caffeine from green tea.

Ivy was pissed. The music was hot, making her want to dance on the plinths, but she was getting too wide to dance. She was, in fact, beginning to waddle. She sang instead, belting out Lita Ford’s Kiss Me Deadly. Bella came up and sang Lita Ford’s and Ozzy Osborne’s Close My Eyes, with her. Then, the band swung into AC/DC, doing Back in Black and Thunderstruck.

Ivy slung the booze. Ace took an hour break, wolfing down some food and then taking a nap on the couch in her office.

She had a shouted conversation with the Valkyries who came in. “Great Ace is back,” said Skuld. “He seems kinda slow, though.”

“Still recovering,” said Ivy.

“Got names for your passenger?” asked Rota.

“Passenger?” Ivy looked down after passing a beer to a patron and taking the money. “Oh, the baby. No. We have an ultrasound tomorrow.”

“Good,” said Rota. “If you need anything from the Valkyries, just ask.”

“You have done a ton for us Nighthawks. We say the same thing.”

“Hear anything about that bitch?” asked Rota, referring to the assassin La Diabla.

“She’s in a Supermax and has a new lawyer after the old one joined her in jail. There’s no money left to pay anyone; the forensic accountants found it all and froze the accounts, so hers is a court-appointed one.” Ivy filled up a tray of beer, and then pulled a pitcher of beer from the tap.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person,” said Skuld. Ivy poured them each a whiskey shot, and said, “On the house.” Skuld and Rota drank and turned their glasses upside-down.

Wraith came in, laughing, Saber in tow. “Give it to me straight,” said Wraith. Ivy finished filling up a tray, and poured them two whiskey shots.

Wraith tried to pay her, and Ivy said, “On the house.” They took them, clinked glasses, drank, and turned the glasses upside-down.

Wraith, Skuld, and Rota did a complicated sister wrist-clasping thing while Ivy served up drinks. One of the dancers went on break, and they went up to the plinths to dance together, leaving Saber at the bar.

Ivy poured him a beer. “You okay?” she asked.

“I’m trying to get assigned here permanently.”

“Should be easy, you keep busting cartel people,” she said.

“Thanks for that, by the way. I am so sorry for the damage, but Wraith and I have definitely benefited from nailing their asses to the wall. With prejudice.”

“If we find anything else nefarious, we’ll let you know,” said Ivy, filling up another tray.

“Wraith is majorly pissed about the nursing home thing,” said Saber, passing a beer back to the man behind him.

“Thanks, man,” he said, passing forward a bill. Saber passed it to Ivy.

“No problem,” he said.

“What is she pissed about?” asked Ivy. “That she got caught up in it, or that she missed out on the bust?”

Saber made a wrong-answer buzzer noise. “She is furious that this stuff happened in the first place. I hear Henry and the clan are taking four of the former residents.”

“Yeah,” said Ivy. “I’ll ask Callie to swing by and ask if they need anything. She’s amazing with getting rooms great.” She sold four more long-necked beers.

“The whole res is buzzing,” said Nina, the bar back, selling five beers, three in one hand and two in the other. “Henry wishes he could build a hospital.”

“Why not?” asked Ivy. “Callie says you guys just moved another barn there. How many fucking barns do you need?”

“A fucking barn sounds kind of fun,” said Saber. Ivy threw a bar towel at him. He threw it back. Nina grabbed the towel and threw it at him again. He laughed.

“Build an apartment behind the big house,” said Ivy. “Make apartments, and staff it with UNLV or community college graduates. The only problem is the medical stuff. That shit’s expensive.”

“Zoning and licensing,” said Saber. “But there’s nothing stopping Henry from offering to have anyone he wants, staying on his property.”

“Wish he could have taken all of them,” said Ivy. “But some of them are probably critical care.”

Nina passed more bottles of beer right by Saber’s face to a woman behind him. “We’ll send our own people to nursing school,” she said, grabbing the money the woman passed her. “Beth is graduating this month.” She turned, grabbed some empty glasses, put them in the dishwasher, wiped down the bar, and served two more beers. “Looks like they’re getting a new roomie,” said Nina. “I’ll give Beth a call tomorrow. She was talking about geriatrics, but she talked about how depressing most nursing homes are.”

“Nice,” said Ivy.

* * *

Henry walked with Jimi Toutin, occupational therapist for the blind. She was short, with a cascade of red hair, red-wiry glasses (that made her look like a wise owl), a round face, blue eyes, and a short stature.

“Maia loves to knit and crochet. Her hands are actually in very good condition. She speaks Spanish and Ute, so the staff apparently ignored her at her previous facility. She had to be put in the hospital to detox from meds she didn’t need; she’s recovering from bedsores, and the previous facility’s people screamed at her as if she was deaf. There’s nothing wrong with her hearing. The cataract surgery went wonderfully well, but her eyesight is still diminished. Sadly, we don’t know Braille.”

“Lessons,” said Jimi. “YouTube is great. You can memorize the dots. Label everything —her wardrobe, clothes, including their color, all her materials for knitting and crocheting…”

“Including color,” said Henry. “Looks like we’ve got to get Sophia to cook a meal, and Sister and I need to take Braille lessons, then take her shopping.”

“Just ask her before she comes; what kind of yarn and colors and sizes and gauges she wants. She’ll tell you. She’s calm, but opinionated,” said Jimi.

“What about Vu?” asked Henry.

“Half Thai, half Hispanic. Speaks English, a little Thai, a little Spanish, a little Ute. Very bright. Loves to read.”

Henry opened the door. The brand-new sunroom was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows bringing in the light. It was completely empty. “What do I need in here?” he asked.

“Very comfortable chairs. There are some that have a motorized system to help the elderly person stand up. Furniture that’s widely spaced, so walkers can get around, even wheelchairs. Tables at the perfect height of the chairs. Older people are generally shorter, so be sure the furniture is the right height. Put things like yarn in bins or baskets, rather than drawers that are difficult to open and close. They might get stuck. Knitting needles and hooks in cans labeled in Braille, Spanish and Ute, then beadwork supplies in cases that are easy to open and close. Everything should be labeled in English, Spanish, and Ute that can be read from the doorway. Cup holders —they need hydration. Tables that can be swung in and out and can tilt that are very sturdy, not just your average TV trays. Soft blankets in various weights. Even in the desert, older people get cold. Tablets, so they can read books from the online library and free books for Kindle. They can adjust the fonts and font size to make them easily readable. Lots of light, which you have here. Will this get too hot in the summer?”

“Screens,” said Henry, “and, I just installed more solar panels, so we have power.” He smiled. “Let’s look online,” said Henry. “You can help me shop.”

“Let’s do it,” said Jimi.

Vu was delighted with the sunroom. She sat herself down in a recliner that rose up to meet her butt, then settled back down. There was a little table next to it for her drinks —Henry bought cups with straws with an easy rubber grip; color-coded and Braille, labeled for each person. She swung in the tray, laid her tablet on it, adjusted her glasses on her nose, loaded a library book, and started reading. She was tiny, with a flat nose, and black eyes made huge with her glasses. She had a fall of gray hair she kept in a loose braid. She wore a light shirt, and slacks in bright colors. Today it was teal. She had others in magenta and yellow.

Jake loved her clothes. “Can’t sneak up on us in that getup,” he said.

Henry laughed. “Nope,” he said.

Carl was delighted with the table for just his beadwork, all labeled by size and color. “We tried to get all the sacred colors,” said Henry. “I found an online supply store specifically for Nations beadwork.”

Carl pulled out a bead. “Real silver,” he said. He put it back. He pulled out another one. “Real turquoise.”

“Numa has a trading post on the res,” he said. “You can sell your work there. The stuff for the dances can be sold online, for Southern and Northern Paiute.”

“Always wanted to hang out with some Dine and Hopi, learn their dances and their beadwork,” he said. “Some of it is far more intricate than what I do.” He looked at the cords, the needles, the rock tumbler, and at the diamond-tipped tiny drill for jewelry. “Oh, this is wonderful. I can turn my own beads.”

“You can,” said Henry.

“If you show me what you like, I can help you hunt rocks,” said Jake.

“I may take you up on that,” said Carl.

Maia liked to wear sweat dresses, the simple shifts woman wore to the sweats. She used her fingers to explore her special table just inside the door, complete with bins of yarn, crochet hooks and yarn needles all labeled in Braille on their bases. Everything easy to get to and color-labeled. She sat carefully in her comfy chair. Henry brought her over a light blanket to spread on her lap. Then, she sang as she took out yarn and unraveled it.

Jake realized she literally needed his hands, and he moved over a stool and sat beside her. He took the yarn and had her roll it out onto his hands. She then rolled it into a ball. She sang a Paiute song, so Jake and Carl joined in. Henry left them there, delighted beyond measure.

Sofia and Vi kept the snacks coming; they liked small meals throughout the day, and a bigger meal at four thirty. The ladies went to bed early, and Carl and Jake went to the school; Jake to teach Paiute and Carl to teach beadwork. The kids absolutely loved them.

There was a steady stream of people from the res, coming in to record their stories on video, including Vu and Maia. Tribal elders sought their counsel. And, as the elderly from the raid healed, Henry plotted to build a non-critical care facility by adding onto the house, for non-Alzheimer’s patients that needed more constant care. It would only have two beds, but he’d heard Bella’s description of the horrors she had seen, and he had held her when she had cried. He wasn’t about to let her down.

Takedown

Wraith’s boss pulled her into his office, one barely larger than her cubicle. “We need you to take down a ring of sex traffickers,” he said. “Real nasty folk. Some Russian, some Ukranians, a few Bosnians from Milosovic’s era thrown in for good measure,” he said, naming Serbia’s ex-strongman and instigator of genocide. “These are killers.”

“And I’m going to be trafficked?”

“Yes. They have a network, they offer young women jobs, steal their passports and visas, and force them to work in the nastiest places imaginable. The people running this are large consumers of drugs to keep the women docile. We’re tracing that end too. If they don’t meet their quotas, or they have too many overdoses, they start kidnapping. You’re going to be kidnapped. You’ll have a tracer under your skin, and we’ll pop them as soon as you arrive where the women are. We’ll make our way through the network from there; we have two inside.” He showed her the agents, one DEA of Russian extraction, and one “kidnapper” who spoke fluent Serbian.

Wraith was shocked at how good they blended in. They both definitely looked the part in their photographs.

“These assholes, the Russians, Ukrainians and Bosnians, don’t normally work together. Generally, they hate each other. They are converging because of a sudden hole in the network. We busted seven cells in Newark and five in Chicago. They still have quotas to meet, so they are drawing from each other’s expertise, so to speak.”

Wraith nodded. “Let me go get unpretty, and we can set up bringing me in.”

She was unhappy that Saber couldn’t get in on it; he was tracing guns going to a paramilitary group that believed they needed to start a revolution. She didn’t even know where he was.

She unbraided her hair, then put on product that made it stringy, and made it look like she dyed her hair instead of it being her natural color. She darkened her brows with makeup to increase this effect. She dressed in ancient, torn jeans, a T-shirt, and scuffed running shoes. She used makeup to give herself dark circles under her eyes, and bruising on her stomach.

She met Stankovic at his ancient car in an alley behind a bar. “You look the part,” said FBI Special Agent Stankovic, a specialist in infiltration.

They were the “Dirty FBI,” a team far from the short haircuts, dark suits, and polished shoes of the regular FBI.

She showed him the tracker under her skin, just under her armpit. “Hurt like a mother going in.”

“Stop whining,” he said, smiling at her. “Let’s put in the drops.” The drops slightly dilated her pupils, making it look like she was high, while still allowing her to see. “Sorry ‘bout this,” he said, first grabbing her arms hard enough to leave traces of bruises, then zipping her hands in a special zip tie that looked solid, but was actually weak on one side.

Putting her hands in the front would allow her to defend herself. “Ow,” said Wraith. “Let’s do this.”

Stankovic put her in the trunk, and she bounced around for only a few minutes. She distinctly heard Stankovic talking to another man.

“Yeah, I got a girl in the trunk. Send me to a drop-off.”

“Good,” said the other man, with an obvious Russian accent. “Let me see, no?”

Stankovic popped the trunk. Wraith looked up at them, faking woozy terror. The Russian hit Stankovic on the arm.

“Good one, special bonus. Very pretty.”

“I get bonus when I drop off girl?” asked Stankovic.

“I give you address,” said the Russian. “You do well, they let you have one for an hour, no?”

“Good,” said Stankovic. “But I want cash.”

The Russian spit on the ground, and closed the trunk. “You get your money. Here is address. Go,” he said.

Stankovic turned on the radio while pulling out and, pretending to sing, sang out the address. His off-key voice made Wraith wince. She knew that neighborhood, mostly warehouses.

Few lights were on there, with trash on the streets. Therefore, she wasn’t surprised at either the time it took to get there, or the trash-strewn alley when Stankovic hauled her out, none too gently.

She pretended to ineffectually fight back, and he slapped her. “Quiet!” he said. Wraith allowed her eyes to tear up.

“What you bring us?” said the guy on the door, a hulking man with very hard eyes.

“Special delivery,” said Stankovic. “Vassily is expecting me.”

“Huh,” said the hard-eyed man. “Nice. I help myself to her later.”

Wraith cringed, and got enough rage going on that she was able to cry. “Let… let me go,” she said, swaying.

The mountain at the door opened it after conferring with someone on his cell. Wraith knew Stankovic’s cell was cloning every single phone it came in contact with, and that agents were poring over the information.

“Go on up,” he said.

The warehouse had stairs that led to an office. There were shipping containers in the warehouse, eight of them. Each had a man in front of them, and a padlock.

They’re reusing the containers they get stuffed with illegal girls,” thought Wraith. I wonder if I am supposed to get my own little container?

There were creaking and moaning sounds coming from some of them, and one had the distinctive sound of slaps. Wraith had to work to keep the anger out of her eyes, including her face and her posture. She could go all Valkyrie later.

Stankovic dragged her into the office. Vassily had buzz-cut blonde hair, cold blue eyes, and a face marred by scars.

“Fuck,” said Vassily. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Jovan, Jovan Stankovic. I heard you needed a girl.” He roughly shoved Wraith closer. She shrank back.

“What do we have here?” asked Vassily. “We already have blondes.” He pulled out her T-shirt, looked down at her breasts, looked into her eyes. “This one is already half-baked.”

“I slipped it in her drink,” said Stankovic.

“Good,” said Vassily. “I will try her out. If she is acceptable, I have a client, a very good one. He will like this one.” He grabbed her face roughly. “I will enjoy fucking this one.”

“Payment,” said Stankovic. “She is pretty, young, a little stupid. Her girlfriends left her alone. Dive bar.”

Wraith swayed backward, nearly out of Vassily’s grip. “Lemme… lemme go,” she said.

Vassily slapped her. “Shut up, bitch,” he said. He reached into his back pocket, and took out four hundred-dollar bills.

“I was promised five for high quality,” said Stankovic. “And an hour with a girl.”

“Half an hour,” said Vassily, sighing and handing over another bill. “That’s all they’re good for, no?”

“Which container?” asked Stankovic.

“Left one at the bottom of the stairs,” said Vassily. “Dark-haired one. Not like this one.” He kissed Wraith, bruising her lips. She swayed backward, into Stankovic.

He slipped the tiny knife into her hand. “Have fun,” he said. Vassily grunted. He didn’t realize that Stankovic was talking to her, not him.

Wraith got the knife into the weak spot as Vassily pawed her breast. She allowed one more kiss, then she heard the outside doors smash, with yells of “Freeze!” She kneed Vassily, then gave him a roundhouse kick to the head. Vassily dropped like a stone. She pulled a twist tie out of her back pocket, and kicked him again when he went for his gun. She got him in the tie by immobilizing the joint, then patted him down. She got an interesting array of weapons off him, from guns to brass knuckles, and both a switchblade and a nasty knife.

“Bet you use these to terrify the girls, don’t you?” asked Wraith.

“Bitch!” screamed Vassily, over the gunshots and screams below.

She grabbed her badge from where it had been taped to her inner thigh, and held it up as an agent burst into the door. “You alright?” he said.

“This one runs this warehouse,” she said, pointing a foot at Vassily. “Any of ours hurt?”

“No Ma’am,” said the agent. “Mama taught me to wear Kevlar.”

“Good mama,” said Wraith. “Got any rubber gloves?” He handed her the gloves, and she carefully slid out Vassily’s cell phone. “Let’s go up the chain, shall we?”

“It’s what we’re here for,” said Stankovic, coming in the room. “I know you’re having fun, but Agent Dansi got pulled off for another case. I need help with the victims, and I think there’s one you’ll want to see.”

There were four ambulances. Wraith went down the stairs, and helped each woman into scrubs, and into the waiting ambulances, telling them they would not be deported if they were in America illegally, and that they would find their passports if they were here legally. She spoke in Russian, Spanish, and English.

She found the woman Stankovic referred to. She had long, dark, blue-black hair, soft dark eyes, bruises everywhere. “What nation are you?” asked Wraith.

“Dine,” said the woman. Navajo. She looked fifteen. “Ajai Morales. My mom married a guy who hit her, and me, I ran away… and ran into these…” She began to cry.

Wraith held her. “You have to go to the hospital first,” said Wraith. “I’ll go with you. When you’re better, I know where to take you. No one will ever hit you again.”

Wraith held Ajai’s hand as she was examined, and took her statement. She’d been clubbed on the head at a rest stop, and woke up in a shipping container nightmare of beatings, drugs, and rape. She was treated for two fractures, a cracked rib, and a broken bone in her right hand. She was medicated, and slept.

Wraith broke protocol and called in her sisters for help. Rota and Skuld took turns watching over her as Wraith interviewed the traumatized women. She went home to shower, and then went back to the office in full Valkyrie regalia. She looked like a Martian around all the suits; the “dirty FBI” were all at their desks doing after-action paperwork when not running down leads on the rest of the network.

Wraith alternately did paperwork and bounced in, to torment Vassily, who was waiting on his Russian mob, mouthpiece-lawyer.

“I’ll just talk,” she said, ignoring the clean, polished agents in the room.

She leaned back, put her steel-toed boots on the table, and used Stankovic’s tiny knife to clean out dirt from under her fingernails.

She talked in a conversational tone. “I know, American prisons aren’t as bad as Russian ones. But, human trafficking has attached to it, you; falling in a Supermax hole for the rest of your life, in solitary. No TV, no phone, possibly a book or two. Nothing else.”

“Fuck you,” he said. “I want lawyer.”

“Your lawyer is coming,” said Wraith, cleaning under another fingernail. “But he won’t get you off, or out on bail. You can’t run away under another rock. Those chains you’re wearing, and that orange jumpsuit, get used to them. It’s your new look.”

“I say nothing, bitch,” said Vassily.

“What’s wrong? The big bad Vassily taken down by an itty-bitty woman? How’s the head, Vassily? Can’t get it up unless a woman is drugged, being raped?”

Vassily lunged. Wraith just kicked away his hand. An agent forced him back into his chair. “The kiss you forced on me is the last you’ll ever get, Vassily boy,” she said. “Unless it’s a guy named Bruno in the shower.”

He lunged again, and she caught his hand, twisted it back. He howled, and she released him.

“So easy, Vassily,” she said. “So easy. I knew about this case six hours ago. Never heard your name before tonight. And, now, you’re going down. So fast, so easy.”

Vassily started screaming in Russian. She continued to clean out her nails as he called her disgusting names, described what his people would do to her when they caught her. Unfortunately for him, he used actual names, and there were two Russian speakers listening to every word he said.

Vassily lunged again. Bored, Wraith switched legs, bringing a steel-toed boot to bear on the wrist aimed at her. It didn’t break the wrist because she deliberately hit the manacle. It rang. He sat down, fruitlessly trying to stop the pain in his wrist.

“So easy,” she said. “We raided seven of these little container farms of yours,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll get a few more before dawn. Seventeen women rescued so far. Angry women. They will testify to everything.”

Vassily screamed at her, “I will be out by dawn!”

“You bought me for five hundred dollars. Your fingerprints are on every bill. The only place you’re going is where you’ll never see the sky again.”

“I will be at my dacha in Russia, hearing how my Ivan cut your head from your body. He will send pictures.”

“Here’s a picture for you,” said Wraith, opening up her cell phone. “Ivan looks remarkably like you, doesn’t he?” She turned a photo of a man against a wall, bleeding from several wounds, all of them fatal.

“Your little boy is dead. He shot at two agents. Sadly, for him, they were in full Kevlar, so not a scratch on them.”

Vassily stared at the photo. “Is not real,” he said.

“Chicago,” said Wraith. “Bet you regret sending your little boy into a life of crime, don’t you?”

Vassily pounded the table, again and again. Wraith stood. “Paperwork, you know,” she said. “Think I’ll head out, grab some late-night tacos, enjoy the fresh air,” she said. She leaned in toward him. “You might want to think about telling us about your bosses. The one there? Boris Nachenko? He hid under a desk, after he ordered your son to defend him. Your son died at age twenty for a low-life, even lower than you.”

Vassily stared right through her. “Alrighty then,” said Wraith, standing up and taking her phone back. “Have fun. I’ll be outside, someplace you’ll only be as you’re moved between facilities.” She walked out, humming a little tune, as Vassily pounded the table.

She strode down the hall. “I’ll be at Taco Bell if anyone needs me.”

Special Agent in Charge, named Costas stared at her. “I’ll call you if we need any more suspects hammered,” he said. She waved at him as she strode down the hall, and around a corner.

In the end, the phones talked the most. The data was coded, but relatively easy to crack. The phones led to member after member. As they were captured, more phones led to more phones. They were cute with texting codes, mostly buys and orders. For human beings.

Wraith and Herja escorted a terrified Ajai out of the hospital where she had been treated for post-traumatic stress disorder and her injuries nearly two weeks later.

“What if the judge doesn’t give it?” asked Ajai.

“Remember, your stepfather is in prison, and your two, other sisters have been removed from the house. Your word has been substantiated. Also, you’re a federal witness, and a victim of sex trafficking. That puts you in the position of being able to ask for what you want,” said Wraith.

“Why can’t I live with you?” she asked Rota and Herja, yet again.

“One, long word, sister, ‘hydroponics,’” said Herja. “Finish off high school and get all the knowledge you can while you’re at Henry’s farm. We’ll be here when you ‘graduate’ from Henry’s program. You can’t separate us that easily.”

“Besides,” said Rota, “we’re still getting our adoption classes finished. Your mother doesn’t seem to want to get out of her abuse cycle. The Navajo are on board with us adopting you and your little sisters.” She sighed. “I just got our apartment the way I like it.”

Herja laughed. “You’ve got a whole townhome to fix the way you like it.” Rota laughed.

Judge Regina Rajiin was quick and efficient; Wraith had laid out the case well, and had hired a lawyer named Gina Alvogado, another Dine, to represent her. Gina showed proof that the tribe would release Ajai and, eventually, her sister, as they had failed to protect the children adequately. Herja and Rota had agreed to teach the children Navajo. They knew and approved of Henry, so that helped.

They went out for tacos to celebrate, then they rode to Henry’s farm. Inola, now hugely pregnant, met them. “Your pod is this way,” she said.

“Am I a pod person, now?” asked Ajai.

Inola laughed. “I feel like one today. Ryder won’t stop kicking.”

* * *

Both Gregory and Nantan, who had been talking at the fence line and watching the horses, ran over when liquid hit the ground.

“Well, there goes my water,” said Inola, grabbing her back. She pulled out her phone. “Calling the midwife,” she explained. Henry walked her back toward the main house as she talked on the phone.

“While Inola has Ryder,” said Nantan, “Life goes on at the farm.”

Jeffrey pounded up on Casper, a gray rescue. “She havin’ the baby?” he asked.

“Yep,” said Nantan. “If I were you, I’d stay on top of the chores, and stay out of the main house. Some things you can’t unsee.”

“I’ll keep the barn and horses as if Inola were doing it herself.”

“Good,” said Nantan. “This here’s Ajai. She’s Dine. She’s new.”

“Cool,” said Jeffrey. “I’m Jeffrey. Stable hand.”

Nantan snorted. “Horse whisperer. We adopt them.”

Herja and Rota saw her pod, and pronounced it perfect. They gave her a brand-new tablet, and Valkyrie clothes —jeans, tees with designs embossed in silver, gold, or red, and her own pair of steel-toed boots. She hugged them, cried, and ran off with Nantan to check out the hydroponics house.

“They grow up so fast,” said Rota, tears in her eyes. Herja hugged her, and Wraith led them back to their bikes. “Meet here on Saturday for the ride?” asked Wraith.

“Abso-fukin-lutely,” said Herja.

* * *

The baby tom-tom network worked perfectly fine. Bella, who had just filled out her bar cart, was unceremoniously kicked out of Dirty Vegas for at least two weeks. Ace reminded her to keep her speed down and her eyes open on the way home. The midwife, Yela Racan, was from the res. She kept Inola walking, talking, and breathing deeply.

Bella did the worst Harley parking job ever, and ran into the house. Jake and Numa sang sacred songs as Bella and Inola walked the halls. Henry walked around wild-eyed, until David had him pulled away urgently on tribal business for an hour or two. Vu read a book on how to nurse the baby to Inola as she walked; both Inola and Bella asked questions. The panting got louder, they slow-walked into the bedroom. Sister was ready with a rubber sheet under the regular one, and two sets of bedding in case of accidents.

Gregory and Katya came over with the twins, adding to the noise. The babies were passed around like footballs. Simultaneous games of Frisbee and soccer broke out, teens versus older people. Nantan came and rounded up teens for evening chores, and they came back, sweaty, to play again. Gregory made his signature ribs, Katya her potato soup. Sister Vi baked up biscuits, and Nantan made green salad and a corn salsa that was amazing.

The teens mowed down bags of chips and salsa as if they weren’t having dinner later. The pies went in; apple, blueberry, blackberry, and plum, and a sinful, peanut butter, silk pie. The chefs rotated in and out, not wanting to miss the fun. The board and card games came out, popcorn was popped, and the sodas and snacks kept flowing.

Ryder Bella came into the world squalling; six pounds, two ounces, demanding to be fed. The party went from the kitchen to the entire wraparound patio. The baby was shown off as Inola showered, then sent back to Mom, squalling because she was as hungry as a hippo.

Inola slept as Bella held the baby, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Ryder,” she said, “you had a tough start, but you’re loved, by so many people they are still coming to the house. You’ll ride horses and Harleys, and braid your hair on one side like the Valkyries, and Henry will be way too overprotective. You will never, ever, have to wonder if you are loved.”

Henry, David, and Numa were standing right outside the door, coming to sing over the baby. All three of them stood there in the hallway, with tears streaming down their faces. Numa recovered first, and went in to sing over the baby. Henry and David eventually followed.

Henry and David waved goodbye to the last guest. The teens had moved quickly to help clean up the living room, and had stolen the card games to play in the dorm.

“They will not work tomorrow,” said Henry.

“Neither will we,” said David, taking the clip out of the base of his hair and putting it on the counter. “Except for cooking and feeding the animals, I declare a holiday.”

Both men kicked off their boots. Henry glared at David. “You sent me off to help the council decide where to put the new senior center,” he said. “That could have waited.”

David laughed. “You were about to make Inola crazy,” he said. “Your worry would have pissed her off.” He took off his shirt and threw it into the laundry hamper.

Henry threw his own shirt in. “You try my patience,” he said.

David laughed again. “Even Sister was trying to get you to calm down.”

“Vi,” said Henry. “But, I forget and call her Sister as well.” He took the work gloves out of his jeans and hung them on a hook. “We did not do well there, I think. We should have sought her family.”

“She was running from something,” said David. “We agreed that to keep her safe, following her back to her source may not be wise.” He took off his belt, hung it up. Henry did as well, rolling it up and putting it in a drawer with his other ones.

“I am terrified,” said Henry, “To lose all that we have built here.”

David took off his jeans put them in the hamper, pulling on the shorts he wore to bed. “Then you are a fool,” he said. “Inola and Numa will carry on what you have started, and Nantan, and Gregory. We’re not old men,” he said, embracing Henry. “We’re only in our fifties. We work harder than ten city men, not fat and lazy like them. We have strong arms,” he said, flexing his bicep.

Henry barked out a laugh. “Showoff.” He turned around and kissed David. “I have loved you for thirty years. I am so glad you found me.”

Two Paiute men had wanted to be medicine men, one an Arizona transplant who had studied under a medicine man there. He knew all the songs, and how to use his hands to heal. The other was learning rapidly.

“Just in time, too,’ David said. “I could give up my hogan to the younger men and move here.” He touched Henry’s head. “You terrified me, love.”

Henry had been bashed on the head and had been unable to protect Inola from the rape that had impregnated her. All the perpetrators were dead, courtesy of Ivy and a very angry Inola.

“You went inside yourself for so long that I was afraid I could not sing you back.”

“I came back to apologize to Inola, to give her whatever she needed.” He looked deep into David’s soft brown eyes. “Love,” he said, “You were icing on the cake.”

They kissed then, gentle leading to insistent. David stripped off Henry’s jeans, and Henry took off David’s shorts. They took it slow, easy, their hands knowing each other’s bodies. They had grown up together as boys, running all over the res together, working with horses on the farm Henry now owned, and working in the store all summer long that Numa eventually bought.

“I thought you were handsome,” said Henry, remembering the boy on a bike, pedaling into the wind. He kissed David’s lips. “You still are.”

David laughed. “Says the man with rock-hard abs.” He traced Henry’s stomach. “I love you,” he said.

Henry stroked David’s stomach. “You too,” he said. “Living on a farm is agreeing with you.” He smiled. “Let’s go out tomorrow on a long ride with the horses.”

“Not that new skittish one,” said David.

“No,” said Henry. “Not the skittish one.”

They took off their boxers and stood there, smiling, looking into each other’s eyes. David threw the clothes in the hamper, and Henry led him to the shower.

They took their time washing each other’s hair. They washed each other; slowly, reveling in touch they couldn’t have had if Henry had died in a closet, his head bashed in. They soaped each other, stroking, groaning, kissing. The hot water pounded their backs. David caressed Henry’s balls, found the spot just behind them that made him clasp his hand in David’s hair, pulling his head back, so he could kiss his neck. Henry let go to reach down and do the same to David, then rolled his fingers up over the balls to cup David’s cock in his hands. David rolled his eyes, and barely held onto himself in order to do the same to Henry.

David came first, in Henry’s hand, and Henry came next. They washed each other again, and Henry led them out of the shower. They dried each other off, then Henry braided David’s hair. They pulled on shorts, climbed into bed, and held each other close. Just as they were slipping into sleep, the baby cried, and was soon quieted.

“No more quiet nights for us,” said David.

“Is it not wonderful?” Henry asked, stroking David’s face. “Goodnight, love,” he said, kissing him. David kissed him back. “If you keep that up, we will have another reason for not sleeping tonight,” said Henry.

“Really?” asked David, and they kissed again, not hearing the baby squall one more time, angered at changing breasts. They definitely heard the crying at three am.

Rally

The rally to Lake Havasu started in Los Angeles. Ivy left the club in Cougar’s capable hands, moved the bar backs up to full servers, and hired some temp bar backs for the run.

“Be good for ‘em,” said Cougar. “You and Ace gonna have your hands full with babies. You’ll both be part time. They may as well step up.”

“I’ve got a better idea. Nina’s graduating soon. Find out which temp we hire works out, and move up Bella’s bar back to full bartender. We gotta have fast bartenders, you know that.”

“Shake it or move on,” said Cougar. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”

“Sure you don’t want to close the bar to go to the rally?”

“Nope,” said Cougar. “Be great to run things without you all in my business.”

“Honey,” said Ivy, “I only want to be up in Callie’s business.” Both women laughed.

Bao took on Hu and Grace. Gregory left the twins in the capable hands of his wife and the babushkas. He slept in Henry’s house the night before the rally, getting his first full night’s sleep since the babies had been born. Katya had accused him of being a too-hands-on papa. Elena doted on her siblings, and the babushkas were over nearly every day, waiting on Katya hand and foot.

Ace had moved back in with Lily. The time apart had given both of them enough time to grieve more deeply than they would have if they had been trying to prop each other up. Or even feeling the guilt they both felt when they looked at one another. It also saved them from having said stupid things to each other in their grief, or worrying about each other when Lily couldn’t get out of bed with grief.

They picked up Keiran and Pavel the day before. The boys were so excited for the ride that they didn’t get much sleep, talking well into the night.

There were so many of them making the four-hour ride to Venice Beach that they had to go in stages. The Valkyries met before first light, and Wraith was with them, hair spilling out behind them, with Lita Ford’s Kiss Me Deadly, blaring in their earbuds. Wraith was long over moving from the Nighthawks to the Valkyries. Her sisters made her stronger, wilder, and all the better for her to go deep undercover and retain more of herself when she resurfaced. Saber changed to the Iron Knights with Ace, Henry, and Ivy’s blessing. He exalted in the open road, laughing into the wind.

Herja led, Rota with Ajai on the back. The girl took to bikes like a duck to water. Herja suspected they had a Harley mechanic on their hands, not a hydroponics specialist, but time would tell. Their last class was on Tuesday, and then they could move six-year-old Awee and four-year-old Doba into their house in stages, starting with visits and lots of Navajo language lessons.

The Iron Knights followed at dawn, Springsteen’s Born to Run in their ears. The Nighthawks had a more family-oriented approach, dogs in their special carriers with harnesses in the back, and sidecars with larger dogs or elderly people. The teens riding behind; Ace had Keiran, Lily (Pavel), and the Wolfpack spread out among the rest of the Nighthawks.

They met for a raucous dawn breakfast at a pancake house, and managed to get everyone on the road by seven. Tom Petty’s Running Down a Dream blaring in their ears.

All three groups made good time, and had time for lunch on the beach before the rally began at one o’clock. It took time to get all the T-shirts handed out, with The Wounded Warriors Project logo on the front, and the club logo printed on the back. Henry and Ivy had paid a lot of money to have all the teens with the Nighthawks logo, except for Ajai, who wore the Valkyries logo. They mounted up, the Iron Knights heading out first, then the Valkyries, then more clubs.

As the last to sign in, the Nighthawks were part of the kerfuffle when it was determined that there weren’t enough bikers to carry the Wounded Warriors who were picking up specialized prosthetics fitted to them in Lake Havasu in a special session.

Jake immediately hopped out of the sidecar, and offered to take a bus back to Vegas. “Ain’t no warrior left behind when my bony ass can find another way back.”

To their credit, two of the teens said much the same thing. Ivy and Bella each took one, and Ivy called for Wraith to send Herja back. Herja came back with Rota and Ajai, and six more Valkyries. They got everybody loaded up, literally tying several warriors with both arms or legs missing to the bikes. A Warrior got the sidecar, and Jake’s “bony ass” ended up with another one of the Nighthawks.

They took frequent breaks, with the Warriors with them. It took forever to get out of LA, then they opened up on the highway. They listened to the Eagles’ Take It Easy, and Here I Go Again by Whitesnake. They hit the high desert, and stopped off in Indio for food and icy drinks. They took the 10 to the 192 to the left at 177. The wind was in their hair, the road cutting through the desert like a black ribbon.

They made it there in time for the Warriors to be fitted for their prosthetics. The teens all stumbled to benches, not used to long rides. Ivy and the Valkyries brought back sodas and snacks, and they unfolded their folding chairs, rolled out their sleeping bags, and settled in. There was amazing music, dancing, vendors selling every food imaginable, and the ceremony that proclaimed the total raised; they hit half a million dollars.

The band went into a rousing round of Tubthumping by Chumbawamba, followed by Imagine Dragon’s Warriors and AC/DC’s Thunderstruck.

When the sun started to go down, the rally then spread out, with some staying to dance, and others heading out to set up tents, check into hotels, or just stare out at the lake.

Henry led a group of Warriors to his favorite spot to pitch a tent, with a gorgeous view of the lake, far enough back that no one would inadvertently go swimming in the dark. They had the tents up in no time, helping each other out. One guy in a wheelchair zipped all over the place, pulling a line taut here, setting up a fire pit there. They pulled out guitars and drums and pounded out songs, wailing into the night. Henry left them to it, giving them the GPS coordinates and his phone number when they wanted to bug out in the morning.

Henry made it to the teen area nearby. Nantan was surrounded by Valkyries, determined to protect the teens if need be. The Valkyries and the Iron Knights set up shop a little farther along the curve of the lake. They cooked their own hot dogs and hamburgers, veggie burgers for two of them, and then they ate s’mores.

The Valkyries started singing, starting with What’s Going On, by Four Non Blondes. The kids heard the songs coming from farther down the lake.

“Damn, Ivy can sing,” said Ajai, into Herja’s ear.

“Absolutely,” said Herja. “She’s one of strongest, most talented women I know. You want an example of how to be? Check her out.”

“I’ve got you, and Wraith, and Rota. Wraith took me out of hell.” She stared across the fire as Ivy sang, Stay with Me. “I think I want to be Wraith. I’ve done Nantan’s thing. I love the horses, but shoveling shit isn’t my thing.” Herja barked out laughter. “I love hanging out with Killa and Ghost and Bonnie building the bikes. I’m gonna save up to go to the Harley mechanic’s school in Colorado. Ivy told me about it. Then, I’ll have a good cover.”

Herja figured she knew where this was going. “Cover?”

“I want to do what Wraith does. Go in, take the bad guys out. I’ll have to get my sisters raised up first.”

Herja shook her head. “That’s our job. You focus on what you want. If you wanna be Wraith, then do it. Just know, you’re picking the most dangerous path. What happened to you, could happen again when you’re undercover. You gotta get forged with steel, be able to walk through anything, not freeze up if the path repeats. We’ve got a good dojo we like. You’ll get strong so you can bring it to those that smash others down; smash them down for a change.”

Ajai stared into the fire. “I understand.”

“It’s not the Dine way,” said Rota, on her other side. “They prefer the path of peace. You must be certain that’s what you want.”

“I want to protect those who have no voice. I want to hear those who no one listens to.”

“That’s a worthy goal,” said Herja. “Your name shall be Alvitr, or all-wise. You must know when to fight, when to use guile, when to walk away, when to punish, and when to have mercy.”

Ajai held her hands out, and Herja took one, Rota the other. “The gods have sent us a warrior daughter,” said Herja. “We are beyond blessed.”

“We owe Wraith, for saving you, for making us a family,” said Rota.

“You owe me nothing,” said Wraith, coming over to crouch in front of them. “Or, if you think you do, pay it forward.”

“I will,” said Alvitr/Ajai.

Ivy went into the Eurythmics’ Sweet Dreams, followed by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts’ I Love Rock n’ Roll. They continued with Meridith Brooks’ Bitch, making them sway. Herja hopped up and sang Evanescence’s Bring Me to Life, with Devastator.

Alvitr/Ajai’s jaw hit the ground. “I have the coolest mom,” she said.

Wraith laughed as Rota humphed. “I am out-classed by my own wife,” she said.

The songs eventually stopped, leading to simple guitar. The women’s voices rose, fell, melted together. The music was sexy and haunting, and it carried across the water. Those that could hear fell asleep —or were unable to sleep, haunted by the melodies, or craving to be in the arms of their own private angel —or Valkyrie, as the case may be.

Morning found the waffle houses and cafes stuffed full. Many found their solace in coffee, cola, or a pecan waffle and syrup, sugar high. The Iron Knights left first, then the Valkyries struck their tents, after ensuring all the Wounded Warriors had rides to wherever they wanted to go.

Getting the teens up and the tents struck nearly took cattle prods. Ivy returned with two cases of cola, and they moved faster. They fed them all on the outdoor patio of a cafe, where they consumed stacks of pancakes, platters of bacon and sausages, and enough syrup to fill up the lake behind them. They went paddle boarding, and had a lunch of sandwiches and potato chips by the lakeside. Then, they headed home to Vegas, pounding out music in their ears, faces to the wind. This time they had a beautiful time. Everyone won.

“Sometimes life is two steps forward, and four back.”

5

Loss

“Loss is the gift that keeps on giving, through grief.”

Saying Goodbye

Ace went home early. Shutting the place down, restocking the bar, counting all the till —it used to appeal to him, or at least satisfy him. But now, he felt exhausted at ten, did what restocking he could in the seconds in between orders, and was out by eleven at the latest. He was recovering from surgery; he knew that.

It annoyed him to ask Nina, his bar back, to come in early to help move the deliveries into the walk-in, or to scoop ice. And, he was getting better, less inclined to drop things, like expensive beer mugs. But, he felt shaky and a little sick at ten, nearly on the dot, so he did as his physical therapist told him to. He listened to his body.

Once he was out, on the streets, it was still early in Vegas. The traffic wasn’t fun, and pedestrians leapt out in front of him as if suicidal. Many times, he had been glad for the relative nimbleness of a Harley. A truck would have killed more than one drunken reveler, crossing the street in the dark in dark clothing.

Once, he almost ran over a guy and his kids crossing the street in the dark, because of dark clothing. He made a U-turn, swung around, and gave the guy the scare of his life.

“If you want to take yourself out, fine, but taking out your kids? What are you doing? And why the hell are your kids awake at one in the morning?” The guy was sober, a swing worker taking the kids back to the ex.

Ace told him to wear reflective jackets at night and to make sure his kids didn’t get run over. The guy agreed wholeheartedly, and swore he’d never do it again. He felt bad about scaring the guy, but the kids deserved better.

He made it home without any life-threatening incidents. He had listened to his body. Now, it told him, say, ‘hello’ to your wife if she’s awake. He parked the bike after damn near gliding it in so as not to wake up the neighbors. He went in, and got dog kisses. He played with them, gave them a few commands. They obeyed perfectly, so he showered them with praise.

He took off his leathers and his boots, and went to the kitchen and drank some water. He went into the bedroom, and found Lily sleeping. He stripped and took a shower, quietly, so as not to wake her; the dogs went back to their beds. The bathroom door opened, and he thought his wife would pee and go back to bed. Instead, through the glass, he saw her strip quickly, and step in. She held him tightly and he stroked her hair, feeling the hot water beating on his back.

She kissed him, long and low, then sweet with a hint of sadness.

Must be thinking about her brother, he thought to himself. He stroked his hands through her hair, down her back. She kissed him more insistently, stroking her hands down his back, encircling his cock with her fingers, grabbing his balls and squeezing He kissed her harder, stronger. Stroking down her back and cupping her buttocks. All thoughts of getting clean left his mind. He wanted to get dirty with her.

He cupped her breasts, kissed them one by one, then sucked one while caressing the other. He felt her back arch, felt her go up and over. She screamed into his mouth. He switched breasts, and slipped one of his hands He touched her thighs, found her button, made her scream and claw his back as he put his finger on her spot and vibrated it.

She came, again and again, in shuddering waves that made her nearly sob. She held on tightly to his neck, and he lifted her hips, settling her onto him. She chose the rhythm, rising and falling, and he lifted her to help her. They came at the same time, her kisses raining down on his lips, his neck. He lifted her off, and washed them both. He washed, then conditioned her hair, and she moaned with pleasure.

She stepped out. He shaved, then turned off the water, and took the towel she offered him. He dried himself quickly, and so did she. He blow-dried her hair as she added the lotions and potions she liked to her skin, making her smell of jasmine and cherry blossom.

They went to bed. He held her, her head on his shoulder, her leg over his stomach. He put the other hand on her thigh. She snuggled in, and both were asleep in moments.

She woke suddenly. He looked at the time with one eye, a little after four in the morning. He closed the eye, until she touched his face. He opened it again.

“I know where I want to put the ashes.”

Devlin, her brother. She’d been staring at the urn of ashes, on a shelf in the living room. She sometimes talked to it. They were both out cold in the hospital, dark days they’d been letting go of. Devlin had no will, so Ivy had Devlin cremated and put in a simple urn. She had given information about places to put the ashes, or where to spread them, but there were too many blows in too little time. They hadn’t had a ceremony for the miscarriage, either. Lily had been so fragile.

He attempted to get his mind in gear. “Where?” he asked.

“I was trying to figure it out. Why put it somewhere? I mean, am I really going to visit a plot or a mausoleum somewhere? He’s dead. He’s here,” she said, and pointed at her head. “And here.” She pointed at her heart. “I was so hung up on where he liked to go, what he liked to do. He was never really into sports, except skating, and he gave up skateboards when he got into drinking and meth. What am I going to do? Spread his ashes at a meth house? Bury him with a fifth of Jim Beam? That’s his addiction. That’s not who he was.”

“So, where?” asked Ace, struggling to focus. He wanted to sleep until noon, and grab some food, then head into work. He put the thought of sleep out of his mind. His wife was making progress, so he needed to try and keep up.

“So, I decided to put him someplace where I like to go. He’s dead, right? This is really for me, not him. It’s in all the grief recovery thingies… books. Anyway, he should be where I like, so I can be at peace. He’s already there. He died sober, and could see a new way of life. I’m really grieving what he didn’t get to have, what we have —home, family, lots of friends, work we love, dogs, family… did I say family?”

“Once or twice,” he said, trying to follow the flow of words.

“So, I was thinking Lake Havasu. Love the paddle boarding. Very peaceful. It’s my favorite spot. But, I don’t go there all the time. So… Lake Mead!”

“That’s great,” he said, still trying to keep up. At least Lake Mead was close.

“Let’s go,” she said, springing up. She put on underwear, then a camisole bra top.

“Honey,” he said, “It’s four in the morning. Can we do it…”

“Sunrise,” she said. “Perfect.”

If his wife said it was perfect, then it was perfect. Ace stood, put on briefs, then struggled with sleepy fingers and a non-working brain to put on jeans.

She grabbed a top and ran out of the room. He sat heavily. He texted Ivy that he would be out at Lake Mead at Devlin’s sunrise funeral, and that he may not be in to work, due to lack of sleep. He sent the text, forgetting that it was Monday and Dirty Vegas would be closed. He groaned, then figured out that Ivy would just ignore it, realizing he had a stupid brain.

He put on socks and a shirt, and stumbled out of the bedroom to get coffee. He stumbled back in when he saw his hair in the bedroom mirror. He brushed it, then stumbled toward the bathroom.

Ivy got the message, then sat up in bed. “Wha…” asked Callie.

“Do your Chinese thing and get Bao over here to watch the kids.” She slapped her own forehead. “I forgot, they’re already there. It’s Devlin’s funeral. At Lake Mead. This morning.” She threw her legs off the bed.

Callie realized that her wife was making sense in the morning. She got the words “funeral” and “Lily,” but the idea of “Devlin” confused her until she realized it was Lily’s brother. She stood, lurched, and made it to the bathroom. She peed forever, then stumbled back in. Ivy took her place, already dressed in jeans.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” she said, heading toward a hairbrush.

They managed to get dressed and onto the bikes. Callie headed for some breakfast burritos and grabbed several cans of Coke after feeding the dog; she had her own dog door. They consumed them while putting on their leathers. Callie sent a text in Chinese saying they were headed out for the day to Bao, and they headed out.

Gregory received the text from Ivy about the funeral. He kissed his wife, and told her he had to go out. He dressed silently, pulling on black jeans and a black shirt. Lily was not a coat and tie type of person. He crept out, careful not to wake the babies, sleeping in their cribs, their little faces peaceful.

He also did not want to wake up the babushkas. They had moved in until the babies slept through the night. He had no privacy, but he and his wife also got more sleep. He heated a breakfast burrito and grabbed some sodas.

Katya nearly made him crawl out of his skin, appearing behind him, fully dressed. “You go to funeral. I got same text. I go. I bring express milk thing, put in —how do you say? —saddlebag. We are family. We go together.”

He held her close. “You are the best wife in the world,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“This, I know,” she said, opening the microwave door and stealing his breakfast burrito. She reached behind him, and pulled another one out of the freezer. “I make another,” she said, putting it in the microwave. “I get pack,” she said, trundling down the hall, eating the burrito.

Don’t know what I did to deserve her, thought Gregory, but she’s mine.

Tito got the text. He was already up; he was planning on shamelessly using the Wolfpack’s child labor to clean out a new acquisition, a trashed duplex he intended to restore and sell, probably to one of the Nighthawks. He sent a text to cancel, and received one back from Henry that the teens were being herded into the van to sleep on the way.

Vi volunteered to watch the baby and the elders, and the rest of the household took last night’s reheated biscuits and sodas or coffee on the road. The teens were zombies, but Nantan had them in the truck, back asleep under blankets, in record time.

Ghost and Killa woke up Bonnie, and they headed out in the dark. Bear had been sleeping at the club, and he followed.

Ace’s efforts to slow his wife down so he could drink more caffeine were nixed. He did manage to cook her a fast scrambled egg and reheated precooked bacon and get her to eat. Then, the urn went in the saddlebag, and they were off.

The phalanx wasn’t behind them by much. Lost in their own thoughts, they opened the throttle, and soon left them behind, not knowing they were being followed.

They went to the spot they usually went, to the cliff looking out over the lake, translucent in the pre-dawn light. Ace received a text from Ivy asking where they were. He replied, confused, and put the phone on vibrate in his pocket. He wanted to pay attention to his wife.

“Tell me everything about him,” he said, looking out over the water. She talked about the boy she followed everywhere, and he settled in to listen.

They heard the bikes long before they saw them, long lines of Harleys followed by a van, with lights on in the darkness. Lily clutched her chest, urn at her feet, and turned to watch them come up, with tears streaming down her face. Ace realized his text had set off a wave of concern from their friends… no, their family. He wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, and had tears of his own at their standing with them. The tears fell onto her hair.

They came up, parked the bikes, locked their helmets, and came to embrace them. Ivy and Callie first, then Gregory and Katya, Tito and several of his brood, Henry and David, Inola and Bella, Nantan and Jeffrey, and a herd of half-awake teens tumbling out of a giant van. They stood, and, once Lily had wiped away her tears, she found her voice.

“My brother was an idiot,” she said. They all laughed. “He didn’t get how much I loved him. I used to follow him around, try to do the things he did, like baseball and skateboarding. He ignored me. I tried to protect him from Dad’s temper, and we both failed there. We would hide in closets or under the bed, sneak out the windows, go hide in the neighbor’s backyard under their trampoline. He never figured out the trampoline thing.” She laughed, a bitter one.

They were all silent.

“He got into drinking, then drugs, like our dad. It’s genetic, you know, and he was trying to stop the pain. Then he got sober, for a little while, and he was getting some peace. He apologized to me, right before he died. He knew he lived his life wrong and he wanted to live his life right. He never got that chance.”

Ace held her hand, proud of her strength, now.

“Devlin, you idiot, I love you. I forgive you. And I fucking wish you’d had that chance. So, I’ll take that chance for you. I’m married, now. Someone else is having our baby, which is weird, but it works for us.” There was laughter, and Ace kissed his wife’s temple. “We have Kieran and Pavel, and dogs, and we’re thinking of getting a cat, because I want to be a cat’s slave.” More laughter rippled out.

The mood lightened as they all felt a part of something.

“I stand here, surrounded by family, one you didn’t get to know. So, I’m getting to know them, and loving them like crazy, and we’re going to go to places and do things that are fun and happy. I’ll live a great life. And, when I join you in this water someday, and I’ve knocked on Heaven’s door, I’ll tell you all about that life. I believe people get reborn, that this is a giant lesson in spiritual stuff, like how to live and how to love. I hope you come back and get to try again, to do it better next time. Then, you can come and tell me all about yours. Just, don’t be an idiot next time. Learn how to love.” She opened the urn as the dawn shed light across her face, and it spilled into the air, falling on the water. She then threw the urn off the cliff. “Be free, you idiot,” she said, into the wind. “Find your peace.”

Ace held her close, and she put her face against his arm. He felt the hot wetness of tears on his skin.

Ivy stepped forward. “Find your peace, and learn how to love,” she said, moving to stand next to Ace.

Callie stepped next to Ivy. “Find out how to have a family in your next life.”

Henry stepped forward, and stood next to Ace on his other side. “Find the Great Road, and walk upon it with others.”

David stepped forward, and stood next to Henry. “Be free, and remember that your sister loved you.”

Numa stepped forward, and stood next to David. “Let it go, and be free. Fly forward to the next life.”

Tito stepped forward, his kids in tow, and stood next to Numa. “Have kids. They’re the best thing ever.”

Gregory stood forward, with Katya, and stood next to Callie. “We’ll tell our nieces and nephews about you, and love them for you.” Ace and Lily both sobbed a little at that one.

Nantan took the teens forward. “Be free, my brother. I never knew you, but fly like a hawk into the dawn.”

Ghost, Killa, and Bonnie stepped forward, and stood next to Katya. Ghost said, “When Lily sees you again.”

They sang then, When I See You Again, by Wiz Khalifa and Charlie Puth, softly, into the dawn. Then David, Henry, and Numa sang him home, their voices rising and falling. Nantan sang the songs of his people. They held each other; crying, laughing, walking around, talking to each other, hugging each other.

They found a waffle house, and loaded up on pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, and biscuits loaded with butter and honey. They talked about the day they met each other, each willing to head down memory lane. The teens got into it, talking about their first day at the ranch, meeting the horses, learning how to pick strawberries.

“It’s easy,” said Alo. “I put them high, so they hang down. Just reach up, grab them.”

The teens settled in when they talked about rides. “We need another one,” said Alo. “Let’s go someplace epic.”

Ripples of laughter went around the table. Nantan smiled, pulled paper and a pen out his pocket, and said, “Get some places, and some things to do. Then, make a list of places to go. Winter’s coming, so colder places need to be seen, now. Think south in winter.”

Laughter rippled around the table again. “Think Grand Canyon now, Redwoods now,” said Gregory. “San Diego in winter.”

“Now?” asked Alo. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” asked Henry.

“The Grand Canyon.”

“That’s four hours over, five back,” said Henry.

“It’s eight in the morning. Why not?” asked Alo.

“Kid has a point,” said Nantan. “They’ve been working hard.”

“I go home,” said Katya, decisively. “But you go,” she said, kissing Gregory.

“I’ll take you,” said Inola to Katya, then kissing Bella.

“I need something from saddlebag,” said Katya.

“I bet it’s the same thing I brought,” said Inola. They walked away, hand in hand.

“We need snacks,” said Alo. Everyone laughed.

So, they sent the mothers off, and headed off to Arizona, their songs loud in their ears. Henry texted ahead before leaving the waffle house, and old friends texted back to say they would be there.

Gregory and Lily went out first, teens on bikes behind them, the teen helmets helpfully kept in the back of the van. The teens agreed to rotate riding. The teens put themselves in charge of the music, and songs played in their ears.

They made good time. They had lunch in Kingman, Arizona, at a funky diner, with sandwiches and salads. They grabbed some drinks, and headed out.

It seemed like half a tribe of Paiutes were there to greet Henry, Numa, and David. Some Sioux were there to greet Nantan, and he smiled, overjoyed at being able to speak his language. The kids ran around, looking at everything. Gregory, Ace, and Lily kept an eye on them. They ate snacks, drank water, and looked into the vastness of the canyon. They stayed ‘till nearly sundown.

They rode back, kids trading out on who rode with whom. Two more kids were slid into the back of the van, bruised boys named Nico and Tam. They jumped at loud noises. Nantan gave them blankets and sodas, let them sit up in front. They took it slower going back, stopping off in Kingman for a late dinner. The boys were absolutely silent.

Shit, thought Nantan. Now I’ve got to take the parenting classes. Those boys are not going back to where they came from.

They made it back late, and everyone trundled off to bed. Bella rushed up the outer spiral stairs toward her wife. Nantan took the herd to their pods, and then Nantan took the boys to the apartment they’d set up with sleeping pods over the plants downstairs.

“I sleep at the other end of the hall,” he said. “Bathroom’s next to you. There is a little fridge there with sodas and waters in it. We’ve got chores early in the morning.” He closed the door, leaving the tired, frightened boys to figure out who got the top or bottom bunk.

He slapped his own head —clothes. They had a box of them in the other house, as the kids often arrived with little. He went next door, and got packages of boxers and socks, and some jeans and T-shirts they’d bought from thrift stores. He put the clothes in a duffel. He went back and climbed the stairs, and gently knocked on the door.

“I’ve got a duffel here. I’m going to put it inside the door. It’s some clothes.” He opened the door, dropped it in, then shut the door.

He remembered the tablets. He went back to the dorm house, grabbed two off the shelf still in their boxes, and walked them back. He climbed the stairs, and knocked on the door.

“You’ll want to unbox these and plug them in. You have classes after chores.” He put the boxes on the floor, just inside the door, and shut it again.

He heard scrabbling, and “Whoa!” from the older one, Nico. “Tam, do you see an outlet anywhere?” Smiling, Nantan headed down the hall to bed.

Regroup

Nantan was careful. This was different. The boys were refugees from a war played out in a crazy man’s head, and they acted like it. They hoarded food in their room, until Nantan explained about bugs. He bought them a tiny refrigerator and let them keep some snacks and sodas in it, but no dirty cups or dishes; those had to be put in a tub outside the door and washed in the morning. The trash had to be kept in a rubber trash can with a seal. They complied, as long as they knew they would have access to food and drink. They also bolted their food, as if it would be taken away from them.

“Where’s the fire?” one or the other of the Wolfpack would remind them. “Food’s good,” said Ajai. “Taste it, it’s better that way.” It took time, but the boys slowed down their eating, primarily not to seem stupid or silly in front of the other kids.

They didn’t steal or lie. They did jump at loud noises. Nantan made it very clear to the teens that teasing them in any way, with loud noises or ribbing, would not be tolerated. No “fun” pranks, or they would lose any TV or game privileges. They complied, primarily because Ajai, Willow, and Ruby watched the boys like hawks. They made sure they learned how to access their lessons, that they did their schoolwork, and trained them on their chores.

The boys were absolutely in love with the rabbits. Inola taught them how to feed the angora rabbits, clean their cages, and pick up the molted fur and put it in the sealed fur bin.

“Why do we save the fur?” asked Tam.

“Thirty dollars a bag,” said Inola.

“Wow,” said Nico. “What’s it for?”

“It’s spun into yarn and made in to ultra-soft sweaters, mufflers, baby blankets, and the like.” Inola showed them how to pet them —very carefully.

Chores were rotated, so Nico and Tam learned to load the dishwasher, soak and sometimes scrub pots, create simple meals like bacon and eggs or grilled cheese sandwiches. Then tomato soup from a can, or sweep, mop, vacuum, dust, and muck out the stables. Tam was terrified of the horses, so Nico switched with him when he had to feed, curry, or walk them.

The greenhouse astonished and fascinated them. Nantan showed them how the LED lights and misters were set on timers, and the different beds of plants all growing with different-colored lights. He showed them the huge variation in heirloom seeds that produced potatoes and carrots from white to purple, with the carrots making a detour into orange. He showed how to use the gloves and the small cutter to cut fruits and vegetables from the vine, from strawberries to melons, from watermelon to zucchini. The boys learned how to plant the plants on the cloth-like matrix of recycled paper, and how to check the system to be sure everything was working right. Both boys loved to do the checklist, from planting to harvesting.

Nantan taught them the names of all the plants, and their resulting fruit or vegetable. He also taught them the best methods for harvesting, and how to cut the vegetables and fruits and put them into their boxes. The boys loved and were dazzled by it all. They also developed mad knife skills.

Ajai and Willow were in charge of their room inspection, showing them how to change their sheets, color-coded to them in particular. Since they had a full house and all the colors were taken, Nantan had the superhero conversation with them.

“Iron Man,” said Nico. “He rocks.”

“Hawkeye,” said Tam. “He can shoot arrows.”

“We can teach you that,” said Nantan. They were overjoyed. So, Nantan ordered everything Iron Man, from sheets to pillowcases to comforters to blankets, even toothbrushes and toothbrush cup.

Tam got Hawkeye almost everything, but had to settle for the arrow-emblazoned toothbrush and cup holder. He got three sets of the sheets, and needed a rubber under-sheet for Tam. He wet the bed in his sleep during his nightmares. Nico helped his brother change the sheets in the night, and Nantan made sure the sheets were stored in the room itself.

Clothes were easy. An hour in a Wal-Mart and they were set. They loved their new jeans. Nantan even got them cowboy boots and hats. He got them leather jackets at a thrift store. The boys loved them. They gained weight and shot up a bit. Their teeth were checked, and they had no cavities, probably because they’d eaten so little. Now, they craved cookies, something Vi was happy to provide; oatmeal, apple, chocolate-chip, and macadamia nut cookies. They couldn’t get enough.

Nantan never entered their room. He figured their crazy father had done that enough. He never raised his voice, or made sudden moves or loud noises around them. He didn’t drink, and what little liquor they had in the farmhouse was primarily for cooking, and Vi kept it locked up.

They were way behind the other kids in school. Henry tested them. Nantan could have sent them to the Nighthawks club school, but they loved sitting with the other students at the house in their beanbag chairs. Henry and Callie got them at the right levels, and they zipped through them. Alo slowly and steadily got them through math; the math games on their tablets helped. They even played them at night in their beds. Catori helped them with their reading. They responded well to her gentle tone of voice, and her laughter. They wanted to participate in the coding contests Yanaba and Gwen liked to hold. The boys soon zipped past Yoki, Lena, and Elu, who spent more time giggling than coding. Henry made them study separately, in completely different corners or rooms, and their grades took a sudden jump up. They were still allowed to do chores together, as long as the chores actually got done.

* * *

Inola had them shovel horse shit and haul hay as soon as she could. “They’re animals, very intelligent ones,” she said to Tam. “Your fear scares them. Face your fear. Start with petting the ponies. They’re smaller, and they are docile.”

“What’s docile?” asked Tam.

“Calm,” said Inola. “Relaxed. Take a deep breath, let it out. Good. Put your shoulders down; they don’t need to be around your ears. Good. Now, just look at Spice. He’s a kind of cinnamon color. Very calm, very relaxed horse. See his eyes? His mane? That’s the hair down his neck. His front feet, his back feet. Now, when you go to see him, you bring him some of these.” She handed Tam some carrots. “Keep them in your pocket. Now, let’s go feed him some.”

“No!” said Tam. He raised his shoulders nearly to his ears and clenched his fists.

“Breathe,” said Inola. “You stopped breathing, there.” He sucked in a breath.

“Fear,” said Inola, “Is good, if you are crossing the street. It’s a good idea to look both ways, and to jump out of the way if some asshole tries to run you over, right?” Tam nodded, and smiled because Inola used a bad word.

“Yes, so, that’s good fear. I’m afraid of sticking my hands in the fire at a cookout. I keep back, careful with the stick I use to roast my marshmallows. I want to roast the marshmallows, not me!”

Tam laughed. “Can we roast marshmallows?”

“We’ve got a fire pit out back. Don’t see why not. We usually do it during game night, after the games and popcorn and sodas.”

“When’s that?” asked Tam.

“Tomorrow night,” said Inola. She grinned as Tam actually rubbed his hands together with glee. “Anyway, fear tends to turn your brain off. It’s set on fight or flight. Both might be good moves, but it usually causes you to freeze first. Freezing is great when you need time to think. It’s bad when a bear is chasing you.”

“You’ll get it,” said Tam.

“Exactly,” said Inola. “And, unless the bear is attacking someone else, it’s smarter to flee, not fight, a bear.”

“So, fear makes you freeze, and freezing can be bad.”

“Yes, Tam,” said Inola. “It also turns off your brain. Remember, horses rarely act out. If they do, they are usually scared. Like if they see a snake. A horse will leap away from the snake, which is actually smart. Or, if someone abuses them, they learn bad behavior because they’re scared.”

“Like if someone hits them?”

“Exactly like that,” said Inola, knowing perfectly well they were no longer talking about horses. “Scared horses run away; they nip, they bite, they buck off riders, because they’re scared. We use techniques to help them stop being scared. We’re gentle with them. We don’t hit them or make loud noises or yell at them. We show them we love them by keeping their stalls clean, feeding them good food, letting them out into the sunshine in the morning. We feed them carrots and apples, talk to them gently, and pet them. We walk them and comb and curry them. We check their hooves for rocks. We call the vet when they’re sick. We love them. And, they calm down, and we show them we trust them. So, they trust us.”

“I can clean out their stalls,” said Tam. “After they’re out.”

“That’s a good start,” said Inola. She showed him how to muck out the stables, working with him. She sang “The Never-ending Song,” making him laugh. She showed him how to clean the tack, and how much food each horses needed at night.

Late that night, as Nantan made sure they brushed their teeth, Tam rinsed his mouth, spat, and turned to Nantan. “Was my father scared?” he asked.

Nantan knew he had to answer the question well. “Yes,” he said. “Bullies who harm others are usually taught that by others, like their fathers. They grow up scared and angry, so they take these emotions out on others. They are afraid of being less, of being laughed at, of being ignored, but their behavior makes them less. It makes other people stay away. They are also afraid of those bigger than them, so they hit those smaller than them to make their small souls feel bigger. So, they get more angry, more fearful, and behave in worse and worse ways. It is a terrible trap.”

“I hate Dad,” said Nico.

“That’s understandable,” said Nantan. “His behavior was unacceptable. But, his father did it to him, maybe back ten generations. He learned it. The idea, if you learned it, is to unlearn it. Be and behave the opposite. Strength is being physically strong, yet gentle and kind. It is in defending others who are smaller than you from those who would hurt them. It is in listening with both ears and your heart. It is in learning all you can so you can make intelligent decisions, ones not based on strong emotions, like anger or fear.”

“Let’s read,” said Tam. So, Nantan sat them down in the hallway right there, pulled out his cell phone, and read to them. When their eyes were starting to close, he sent them to their room to sleep.

The chores, once Tam got over his fear of the horses, made them strong and lean. Dena raced them everywhere, and they stopped huffing and puffing after the first week or so. Vi’s huge breakfasts and dinners put meat on their bones, and probably the late-night snacking did as well.

Getting them to bed was the problem. Other than their tendencies to read under the covers, something Nantan embraced wholeheartedly, they didn’t want to miss anything. They went through life with wide eyes and, over time, eager smiles. They still had nightmares, where one would comfort the other. They still jumped at loud noises. But, they were slowly settling in, their skin turning a deeper cinnamon from being in the sun.

Nantan desperately needed a day off. The pickers rotated, even through Saturday and Sunday, so that wasn’t the problem. Game night had gone great; he’d played a little, then slipped away to get some things from the store and give himself a Sonic sundae. He’d even arrived in time for the last games, and some s’mores. The boys ate two each, smearing their faces with chocolate and marshmallow. He’d had to use three wet wipes on them. He took them for trail rides, always with another teen or adult, when Tam would finally sit on a pony.

Once he realized he wouldn’t get bucked off, Tam loved riding. Getting him off his favorite pony, Spice, was the problem. They often had movie nights and gaming contests, and the boys loved coding their own games. What he needed was time alone. So, he set up “camping” in the big house in tents in the living room; it was too cold at night in the winter in the desert. Vi showed them how to bake cookies for the “trip,” and Henry and David were set to tell them many stories.

The problem was, of course, the boys not wanting him to go. They begged him to stay.

Henry solved the problem by saying, “Nantan is Sioux, like you. Warriors need time alone with their thoughts, to relax, to gather their strength together.”

Henry had been learning Sioux, and sang the song of going forth well. It was a hunting song, but good enough, so Nantan sang back. He went out, put on his helmet, and rode away on his Harley, tears on his face at the goodness of Henry, loving the little boys and honoring him with a Sioux hunting song.

Little Bill and Keyan met him at a restaurant in Boulder City, overlooking the lake. Little Bill and Keyan were both Apache, but Little Bill was huge and all muscle, with dark skin and long, blue-black hair he kept in a braid.

Keyan was a slight man with a lilting voice and strong hands, his hair also in a braid. Little Bill taught Sioux, so he gave Nantan a thick box of textbooks, workbooks, and storybooks in Apache.

“Thanks for this,” said Nantan, in Apache. “I need to teach them. I wrote a little program —I had help from the coding girls, but this will help me teach more.” The server came up, and all three men ordered steaks, potatoes, vegetables, and colas.

“Show me pictures,” said Little Bill. Nantan showed him the boys on hiking trails, on ponies, stuffing their faces with pizza. “Norman boys, healthy,” said Little Bill. “Show me their test scores.” Nantan pulled up and explained the scores. “They are much improved,” he said.

“Their weight is up. The psychologist says they are doing well. The nightmares are farther apart. It breaks my heart not to go in and comfort them, but I understand why I must not set foot in their rooms. Ajai helps them keep it clean, everything in its place. She made me order boxes, and bins, and a label machine. Now the boys have labels for everything, even their sleeping pods! Nico calls his The Nest, and Tam calls his…” Nantan had to clear his throat, “his home.”

“Good,” said Keyan. “They are doing better than we hoped. Bodaway is still in jail. He cannot come up with bail.”

“And Anpona, his wife?”

“We are suing to have the machines turned off. It is terrible for her to be kept alive against her will. But, Bodaway insists that she live, and even though he is the one that hit her, he has not yet been convicted. So, the courts are siding with him.”

Nantan snorted. “Of course he says that. If she dies, his charges turn to murder.”

“We failed,” said Little Bill. “The house is just off the reservation, so we did not have jurisdiction. We sent women to talk to Anpona, but she was weak and exhausted. We brought clothes, food, and medicine for the boys, but either Bodaway used what we brought for himself, or he destroyed it, saying he did not wish to take charity. It is only because the boy is registered full Sioux, and that they ran into the res to call for help, that we can now help them. We want them on the res, but they are safer and happier with you.”

“Thank you,” said Nantan.

They spoke of jobs and fishing and rides other inconsequential things. Nantan was just happy to hear and speak his language.

Both men clasped hands with him. “Go,” said Keyan. “Your man stares at you.” Juan was sitting at the bar, staring longingly at Nantan.

Nantan sighed. “He did not agree with my taking all my responsibilities, and now I have two more.” He laughed without mirth. “I wonder what he will say now.”

“Find out,” said Keyan. “He may surprise you.”

“Good night,” said Nantan. He watched them leave.

Juan brought his soda over to Nantan. “Is this seat taken?” he asked.

“No,” said Nantan. “Please sit.”

Juan sat heavily in the booth. “Friends of yours?”

“I hope so,” said Nantan. “And they are here to make sure the boys are well.”

“Wolfpack,” said Juan, drinking more cola.

“No, Apache boys. I am adopting them, if it is to be.”

Juan nearly dropped his can. “Adopting?”

Nantan sighed. “Their father hit their mother over the head and put her in the hospital. She will die. She was finally trying to protect her boys.” He pulled up a picture he had taken their first day, their bruises clear on their faces, and terror and resignation in their eyes.

“Dios mio,” said Juan. “And now?”

Nantan scrolled to a more recent picture, of the boys laughing during a card game. “Wonderful before and after photos,” said Juan. “You have the touch. Horses and Apache boys.” Juan smiled, sadly. “I get it, now. This is your life’s work. You raise things, plants and horses and teens and boys. I just…” Juan looked away. “I just wanted a man, you know? To laugh with, share a life with. I’m young. I want to see life, do things, not be tied to a farm and kids.”

“You made that clear before,” said Nantan, sipping his own cola. A waitress came and took the plates, and Nantan smiled at her. He paid the check that she left, and left a generous tip.

“I miss you,” said Juan. “Other guys aren’t you. You’re funny, and strong, and speak three languages, and can cook. I’m just some guy who works in a casino.”

“Ah,” said Nantan. “You’re selling yourself short. These plants, and horses, and people are my life; bring me great joy. And, it is fucking exhausting. That’s part of why I’m here, a break from all the responsibilities you don’t want to shoulder. They could bring you great joy, too.”

“I know,” said Juan. “I’m just not ready. And,” he said, holding up a hand, “I’m not asking you to wait.”

“What are you asking for?”

“One night,” said Juan. “Just one damn night.”

Nantan followed Juan to his hotel, one that looked out over the lake. They came together in the dark, the stars outside their window. Juan was tentative at first, content to let Nantan lead, but Nantan stepped back, forcing Juan to reach out. They took off each other’s clothes in the dark; leathers and boots, then shirts. They pulled each other close, kissing deeply, hands on the back of each other’s heads. Juan took of Nantan’s jeans, and Nantan took off Juan’s, stroking his back. They got off the underwear and socks, and Juan got some courage. He pushed Nantan into the wall, and kissed him, touched him, licked and kissed his neck, then his shoulder. He slid his fingers down, clutched Nantan’s buttocks, felt Nantan’s hardness in his hands. He knelt then, kissed, stroked, and sucked, and held Nantan’s balls in one hand while he held the base of his penis with the other. Nantan came with a groan, pushing his head back against the wall. He reached down to his jeans and pulled out wet wipes. He wiped himself down while Juan washed his hands in the bathroom. They fell on the bed into each other’s arms, and fought the dawn.

When Nantan woke, there was nothing, not even a note. He stared at the ceiling, but he was unable to regret their last night together. He took a shower, dressed, and went down to the hotel’s coffee shop for pancakes, bacon, and orange juice. He looked out over the lake, and then got on his Harley. He didn’t look back.

Stupidity

They were on a snack break, everyone having done chores and eaten breakfast, or vice versa., except for Alo, Alicia, Elu, and Yanaba, who had gone to work with Tito for the day. Henry ran the GED classes on the Pomodoro method, so they had four rounds of two, twenty-five-minute classes, with ten minutes in between. So, they had a thirty-minute break, where everyone ran around grabbing snacks and sodas, and played video games at the table. Jacy and Yas were having a “fuck you” conversation, with them saying, “Fuck you!” to each other.

Ajai gave them a little glare; they settled down and fought in their video game. She kept an eye on Tam and Nico; they were finally eating healthy snacks, apples and nuts. They actually spoke occasionally, too, and their bruises were gone.

Nantan heard shouting outside, and he stood up. He looked out the glass surrounding the front door, and he held his hands at his side. He touched his ring finger to his thumb, first on one hand, then the other.

Tam and Nico went wide-eyed, stood, and ran out the back door. What the fuck?” asked Yas.

Ajai shushed him with a glare, and hurried to the sports box as Nantan opened the door and stepped out. She grabbed two baseball bats. “Willow and Ruby, follow the boys. Guard the door.” She took out two more.

Willow rushed to her, and took it. “The rest of you, go upstairs.” Ajai pulled out her phone, and, one-handed, typed a 911 and sent it to Henry.

She sent a second 911 to her mothers, Herja and Rota, replying to one they sent. She didn’t know that both Wraith and Ivy were CC’d on it; it had been about a Valkyrie’s picnic.

She nodded to Yoki, who nodded back. They stepped out on the porch, bats in hand. The arguing boys finally realized that the girls were deadly serious about something, and they looked out the window. There was a man that looked like a wider, meaner version of Nantan, standing at the bottom of the steps and screaming. He was glaring at Nantan and waving his fists, and swaying a little. He looked either drunk or high.

“Oh, shit,” said Jacy. He pulled out his cell, and called David. “Get over to our house!” he shouted. “Really big angry guy going after Nantan.”

“You stay put,” said David, who grabbed the gun out of the locked case in the living room.

Henry already had the pump-action shotgun off from over the door, and was loading shells.

“Sister,” he said, “Turn off the ovens and whatnot and get you and Sofia upstairs. Bella’s gone. Guard Inola and the baby.”

“I’ve got them,” said David, as the lock opened. He filled the rifle with bullets.

“Love you,” said Henry, and he was running out the door with the shotgun.

Ivy was walking out to go to work when she got the text, and so she texted Henry. There was no reply, so she sent a text to Ace to open without her, who sent a 911 to Gregory and Tito, and went full throttle toward the farm.

Wraith was typing up a report on one screen, and researching a nasty little gang of meth head thieves with the other. They’d killed their first cop, and the hounds of Hell were after them. Her phone beeped, and she saw the 911 from Ajai. She grabbed her jacket and was on her bike before she realized she was moving.

Rota had much the same reaction; she was at the new house doing demo with Tito and the kids. Tito got the same text, and told the kids to literally drop what they were doing, and get in the fucking van, now. He barely remembered to lock up behind him.

Herja finished teaching a karate class for the police department. She watched them leave, in various shades of red and pink, depending on how many times she’d thrown them, or had them in locks. Her cell phone shook, and she opened it, thinking Rota was inviting her to dinner or out. She saw the 911, and she ran out like a bat out of hell.

“Iron Knight to me!” she yelled.

“I’m off duty,” said Thrasher, running with her.

“Henry’s farm. 911. My daughter.”

“Fuck,” he said. They put on their helmets, and Thrasher had a police bike, so he opened up with the siren, and they rode like the wind.

Nantan kept his hands by his side. The man in front of him was rock-solid. His nose had been broken several times. He was screaming in a mix of Sioux, English, and Spanish, and he kept changing speeds, from fast to slow and fast again. His pupils were dilated, and he sometimes slurred his words.

Nantan knew who he was the minute he saw the man, and that he was looking at the boys’ father. Henry had gotten his hands on the police reports. Bodaway was not allowed to be within a thousand feet of his wife, who was dying in the hospital in a coma from her injuries. Or his kids, multiple bars, two bosses, and three ex-wives. The boys were too traumatized to see their mother, who looked nothing like the woman they knew, with the side of her face bashed in. There were no other relatives to take the boys.

Bodaway should have been in the process of being convicted of his wife’s murder; he was definitely facing charges of assault with a deadly weapon. He’d taken a baseball bat to his wife after she’d finally gotten a backbone and attempted to stop him from beating the kids with his fists. He’d lost a fight that night at a bar, and had gone home to “win” a fight, by beating up his wife and children.

Nantan parsed enough of the mess the man was yelling to realize he was demanding to see his children.

Who was a stupid enough judge to let this guy out? How did he find this place? Nantan thought.

Their location should have been blacked out in court documents. The tribal elders were the only ones who should have been aware of where the boys were.

“Stop,” he said in Sioux. “Why are you here?”

The man stepped forward, his face getting stonier. “Do you have a brain of stone? You stole my sons!” he screamed.

Behind him, Nantan heard the door open. He saw Ajai out of the corner of one eye, Yoki out of the corner of the other. Both girls were armed with baseball bats. He knew Ajai had been learning from her mother Herja, and that Yoki had played baseball for the past seven years. He actually thought of how to get out of the way if either girl started swinging. He would probably lose a kneecap.

“I stole nothing and no one,” said Nantan.

“You were seen! They got into your van! You are some sort of sick monster!”

The word “pedophile” was an English one, but Nantan knew perfectly well what the man meant.

“I do not harm people,” said Nantan. “I grow plants.”

“Who are these? Your wives?” Bodaway said, swinging his arms. He was building himself up for a fight.

Some people are too mean and stupid to go on, Nantan thought.

“I am Sioux,” he said. “Not a monster.”

Jeffrey came flying up on the big stallion, with a harness but bareback. He reined the horse in behind Bodaway. Bodaway was too stupid to realize that Jeffrey could have let the horse land, feet first, on his head.

“You good?” asked Jeffrey.

“So far,” said Nantan, switching to English.

“You fucking moron,” said Bodaway, swinging an arm at the horse. Jeffrey backed the horse up perfectly.

“I think you may be referring to yourself,” said Henry, riding up on the gorgeous gray mare. Smoke, they had rescued and was training to jump, bareback, with no reins.

Henry held a shotgun loosely in his hands. He let go of the reins, and the horse stood, patiently. He racked the shotgun, an unmistakable sound.

“You are not wanted here. You will leave now.”

“Fuck you,” said Bodaway. stalking towards Nantan.

Nantan held out his hands. He preferred no fighting to fighting. He also didn’t want Henry to have to fill out paperwork, or explain to the boys how their father had died on his doorstep.

“You will stop,” said Nantan, in Sioux. “You will leave this place.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” asked Bodaway, stepping forward.

The girls readied their bats. “He said to leave,” said Ajai. “I am not Sioux, but even I understand his words,” she said, in English. “You are the fool that drinks and injects the money into his veins and wonders why it is gone. That tries to harm others, and wonders why he has no friends. That steals and lies, and wonders why no one trusts him. That destroys a family, and wonders why they are gone. That kills, and wonders why he is in prison. Leave this place, and never return.”

Valkyrie, thought Nantan and Henry, simultaneously.

“Fucking bitch,” said Bodaway. “Tear your fucking arms off and beat you with them.”

“You threatened a child,” said Nantan. “Who does that?”

“Child?” asked Bodaway, genuinely confused.

“This person is sixteen,” said Nantan. “You threatened a female who is sixteen.”

“She...” Bodaway swayed.

“Go,” said Nantan. “I do not care if you drink, or smoke, or do drugs. You can be an asshole somewhere else.”

“Fuck you,” said Bodaway. “Worthless,” he said in Sioux.

“Even I understand what you said,” said Ajai. “It is you who are worthless.”

Bodaway took two steps forward, but he hadn’t seen the boys. They had filled balloons with a mixture of water and dish soap. They opened the window just above the porch. They had to be careful not to strike the roof or the horses. They knew, instinctively, that Henry would kill them if they spooked a horse. So, they both crept out onto the roof. Then, they let fly.

The first water bomb hit Bodaway in the face. The second hit him in the shoulder. He gasped, breathed in water, and choked. Henry looked up, gave a thumbs-up, and specified with a finger. Jacy threw one more, and it hit Bodaway in the legs. The green soap stained his jeans.

“What the fuck!” he said, screaming. He charged, but he had been blinded by the soap.

Nantan held out both hands, and the enraged Bodaway ran up the stairs right into Nantan’s iron grip on his shoulders. Ajai held the bat on the handle farther up, and poked him in the stomach. He attempted to double over, but Nantan’s iron grip held him. Ajai moved her hand back up the grip of the bat, and swung a golf swing in between his legs, holding back. She didn’t want to maim him, just prevent him from fighting. Nantan let him go, and Bodaway doubled over, mewling.

Inola came up on another horse. “Stupid men, forgot the rope,” she said, and lassoed Bodaway. She went up the line right between them. Jeffrey backed up, and Inola tied the rope to her saddle.

Henry kept the gun at his side. “Wrap him up,” he said. “The police will love seeing him.”

Inola jerked, and Bodaway fell over on his side. Inola hopped off the horse. Henry looked up, and motioned for the boys to get back in the house. They helped each other back in the window. Ajai and Nantan walked down the stairs. Henry pointed the gun at the ground as Inola expertly hog-tied him. Bodaway tried to take a swing at Inola, although he could only move his arms up to the elbows.

Ajai handed the bat to Nantan, and expertly grabbed the hand and twisted it in a way that made Bodaway howl.

“Thanks, girlfriend,” said Inola, and she finished hog-tying him.

“Jeffrey,” said Henry, “Text an all-clear to David.” The young man took out his cell and sent the code.

Henry had no idea that Ajai had sent her own 911, and Ajai was too busy pulling back her baseball bat, considering cracking it against Bodaway’s head as he spewed a stream of curse words and invective in three languages.

The dual sounds of the police siren and the Harleys were unmistakable. “Who called the police?” asked Henry.

Ajai recalled her 911 text. “My moms did,” she said.

Herja and Thrasher came running from the parking lot, Herja’s hair streaming out behind her. She took in the horses, Henry’s gun, the baseball bat in her daughter’s hand, Inola’s rope, and the hog-tied man. She motioned for Thrasher to stand down. He figured out the same thing, so he took his hand off the butt of his gun.

“What have we here?” Thrasher said as they arrived at the porch, after stopping to draw breath.

Herja looked at her daughter standing over the man, baseball bat in hand. She smiled with fierce pride. “My daughter, are you well?” she asked, coming to a stop near the horses so as not to spook them.

“I am well,” said Ajai. “This man threatened me, called Nantan nasty things, threatened me, and tried to assault me and Nantan.”

“Assault on a minor,” said Thrasher, advancing with his cuffs.

“Trespassing, attempted murder that will be murder when his wife passes away, and violating restraining orders,” said Nantan.

“Violating court orders,” said Henry. “He wasn’t supposed to have any idea about us.”

The other Harleys were right behind, Rota running all-out to get to her daughter, and Ivy content to watch Thrasher leading away a cursing man. Ivy saw the collision when Rota hugged Ajai. Wraith came up, took in the scene, took off her helmet, and went at a more sedate pace towards Ajai and her mothers.

Ivy went into the main house, and smiled at David, who was watching from the front porch, gun in hand. “You can put that away,” she said.

“What? Oh,” he said, and he broke the gun and took out the bullets. “Thanks,” he said.

“They did good,” said Ivy. “You got any Coke?”

“Yes,” said David, “but you are not supposed to be drinking it.”

“It’s either that or the booze, and one is less bad for me than the other.”

“Hiding behind the pies,” said David.

“We have pie?” asked Ivy.

“Good God, woman,” said David. “A man comes to steal our children, and you want to drink Coke and eat pie?”

“Bad guy is in custody. Two girls on the porch with baseball bats, so if he miraculously gets out of the cuffs, he’s in for a beatdown. Jeffrey has that huge monster horse, and Henry still has a shotgun. I think we’re safe. What kind of pie?”

“Apple, and a peanut butter pie.”

“Good god,’ said Ivy. “Now I can get the year off my life that the kid gave me (sending me a 911), back.”

“Smart kid,” said David. “Cut me a piece, too.”

“Will do,” she said.

Tito arrived then with the van, kids spilling out. He took in the man in cuffs, and Jeffrey walking the stallion back to the barn. Nantan quietly talked to Henry with a gun, and Herja, Rota, and Wraith talked to Ajai.

Nantan waited until Bodaway was off in the parking lot until he said, quietly, “I have to tell the boys they are okay, without showing where they are.”

“Go,” said Henry, breaking the gun and turning the horse back to the paddock.

Nantan walked through the house, to the back, and walked out the back door. He walked over to the hydroponics house, then went in and climbed the stairs.

He found two girls with baseball bats guarding the door. “He’s gone,” he said. “Good job.”

They nodded at him. Willow said, “We’re Valkyries. What do you expect?”

“Go help your sister,” he said, nodding. They nodded back, and went back to the main house to help Ajai.

Nantan knocked on the door. “He’s gone, or he will be once the cop car shows up,” he said. “Stay in here until he is gone, about half an hour. He committed a lot of crimes today, so he’s going down. I know you’ve heard that before, but judges here know the Nighthawks and Valkyries, and Iron Knights.”

“’Kay,” said Nico.

“Will you stay with us?” asked Tam.

“Absolutely,” said Nantan. “Come on, let’s do some laundry.”

“Laundry?” said the puzzled Nico.

“The task that never ends. He started singing “The Never-ending Song” and they took their hamper down the stairs. They knew how to separate whites from darks, and Tam separated while Nico loaded. Nico put in soap and fabric softener and turned on the washer while Tam checked the dryer.

“Nada,” said Tam. “Nyet, aniyo, nothing.”

“Okay, do you want this twenty minutes to be picking strawberries or the math module?”

“Strawberries first,” said Tam.”

“Let’s go,” said Nico.

More officers showed up. Jeffrey gave his statement, and Henry sent him with the broken shotgun, minus the shells, back to the house after the officers determined that it had not been fired. Henry gave his statement, then rode the horse around the property to give it some exercise.

Inola gave her statement, and rode her horse with Henry, enjoying the day, before swollen breasts reminded her to go back and feed the baby. Yoki gave her statement, turned over her unused bat, and went to go pick fruit as well. Ivy didn’t give a statement, and went to work after stealing a piece of both the apple and the peanut butter pies, and she drank a “forbidden Coke.”

Nantan finished his statement, then went in to circulate between the picking, and lessons on tablets the teens took draped over beanbags in the living room, or at the kitchen table if they wanted to take notes or do exercises. The Pomodoro buzzer sounded and the students rushed to do short chores —changing over the laundry, vacuuming, dusting a room, or setting the kitchen table for the next meal —before resuming studying. The pickers traded with the studying students, and the studying students went to slice the fruits and veggies and put them in the containers.

Henry came back from his ride, and circulated among all the students to check their progress and ask if they had any questions before he headed off with Jake to the homeschool at the Nighthawks club. Vu came over for extended reading time, and helped the students choose books from the required extended reading list.

The teens argued over what they would do with the part of their salary they were allowed to spend —most of it went into a savings account, with the video game contingent louder than the car or motorcycle contingent. Some were savers, and some spenders, and Nantan and Henry couldn’t budge the spenders too much. They showed them how to get video games for free online, or to pay ten dollars a month for the service; but some wanted the expensive gaming machine and games anyway.

Nico and Tam were given as normal a day as possible after their father’s raging visit. The social worker, Clarissa Rodriguez from the res, came by during a Pomodoro break with the counselor, Ava. They all took horses out for a ride along the trails, giving the boys time to breathe while they related the stories. Clarissa was impressed as hell with the other students blocking their door with baseball bats.

Ava decided to talk to Ajai, but then discarded the idea. The girl had two mothers, to protect her —but she seemed hell-bent on protecting herself. Ava laughed to herself, as she watched the boys settle into the ride, steady on the horses despite their fright. Nantan was a good horseman, and he’d taught them well. Ajai’s speech, as had been described it to her, showed an insight far past her years. Valkyrie, she thought.

Wraith had a vested interest in finding out just what was going on with Bodaway Teton. She checked with the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department about the man. She heard nothing for a few hours, settling in to bang out the paperwork about the incident. Thrasher had made the arrest and Wraith was determined not to interfere …yet.

Thrasher told him that the man had received medical attention —no permanent damage, just bruising, and had blood tests. He was questioned, but simply ranted in Sioux, English, and Spanish. The LVMPD dutifully recorded all his statements, and asked various officers to help translate. He was charged with trespassing, violating two restraining orders, and assaulting a minor. The fact that the minor didn’t have a scratch on her was immaterial. He had both threatened the life of a minor and attacked her.

“Keep me posted on the arraignment?” asked Wraith.

“Will do,” said Thrasher. “I get any points with Herja?”

“You literally dropped everything to help her go save her child,” said Wraith. “I call points, but not about her going easy on you in the practice room. She may actually go harder on you because she sees potential in you.”

“Potential in me?” said Thrasher.

“Yeah, as in you don’t suck, and you can get a lot better than what you are now.” Wraith thought of her own training sessions with Herja, and winced.

“I’ll get better,” said Thrasher.

“See that you do,” said Wraith. “Or she may kill you in training.” Thrasher laughed ruefully, and hung up.

The arraignment was held, and Bodaway was held without bail as there were pending murder charges in Arizona. His wife had died. The Nighthawks took a ride to pick up her ashes and take them to Lake Havasu for the ceremony. The boys seemed shell-shocked. They had few good memories of their mother; she was poor, uneducated, and believed she was “sinful” and therefore deserved the beatings her husband gave her. It never occurred to her to protect her sons from his rage, until that last fatal night. Ivy and Wraith talked of her courage in standing up to Bodaway and protecting her sons. The boys then, for the first time, cried, not at the ceremony, but that night in the tent.

They went back to get anything the boys wanted from the house, but it looked as if every single piece of furniture had been smashed, the boys’ things scattered, torn, and broken, and blood still on the floor. Henry kept them outside as Ivy and Wraith went in, and came out fuming.

The house was sold for next to nothing, as it was sagging, with peeling paint and holes in the roof. The house was razed by the new owner, who wanted a log cabin she could build herself. The money was put aside for the boys’ education. Nantan finished his parenting classes, and as he’d already been investigated because of the school, he got custody of Nico and Tam while the father’s rights were severed.

Herja and Rota bragged about their daughter to the Valkyries. It was decided that Ajai was ready to begin more advanced training; they had been holding off until her eighteenth birthday. Ajai was pulled out of Henry’s farm for a few hours or days at a time. She brought her school laptop with her. She was trained in fighting skills, aikido to begin with, then sword, knife, staff, and spear training. Her archery was so accurate so early, that Henry set up hay bales with targets on them behind the hydroponics farm to shoot. While walking, running, and on horseback. They also trained her how to use a rifle and a handgun.

David and Henry took the students out with Native guides hiking and rock-climbing, so that part was covered. As her body got hard and strong, the other students clamored for the training. The girls went with the Valkyries, and some of the boys learned aikido. Others preferred their video game time.

The winter winds came, frigid off the mountains. Everyone wore leather jackets and gloves. Rides grew less frequent, as the wind gusts made long rides dangerous, especially through the mountain passes. They rode to California before the winds got too bad, and spent a lovely few days wandering from Santa Monica to Venice Beach in Los Angeles, before heading down the Pacific Coast Highway to Long Beach. The Valkyries came, so the female teens rode behind them, and the males rode with the Nighthawks.

The teens took surfing lessons, and they ate fantastic seafood and shopped. They sent boxes of art posters home; the teens finally found something they could spend their money on that wouldn’t break the bank. They built huge sandcastles and drank sodas on rented chairs. Then, they took the Pacific Coast Highway to San Diego. They hit up Balboa Park, Old Town, and Point Loma. They found a campground and went out to pick up huge bags full of Mexican food to eat on park benches, overlooking the ocean. They drank sodas and played soccer and threw Frisbees. They got into a game of tag football, then found a field and had their own kickball game with a soccer ball. Tam and Nico began to laugh again, even fight over who got to ride with whom.

They rode back up the Pacific Coast Highway to Redondo Beach, where they learned to surf again and eat more seafood. They hit Griffith Park Observatory late in the day, so they wandered the park and caught a planetarium show, then went out to watch the stars through the telescope. They rode out to the high desert, and ate a late meal at a burger joint. They got home late, went to bed, and slept in the next morning. Inola had animal-feeding duty, and she was up early already, after she fed her own child.

The day after the trip, they did laundry and picked veggies, but classes were suspended. They rode horses and shot arrows and walked trails. Nantan brought the veggies into the cutting room, and he, Henry, and Vi prepared the delivery orders. Nantan and Henry filled up the truck, and Nantan and Henry did the deliveries.

They made it back in time for a lunch of grilled chicken, cheese, and mushroom sandwiches, with home fries, and various juices and sodas. The teens became completely inert, barely making it over to the house to get their tablets; they laid around on the beanbags. Nantan played Uno with some of them.

They were eating a snack of veggie and corn chips and salsas when the police car drove up. They walked straight to the student dorms, hands on their guns. Jeffrey saw them, and sent a 911 to Henry and Wraith. This wasn’t normal, and he knew it. He got on the horse, and jumped her clean over the fence to the officers. He rode up as they were pounding on the door.

Ajai opened the door. “May I help you?” she asked. They shouldered past her. Infuriated, she pulled out a phone and sent a 911 text to Wraith and Herja.

Nantan stood. “Did anyone give you permission to enter?” he asked. “What seems to be the trouble, officers?” he said.

He didn’t know either of them. One was dark-haired and short, with obvious lifts in his shoes, with the name tag, “Fuller.” The other was tall and blonde, with a pock-marked face, with the nameplate that said, “Dalca.”

Fuller pulled out a gun and pointed it at Nantan. “Freeze! You are under arrest,” he said.

“On what charge?” asked Nantan.

“The murder of Bodaway Teton,” said Dalca.

“Loss is the gift that keeps on giving, through grief.”

About the Author

Bella Knight writes what she loves--romance, Bad Boy Bikers to Hot Rockstars to sexy Sports Romances love. She feels the love from her Las Vegas home from her rescue animals and her various love interests. She is constantly reading and writing, and she also leaves the animals with friends from time to time and hops on planes. She enjoys life to the fullest.

I adore my readers and love connecting with them socially.

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Afterword

A huge "Hi" to all my fantastic readers! Thank you so much for reading my latest title. I hope you loved it so very much!

Can I ask a huge favor? As an author, I know readers love to see reviews from other readers on Amazon. So, if you loved this title, would you mind leaving me a great review? I would be truly grateful if you could do that so everyone can see your input, too. Click link here to leave a review - Eye for an eye

Also, if you have any wonderful or genius ideas, or some brutal but honest feedback on how i can improve just drop me a line via email -newsletter@bella-knight.com- I'd love to hear your thoughts! all your feedback helps me write better for my lovely readers :)

Oh, if you haven't received my free giveaway book, you can get it here http://bella-knight.com/ Sending all my love and gratitude.  Always yours, Bella Knight!!

P.S. Thank you ever so much, I'm sending all my love and best wishes, always.