Trace was an odd creature. At thirty-two, he still lived with his widowed mother rent free. Lacking full time employment, he helped Rhychard out when he needed some spending cash. His only ambition was the next level of whatever video game currently obsessed him. He was a bum for the most part and dressed like one, as well. Still, outside of Buttercup, he was the only human Rhychard could talk to about his live fantasy adventure.The shaggy-haired misfit of society waited for Rhychard at the curb and quickly slid into the passenger seat of the cab. Well, quickly for Trace, which was like first gear to the rest of the world. He never saw a need to hurry, since he wasn't really going anywhere in life and had all the time in the world to get there."Your mom's not going to be happy," Trace said as he brushed his walnut hair out of his eyes."When is my mother ever happy?""When she's making you do something you don't want to do."Rhychard just nodded. It seemed to be the truth sometimes.

September. Buttercup wished that it would cool just a little, but in Florida at eight-thirty in the sweaty a.m., it was still humid and sticky, the coolness of night never lasting long. She was glad she wore her dark hair back in a ponytail as she could imagine what a drenched mess her neck would be while she sat on the bench at the Harbor City Transit Stop 52. A giant oak covered the stop with its branches offering a minuscule amount of shade, but heat was heat regardless. She kept trying to adjust the business skirt she wore, not used to anything so…covering.She took a deep breath. What on earth was she thinking? She had no business trying to be something other than what she already was, a street hooker who earned her keep by spreading her legs for any john who came along with twenty bucks he could sneak past his wife. Who did she think she was trying to get a real job somewhere and get off the streets?Rhychard believed in her, as did Kree and Tryna. The Warrior supported her and e

She kept glancing at her watch as one by one they called the people sitting with her to go back for their one-on-one. She turned her paperwork in and had nothing to do except wait. She hated waiting. It left her alone with her thoughts, and lately, they were far from good. Kree was her silent cheerleader. Only the elven hound knew how scared she was at following through on her quest to completely remake herself. Rhychard had too much to deal with, and he had already done so much for her. This was now up to her. She had to do it for herself."Miss Valentine?" The tiny woman, barely Buttercup's age by the look of her, stood there with a clipboard, looking down on Buttercup. She was accustomed to being looked down upon. Of course, she hadn't gone by her real name in years and almost didn't recognize it when the woman spoke it out loud. Laci Valentine seemed the perfect name for the sex industry whether a prostitute, a porn star, or a stripper. She started going by Buttercup because she di

Rhychard took the steps one at a time, wanting to delay the encounter as long as possible. It wasn't long enough. The screen door was the only barrier between the porch and chaos, and as he peeked in, he could see chaos was too soft of a word. "Karl!" Rhychard jerked the door open as the knot in his stomach tightened. The place was trashed. Not just from a lazy homeowner, but ransacked. Broken glass littered the floor, cushions were ripped open, and the stuffing thrown about, tables were broken. Someone had been searching for something. "Karl!""Holy…" Trace stood in the door. "Is he here?"A quick search of the house revealed the same catastrophe in each room, but no Karl Bartlett. "Damn!""Rhychard! In the kitchen."He would have run to Trace, but the house was too small, and there was too much debris on the floor. When Rhychard stood in the kitchen doorway, Trace pointed to a puddle of blood on the cheap linoleum. "There's more." Lots more. Bloody handprints were all over the back d

Okay, so this day has totally sucked and it's not even four o'clock yet. Rhychard and Trace drove around Harbor City for the next couple of hours, trying hard to determine where Karl went. However, the more they searched, the more Rhychard realized he didn't have a clue as to what his brother did or where he hung out. Rhychard called his mother, telling her that he tried stopping by his brother's place, but Karl wasn't home. He avoided the topic of the place being trashed and the dead body out back. "If he shows up there, have him call me. Better yet, make him call me." Karl obviously forgot to follow through on things he was to supposed do.Rhychard dropped Trace back off at his house, then returned to his condo and the chaos awaiting him. He wasn't looking forward to the encounter. With any luck, Tryna had arrived and shuffled the unannounced elf back to the Land Under. Rhychard still had no clue as to why Famallumi was above ground, but he was sure it would bring trouble. Elves alwa