“I thought the desert was supposed to be cold at night,” said Johnny as the bartender passed over a cold one. He had stripped down to his undershirt and would have removed that too if the sign by the door didn’t say ‘No shirt, no service.’ He swished at some flies with his tail. Why this skeevy bar on the Interstate was so picky about shirts, he’d never know. At least the women in the crowd were pushing the boundaries of the rules, as well. With both elbows on the bar, he surveyed the crowd of sweaty skinned mortals with a wolfish grin.

A text came in and he plucked it from the back pocket of his jeans. “Industrial road. 11:30pm. Usual rate. V.” He thumbed an acceptance and pocketed his device.

Shrugging at a pair of women he had been eyeing, he snugged on his battered ball cap and downed the beer. Just as he was about to wave goodbye to the bartender, he realized that tonight would be a nice payday. He ordered another for the road.

He had his Ford Ranger up to speed, the Country station cranked, and the half-empty beer jostling in the cup holder. The air rushing into the open windows was cool on his naked chest. No need for shirts! It was good to be alive.

Industrial road wasn’t well lit. The street lights were too widely spaced and were a weird orange colour that made them feel old. He parked his truck in the shadow of a building and took to his feet. His hooves clomped on the pavement. A siren wailed distantly in Mythic City.

He walked on until a low whistle attracted his attention. A shadow detached itself from a white van that was parked crookedly in a loading bay.

“Eric, my man!” Johnny high-fived the dark fae. He noticed the shadowy elf was carrying a 6-pack and beckoned for one. “Where’s Toady?”

“Give me a minute,” grumbled Theodore, who Johnny called Toady on account of all his warts. The ogre finished peeing against the wall and came around the corner to greet the newcomer. He finished doing up his fly and wiped his hands on his pants.

“Toady!” The ogre offered his massive fist and Johnny chest-bumped it. “How’s Griselda?”

“She gave me hell for getting drunk with you the other night.” He rubbed a goose egg on his scalp that still ached. “The kids need new shoes and I blew most of the cash we made that night. She says I should find better work. Do you think the Baron needs any new muscle?”

“I heard Nightshade is recruiting,” chimed in Eric. “But V’s been good to me and I can’t stand working with Redcaps. They’re so un-fucking-predictable. You could lose a finger!”

“Is the boss inside?” asked Johnny. He cracked open the beer can and took a swig.

“Yeah, she said to wait outside until she signaled.”

Johnny was on his second beer when his phone buzzed. He looked around at the other two but they just shrugged. Only the selenus had been summoned. He crushed his beer can and playfully bounced it off Theodore’s stony hide. He swaggered into the building.

He was met with a stinging blow to the head that knocked off his hat and left him seeing stars. “I thought I told you not to wear that ridiculous hat!” hissed Vicissitude. She stalked around him and he stayed where he was on the ground, keeping his eyes to the ground. All he could see was her studded motorcycle boots. “But am I paying extra for this lack of a shirt?” Her nails were as sharp as a cat’s claws and one scraped painfully across his shoulder blades. “I may have to break my engagement with the Baron and watch you work.”

Johnny knew better than to say anything and remained cowering where he was. Soon, Sissy had put on her motorcycle jacket and left. Even a baronial Knight wouldn’t keep Lord Carnifex waiting. Johnny looked up to watch her tight, leather-encased ass leave the opposite way he had come in. When the door had shut, he replaced his hat and rubbed his cheek where he had been slapped. It had sobered him up right fast and he thought about quickly ducking out to check if Eric had another to take the edge off.

However, when he looked around the deep loading bay he saw that he shared it with a man tied to a steel folding chair. He was slumped and whimpered softly. Clearly, Sissy had been playing some effective mind-games with her illusions. The poor guy looked pretty broken already but Johnny wasn’t paid to diagnose. When he got close, the guy perked up, sniffed the air and snapped at him with decidedly canine features.

Hot dog! He never had to feel bad about beating a werewolf! These guys could take the worst he could dish out and be right as rain by moon-rise. He wound up and gave the dude a punchy side-kick with his heavy, horse-shoed hoof. It caught the ‘wolf in the chest and lifted him and the chair into the air and they crashed into a noisy heap against the wall. Johnny had felt more than heard the sternum crack and the blood smears told him several of the ribs had punctured the skin near the spine. Before the man could try to wriggle free of the wreckage of the chair, Johnny had slipped on a pair of sliver-plated brass knuckles and was giving him blow after blow in the tender spots. He thought of the part-time job he’d had in high-school at the butcher shop.

When he was done, he clamped on the manacles that were anchored in the concrete floor, and left to join the Eric and Toady guarding the door.

They had saved him the last beer. What bros!

“Hey Johnny,” said Eric after they sat in silence for a while. “Remember those two sisters we met a couple of weeks ago?”

“Sure wingman, the cute one was sure sweet on you! They weren’t sisters, though, they just both dyed their hair the same colour.” Actually, the three of them had ditched Eric while he was relieving himself in the washroom. Johnny had fucked them both.

“Could you get her to call me? I didn’t get her number.”

“Right on! I’ll text her now. It was Sharon or Shirley or something.” He scrolled through his messages to the right date.

“Hey, heads up!” growled Toady. “Company.”

Johnny looked up and couldn’t believe his eyes. Two hot women were coming their way, maybe from the peeler bar up the road. One had stuffed herself into tight jeans and had her shirt unbuttoned low enough to reveal her lacy bra underneath. The other was a vision of Asian beauty in a tiny dress with legs like there was no tomorrow. When she spoke, it was like he was hearing her through his groin.

He remembers kissing her. Or perhaps it was a dream. That was all he could remember of the evening before waking up in a sun-dappled meadow near a clear pool.