Rhychard massaged his bicep as he waited in line at Common Grounds for his first cup of coffee of the morning, black, extra caffeinated, and hot enough to scorch the top of his mouth on the first sip. He hadn't realized he had been out of his Eight O'Clock Bean until he went to make some that morning and only then remembered he had used the last of it the morning prior. He hadn't been all that worried about it because he expected to have money that afternoon for essential things, like food. Of course, that was before Trace acted like Mr. Benevolent without asking him first. It didn't really matter, however, since Rhychard was out of anything resembling breakfast food, as well, and would need to go out, anyway. Luckily, the coffeehouse around the corner from his apartment served bagels, as well.His arm, though healed, was still tender from Vargas's razor-sharp talons. Tryna insisted it was all in Rhychard's head as Kree's powers had never failed, while Rhychard insisted it was all in h

Rhychard ran his hand through his long, obsidian hair. He winced a little from the stiff pain in his arms, not from the previous day's attack, but rather from a full day of hauling filing cabinets across town. With Trace giving Mrs. Ivy back her money, Rhychard had to scramble to pick up work to silence his growling belly. He had called in a favor with Captain Relco, who hired him to help move old case files into storage. It wasn't a big job, but it allowed him to eat for a couple of more days. The night was chilly, with the scent of autumn in the breeze as it tugged at the colorful array of leaves just starting to turn toward fall. He stood outside the Harbor Townhomes and watched as Renny Saunders slid out of her Altima, the night air catching her long blond tresses in its invisible fingers, stroking it the way he used to do. He couldn't help but stare, remembering how that petite form had felt in his arms just a short while ago. She wore a soft teal business dress and carried her G

He knew he should try to discover why Vargas could step onto the Harvest Fellowship property, but Rhychard couldn't get the vision of the gargoyles swarming around Renny's apartment out of his head. Why were they there? What did they want with her? Gargoyles were the hunting dogs of the Nether. Demons and dark elves used them to sniff out their victims or as frontline soldiers, easily disposable. They were the grunts of the underworld, and he needed to discover why someone put them on Renny's trail. Tryna would be pissed, but he didn't care. He promised to protect Renny and, even though she didn't want his help, he wouldn't stand idly by and watch the Void destroy her life. At least, not if he could help it. And he could help it.Rhychard revved his Suzuki GSXR1000 as he tried to balance a coffee and a mocha frappe on his tank. Traffic was light, so he didn't have to worry about too much zigzagging through the Harbor City streets as he made his way to Saunders Realty. If Renny kept to

There were few places Rhychard enjoyed. He and Renny were never ones to go out clubbing, preferring quiet dinners and cuddling up on the couch to an old Cary Grant movie or attending a jazz concert in the park. However, Common Grounds was one of his sanctuaries. The other was a quiet cigar lounge called Embers that overlooked the river. It was a small place with a leather and mahogany bar, plush chairs and couches and a walk-in humidor. There were two televisions, one showing sports and the other news, and the channels rarely changed. A balcony attached to the back of the building held small tables with metal chairs for those who wanted a view of the river while enjoying the cool evening breeze.At least, that described a typical night at Embers. However, this Friday night the Florida weather dropped a deluge of rain upon the inhabitants of the East Coast. Rhychard darted in, using his jacket to try to cover his head, but barely succeeding. He bought a Rocky Patel and a Jameson before

Saturday morning arrived way too early as far as Rhychard was concerned. He rolled over onto his side and tried to focus on the digital clock sitting on the television tray he used as a nightstand. 12:07. All right, he thought as he flopped back onto his back, noon came way too early.He opened and shut his eyes a few times, chasing away sleep as he coaxed his body into a sitting position. From the foot of his bed, he heard the familiar mixture of air popping and jingling bells. "Rhychard, come quick!" Tryna vanished as soon as she finished speaking.Rhychard stared at the vacant spot, wondering if she would return and tell him where "here" was.:Warrior, to the park with haste!: Kree's voice sounded strained. :Gargoyles attack!:Rhychard hurled himself out of the twin bed and shoved himself into clothes. He snatched his harness of short swords along with the Guardian Sword with one hand, sliding it over his arms and strapping them onto his back. At the same time, he grabbed his brace