“Be careful,” she told me as she stepped into the portal. Once through, it closed as quickly as it had opened. A breath later, it was as if she’d never been there.

I rubbed my eyes to clear the spots that had sprung up from witnessing the dimensions merging. Once I could see clearly again, I looked to the map.

I growled when I realized where the markers were. Not surprisingly, all three locations were deep inside Old Town. If something bad was gonna happen, you could pretty much guarantee Old Town was where it’d go down.

Distraction over, I felt my injuries crying out for attention. I pulled my bloody and torn sweat jacket off with a grunt and dropped it on the floor beside the now empty beer bottle. My shirt followed. I examined my arm and hand, both cuts deep and festering. An unhealthy blackness bubbled in the wounds like heated tar. I went to the bathroom and looked at my back in the mirror. The cut, while long, wasn’t very deep. I sighed, grateful for small favors.

I hated magically-forged weapons.

It’s bad enough my ex-wife sent a bunch of goons after me, but to arm them with the tools to allow them to actually kill me, was going too far. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to hunt her down and wring her gorgeous succubus neck. I promised myself though, if I managed to avert Armageddon before it got too far along, I’d make the time.

Pushing away my petty, but oh so satisfying thoughts of revenge, I went to the bedroom. I walked to the back corner of the room and moved my nightstand to the side. Lifting the carpet below it, I rolled it back to reveal the tiled under-floor. I tapped on the corner of one of the innocuous tiles and it popped up, then I set it to the side. From the hole beneath it, I plucked out a small, felt Crown Royal bag. With my prize in hand, I went to the bed and sat down.

From the bag, I pulled out a handful of small, glass vials rubber-banded together.