“Save the world… again?” Miriel stroked the white hair between her faithful St. Bernard’s ears. The hulking brute glanced up at her, rolling his eyes, mouth agape.
Oh, you think you’re too old for this, do you, Matteo? she mindspoke to him.
The cantankerous canine nodded his agreement and lay his chin over his
“It’s worse than we thought.” Ethel leaned over the ancient oak table and plucked a sweet, still warm tigernut ball from the tray. Her family’s favorite Egyptian chef had prepared it only a few hours ago… Well, technically four thousand years ago… in ancient Egypt. These were the perks of a crime family
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Phezz retrieved the last vial of poison from his belt. His mother had ceremoniously extracted the venomous substance from the tusks of his family’s herd of hairy and tortoise-like Jamjins for hunting. It seemed like a lifetime ago. During the peaceful times—before the Last Battle—before his brother activated the planet’s core defense
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“Yo, Enzo! Is it done yet?” The beleaguered customer yelled down through the grate. The man’s week-old musk permeated every inch of his grimy home—even saturating into the floorboards.
“It’s Enza,” Joe Enza whispered under his breath.
Everyone always confuses it. Joe screwed the cap back on the tritium diffuser as he squatted
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