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To celebrate my first success in my new career, the first thing I wanted to do was take my parents to dinner. It was the middle of the afternoon and my little brother, Sledge, was still in school, so I'd have to party with him another time. Take him to dinner or a movie or a concert, something like that. And after nailing a few more runners, I could spare enough money to pitch in for the car our moms and dad were planning to buy him for his sixteenth birthday.

Luckily, they were able to get the afternoon off from work and meet me at my apartment. Each of them arrived in their own vehicle; working for a government special-investigations agency meant that they often had to pound the pavement on their own, so they rarely carpooled.

My dad, Jack, rumbled up in his hearse with its lift kit, eight exhaust pipes on each side, and monster sixteen-cylinder engine that could be heard blocks away. Corona--Mom-C, I called her--arrived in her red Mustang, one of a handful of vehicles built to fit early-generation chimeras, who were typically seven feet or taller. And Taura--Mom-T--drove up in her rough-terrain vehicle, a weird but somehow sporty thing that looked like a cross between a dune buggy and a Humvee.

As you might guess, their work for the Agency doesn't include undercover stuff. They've never been good at blending in.

And yes, I have three parents. It's a long story. Especially considering how long Dad tried to avoid getting into that sort of relationship. Luckily for me and Sledge, he caved in eventually, or we wouldn't even exist.

They parked in the lot beside my apartment building and joined me at the front stairs. We greeted each other and they took turns hugging me and congratulating me.

"Sorry we're not dressed for the occasion," Mom-C said, waving a hand at her work clothes, simple cargo shorts, an armor-lined vest hiding her weapons, and boots designed to fit her digitigrade feet and leave her claws bare in case she needed to use them in a fight.

Likewise, Dad was wearing his usual T-shirt, black cargo pants and duster, and Mom-T was wearing a similar outfit, with boots custom-made to fit her hooves. Her shirt was loaded with pockets; as she likes to say, you can never have too many pockets.

"Aw, don't worry," I said. "I figured you'd come straight from the office." I chuckled. "Besides, I can't exactly picture you guys in a suit and dresses. Just not your style."

"Definitely not _my _style," Dad said, then grinned at my moms. "My babes, however, are fucking _hot _in dresses." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Of course, the less they wear, the better I like it."

Mom-T grinned, looked at the ground and scratched behind her ear, something she often did in lieu of blushing. Mom-C giggled, threw her arms around Dad and enveloped him in her wings.

"I feel the same way about you." She rubbed her dragon-like muzzle against his cheek.

"Hey, not in front of the kid," I said, but I couldn't help laughing. I turned to my van, another vehicle built for chimeras. Its design was based on the police SWAT tank, only not as squat and with bigger windows. It was big enough for me to fit in comfortably, and had a small computer station behind the driver's seat and plenty of room in the back for hauling cargo or furniture or scumbags like Theron. Or having sex with a couple hotties.

Not that I've actually done that.

Often.

Moving right along...

"Well, shall we go?" I grinned. "I'm buyin'."

#

"So," Mom-C said moments after we sat at a table in the corner, "we wanna hear all about your first day on the job."

Mom-T nodded emphatically and Dad grinned and said, "Yeah, every detail."

"Well, it was a quick and easy one." I took a sip of the coffee one of the waiters had brought over. "Child molester. Tracked him down at a club owned by one of his buddies, delivered him to the cops and collected the bounty."

"Ah," Mom-T said, nodding. "A pervert. We've had to deal with our share of those."

"Yeah," Dad added. "I was running into whackos and perverts even before we started working for Machiko."

I laughed. "Back when you were delivering pizzas, right? I still can't believe some of the video clips you recorded. This guy reminds me of...well, most of 'em, now that I think about it. Except he was far stupider."

"Hard to imagine that."

"Seriously, he was like the _king_of fucking idiots. Instead of leaving town or hiding, he was renting hookers and getting his hump on. Just drawing all kinds of attention to himself. Then he tried to run when I found him, _and_he wouldn't stop mouthing off. Kept it up until the moment I handed him over to the cops. Refused to shut up no matter how many times I warned him. By the time I got him to the police station, I couldn't even look at him without wondering how far his blood would spurt."

Dad shook his head. "I've met some real idiots in my life, but this guy's special."

"Yeah. I can't help wondering how he escaped from prison in the first place. He's just not smart enough to do it on his own."

"Someone else might've broken out and taken him with 'em for some reason," Mom-T said. "Or maybe he's got connections on the outside who pulled some strings for him. It'd be worth looking into; might lead you to a few more paychecks."

"Good idea. I'll look into it in the morning."

"So." Mom-C nudged my shoulder and giggled. "Details?"

I chuckled and started at the beginning, giving them a blow-by-blow of the gig, leaving them laughing and shaking their heads at the same time when I finished.

"That guy's a Darwin Award waiting to happen," Dad said. "Sooner or later, he's gonna do something spectacularly stupid and that'll be the end of him."

"Like that guy we were chasing last week?" Mom-C snickered and raked her talons through her bright blue hair.

"Yeah." Dad glanced at me. "Did we ever tell you about that?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, it started off with some gum-chewer being pulled over, just a routine traffic thing--but then he ran. Cops chased him halfway across the city, he ran me and Taura off the road and we went after him." Dad shrugged and brushed a hand through his long black hair. "Well, long story short, he ended up an inch deep and a mile wide."

I waved my hands. "Whoa, hold on, you can't tease me like that. I've _got _to hear about this!"

Dad grinned and took a long sip of his coffee, keeping me in suspense for a few more seconds. "Well, traffic violations were never our thing, so we should've stayed out of the way and let the cops handle it, but we were pissed."

"So Jack punched it and away we went," Mom-T said with a grin. "He'd just gotten another bunch of bullet holes fixed, his car was all polished and shiny--and now it's got a huge dent where the moron's truck slammed into us. And you know how Jack gets when something like that happens."

"Me?" Dad reached out and flicked a finger against her left horn. "As I recall, _you _were spewing profanity and aiming your gun right through the windshield at his truck. I thought you were gonna start blasting away at any second."

She looked down at her tea and cleared her throat. "Um, yes. I must be going into heat again."

"Oh, hohoho!" Mom-C grinned and wiggled her brow ridges. "I certainly hope so."

"Well, now we know where to go for dessert," Dad said.

"Hey, not in front of the kid, remember?" I shook my head, but couldn't help chuckling. "Jesus. You three act like you're _all _in heat. Constantly."

"Can't help it." Dad shrugged. "Okay, okay, we'll keep ourselves under control."

"For now." Mom-C giggled again.

I snorted. "Anyway, what about the guy who dented your car? Don't leave me hanging."

"Okay. So, they're chasing this dipshit, Jack contacts me with our comlink implants, and I go flying after 'em. I get there just in time to see the truck take a side-street and Jack overshoot the turn-off. He and Taura ended up on a street that ran under an overpass that the idiot was heading toward."

Dad picked up the story. "I was getting more pissed off by the second. The dumb prick was gonna head across the overpass and might be blocks away before I could get onto the right street. But that's not quite how it worked out."

"I couldn't believe my eyes." Mom-C flicked her wings. "I was gliding in, planning to land on the truck and enter through the passenger-side door. The nitwit was heading for the overpass--but he missed it. Just drove his truck right over the embankment _beside _the overpass. The truck did a sort of forward flip and landed upside-down on the street below."

"Right in front of us," Mom-T added. "He hit maybe fifty feet ahead of us."

"Instant pizza. His truck landed like Wile E. Coyote falling off a cliff." Dad shook his head and whistled softly. "They had to clean him up with a sponge."

"Ouch." I winced. "Helluva way to go." Then I shrugged. "He brought it on himself, though."

"Right. I've been hassled by cops, myself, more times than I can count. But what this guy did was fuckin' retarded. As much as it might drive you nuts, you gotta just sit there and take it. Don't fight back until you're sure your opponent isn't holding all the cards."

I nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Mom-C sipped her cola, then smiled. "So, what's next?"

"Well, tomorrow I'll sign up for another gig and go from there. For tonight, though, I have a few people in mind to...um, help me celebrate." I winked at her. "Any other details would be TMI, though."

"Oh, and here you were, calling _us _nymphos." She winked back.

"Well, obviously, it runs in the family."

"Ha-ha. So, do you have anyone specific in mind to help you...celebrate?"

"I'm keeping an open mind for now." I tapped my bracelet phone. "I do have a good number of people in my contact list, though. I figure I'll call some of 'em and see if they're available." I smiled. "Although...there are two in particular that I'm gonna call first."

"Dudes or chicks?" She giggled.

"One of each. I met 'em in high school and developed an almost instant crush on 'em."

"Is the chick hot?" Dad grinned and both moms swatted him with their tails.

"So," Mom-C said when they finished laughing, "are they hot?"

I sighed with feigned annoyance. "Yes, both of 'em are totally cute. They're nerdy types, which is exactly how I like 'em. One time they and some of their friends were having an intense discussion of the use of science in old TV shows like Battlestar Galactica, and I just had to stop and watch. Seth and Marissa were going on about how awful the original show was and how awesome the remake was--well, up until the last season--and one of their points was the use of plausible science in each show. I was smitten instantly."

Mom-T chuckled. "That reminds me of the first time you watched the _Stargate SG-1 _Blu-Ray set that Jack's dad gave you. You had an immediate crush on both Dr. Jackson and Col. Carter."

"Oh, yeah. Daniel was hotter than hell. And every time Sam started spewing scientific stuff..." I grinned. "Guys have porn, I have Sam Carter and her technobabble. She was a brainiac, and she could also beat the shit out of the bad guys and blow 'em away like lint with her P90. Hot."

"Hey," Dad said, "do you think she was hotter on SG-1 _or _Atlantis?"

"Oh, Atlantis, definitely. And the alternate-reality episodes of _SG-1 _in which she had long hair. I just like long hair. Though the short 'do she had in Season Seven was cute." I let out a quick breath and fanned myself with my hand. "I'm gonna need a cold shower when I get home."

"Nah," Mom-C said, giggling again, "save all that pent-up energy for your hot date tonight."

"And if no one's free tonight?"

"Otto never let that stop him."

Dad snorted. "No kidding. I'm still amazed that he never developed any calluses on his palms."

I laughed and shook my head. "My libido can't hold a candle to his. It's like he never outgrew puberty." Otto's kind of an odd case, anyway; he's probably pushing forty by now, but he still looks like he's around fifteen...and then there's the times I've seen him levitating and phasing through walls and all sorts of weird shit. And then there's Shakira...

But that's a whole other story.

My stomach rumbled suddenly. I picked up one of the e-paper sheets the waiter had placed on the table after we sat, and scrolled through the restaurant's menu. "Well, I'm starving."

"I can tell." Dad laughed. "Sounded like a tank passing by."

"Ha. No, when Sledge farts, _that _sounds like a tank engine."

Dad burst into laughter and almost choked on his coffee.

Mom-C waved a talon at me. "You shouldn't make fun of your brother when he's not around to hear it."

"Right, of course. I'll wait till we're face to face."

"Good girl."

I grinned and selected a few items from the menu. "Anyway, shall we order?"

#

Things were going so well. I guess it was only a matter of time before something came along and fucked it all up.

I did some shopping after dinner, and when I got home, I still wasn't ready to call it a night. Hell, I could've partied for a week, I was so happy. I'd done a few odd jobs in high school and during the two years since I graduated, usually ones that put my huge muscles to use, but now I actually had a career. One that required as much brains as brawn, too. And it was off to a _grand _start.

I hummed softly as I ducked through the doorway and locked the door behind me, then carried my bags to the kitchen, hunching over to avoid bumping my head on the ceiling. One of these days I would have to find an apartment with a high enough ceiling. Or, preferably, buy a house of my own and make sure it had enough room for me. But I was just starting out, so that was a _long _way off.

I took a can of cola from the fridge and popped it open, headed into the front room and sat on the couch, draping my tail over the arm so the spikes on the end wouldn't gouge the cushions. I tapped an icon on my bracelet and brought the apartment's meager computer system out of standby mode.

"Address book," I said, and took a sip of my cola. The contact list appeared on the screen on the wall across from me and I skimmed the list until I found Seth Nelson and Marissa O'Malley. Both of them had caught my eye in school, but I never got around to asking either of them out. Whenever I thought about trying, I learned that they were already dating someone.

And, honestly, I'd always doubted that they'd be interested. Thanks to my size and physique, the whole dating thing was never easy for me. I'd gotten lucky a few times, but...eh. What the hell, I'd never get anywhere if I didn't at least give it a shot.

I hoped at least one of them would still be single, and available tonight.

I selected Seth's icon and his contact info appeared in a new window. I brought up Marissa's info as well, and reached out to dial Seth's number.

The screen blanked out. At first I thought the power had gone off, but the lamps on the end tables on either side of the couch were still on and the fridge was still humming away behind me. I frowned at the screen, starting to get pissed at my luck. This had been one of the best days of my life, I was finally gearing up to invite two of my high school crushes to dinner and hoping that one thing would lead to another...and now the computer appeared to have crashed.

A few seconds later, the blank screen was replaced by the image of a middle-aged man. I drew back and my jaw dropped.

"What the hell?" I muttered.

"Do you know who I am?" the guy said.

I studied his face. Short brown hair with gray streaks, matching stubble on his lean, tan face. Hazel eyes that had an odd, two-quarts-low gleam in them. They also looked puffy, as if he'd been crying recently. I shrugged.

"Beats the hell outta me."

"I'm Blake Theron."

My good mood evaporated. "Ah, you're Craig the Bitch's daddy, eh?" I should've made the connection the first time I heard Craigy's name. His dad was a fairly well-known head of a criminal operation in Neon City who should've been locked up by now, but had a high-powered team of lawyers and fixers to keep his ass out of prison. He was into drugs, guns, all sorts of heavy shit, and he had connections to some powerful people in the city.

I guess that explained how a dipshit like Craig Theron could break out of prison. His daddy must've arranged it.

He leaned forward and glared at me. "That's right."

I stood and lashed my tail around. "What the hell do _you _want?"

"You know damned well what I want."

"Oh, don't even start that shit with me." I crossed my arms over my chest, flexed my pipes, and glared back at him. "Yeah, you're pissed because your crotch maggot is back where he belongs. Boo hoo. He should've thought about the consequences before he raped those kids." I smirked. "Won't be long before he finds out how they felt."

"My son is dead, you fucking bitch! He was killed in prison this afternoon--after _you _brought him there!"

I merely raised a brow ridge and shrugged. "Good. He got what he deserved. Fuck him."

Theron slammed his fist down on his desk, leaned forward and jabbed a finger at me. "You've fucked with the wrong man, and now there's a price to pay."

"Whatever. Get off my screen, Cliché-Boy." I reached for the off button, but then he said something that stopped me in my tracks.

"Have you heard that your little brother hasn't come home yet?"

"What?" Sledge had gone to a friend's house after school; I glanced at my watch and realized that he should've been home by now. I hadn't thought to check my messages. Our parents had probably called or texted me before I got home.

My heart pounded.

"You see, I've been keeping an eye on you. And your parents. And your little brother. When he left school and headed for his friend's place, he was quite vulnerable."

A chill burst through me and my breath caught in my throat. _Oh, no, you didn't...! _My hands shook.

Theron leaned back in his chair and aimed a smug look at me. "Granted, being a chimera, he's stronger and faster than most of the people I currently have working for me. But all that's really needed is a sufficient dose of tranquilizers delivered from a distance. Taking him down wasn't much of a challenge."

Theron's face vanished and was replaced by a young minotaur chained to a chair in a dark room. The lights came up a bit, allowing me a better look at him.

I gasped. That was Sledge, alright. His head was lolling around, his eyes unfocused, his expression dazed. He slumped forward and his long, black hair fell across his face, covering all but the end of his muzzle.

I growled. "Theron, you son of a bitch!"

"You may be wondering what that thing on his chest is."

The camera pushed in a little more. A shadow--probably that of whoever was holding the camera--flitted aside, revealing what was obviously a bomb attached to a harness.

My heart almost punched through my ribs.

"Wh...what do you want?"

Theron's image returned. He smirked again and laced his fingers together. "You hunted my son down like an animal. Now, it's time for _you _to become the hunted."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I know some people who enjoy hunting. They don't hunt the usual prey, though. They prefer something that's a little more challenging."

That wasn't hard to figure out. He was talking about people who hunt anthros. Since we were created for combat--basically, we're living weapons--I guess we make for better "sport." My parents actually ran into this sort of thing before; they took down an anthro-hunting ring before I was born. They'd told me about it years ago, so I had a good idea of what to expect.

"I'll give you the address of the building where your brother is being held. You'll have thirty minutes to get there, or the bomb will go off. Show up alone, or the bomb will go off. If any cops, chasers or your parents are spotted anywhere near that place, there won't be enough of your brother left to fit into a coffee can."

I snarled. "Fine. Give me the address and I'll be there."

Theron vanished. An address appeared in his place, and I memorized it with a glance. And I swore that once I got Sledge out of there, I would take Theron out, no matter how many goons he sent after me.

#

Of course, the whole thing could be a trap. Lure me into a building where my brother may or may not be tied up with a bomb strapped to his chest, then either snipe me from a nearby rooftop or blow the building as soon as I enter it. If Theron had any brains at all, that's exactly what he would do.

But what else could I do? If Sledge really was in there, with only a few minutes to live, I _had _to get that bomb off him and get him as far away from that place as possible, as fast as possible.

So I loaded my utility belt and vest pockets with as much extra ammo and other gear as I could carry, headed for the roof, jumped off and glided to the address Theron had given me. It was an old, falling-apart house in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, a place with no street lamps and no porch lights on any of the other houses. All kinds of shit could happen there and no one would ever see it.

I flew erratically, just in case Theron had positioned snipers between my apartment and the house. When I got there, I landed in a back yard across the street and several houses away from the one where Sledge was tied up. Then I crept toward it, trying to stay concealed while moving as quickly as I could--but then I realized that it wouldn't do much good. My eyes, with their constant red glow, were a dead give-away. It's a natural bio-luminescence--as much as _anything _about draconids can be called natural--so there was nothing I could do about it. Though I wish I'd thought to put on a pair of sunglasses before leaving my apartment.

I increased my pace, jumping over a ten-foot fence and darting across the street, then sprinting to the house. I ran up the stairs and drove my foot into the door, next to the knob and lock, snapping the bolts like dry twigs, then I jumped aside in case Theron's goons had left any surprises for me.

I drew my gun and peeked into the front room. No lights inside, but I can see just fine in the dark. Filthy carpet, bare walls with mildew stains here and there. Looked like the place had been empty for a while. No sign of remote-controlled guns, trip-beams or other booby traps.

I ducked through the door and winced at the soggy _squish _that accompanied each step. I didn't even want to think about what might be in that carpet.

I checked each room and found them empty. That left the basement. I found the door leading downstairs, pushed it open and descended into an even darker room.

The stairs creaked and gave under my weight. I winced, but kept going.

"Whuh?" Sledge's voice slurred from somewhere behind me.

"It's me." I hurried around a thick post next to the stairs and found Sledge in the corner, still chained to the chair. Still tranked up, judging by his unfocused eyes and the way his head lolled around.

The bomb still strapped to his chest.

"Boiler?" he mumbled. "What's...going on?"

"I'll explain after I get you out of here." I looked around the room and found no one else. "Are you okay?"

"Feel...weird." He shook his head slowly. "Can't, uh...focus."

"You were tranked. That's how you ended up here."

"Ah. I remember...something stung my neck. Got dizzy. Fell. S'all I remember."

I leaned over him and took a closer look at the bomb. Sledge frowned at me, then he looked at his chest. His eyes opened wider and he gasped.

"Is that...what I think it is?"

"Yeah." I sighed.

"Oh...shit! Shit!" His breathing quickened and he jerked against the chains.

"Calm down." I kneeled beside him and continued inspecting the bomb. I slipped my claws carefully under the straps and lifted them ever so slightly, looking for wires attached to the buckles.

"Calm down. Yeah, right." He shook his head again, grimaced and stared at the bomb. "Aren't these things...supposed to have, like...a red digital countdown?"

"Only in movies."

"Great. No way to know...how long we have."

I moved behind him. "I don't see anything wired to this. I'm gonna try to take it off."

He groaned.

"I wish I could call the bomb squad. But if anyone else shows up, they'll set it off. And like you said, we don't know how much time we have until it blows."

"Christ. Why is this happening?"

"Revenge. Someone's using you to get to me." I grasped the buckle. "I'm sorry you got mixed up in this. Now get ready. I'm gonna unfasten this now."

"Okay." He drew in a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

"You'll be okay. He has other plans for me, so I don't think this is even armed."

"Well...just get it over with." He held his breath and waited.

I unfastened the first buckle...and nothing happened. I let out a long sigh and went on to the other buckle, then I slipped the harness off and placed the bomb gently on the floor.

"Are we dead yet?" Sledge muttered.

"Not yet. Can you walk?"

"Think so." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Can stagger, at least."

"Good." I snapped the chains with a quick yank. "Let's get the fuck outta here."

I helped him up the stairs and into the front room, out the front door and then I started running, dragging him along beside me. I expected a bullet to punch through my skull at any moment, but was amazed to cross the street and reach the cover provided by a house and garage in one piece.

"Well," Sledge mumbled, "that was easy."

"No." I looked around slowly, remembering what Theron had said about his hunting buddies. "This is just getting started."