“Fancy plungers?” Mack scoffed, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes.
“No, legs,” Ebenezer snorted back.
“Peg legs? Uncle, I thought you were some kind of genius engineer who made prosthetics,” Mack teased.
“I am a Tuath De Smith, boy. I have poured my will and my portion of Grace into these limbs. They’re like Nuada’s silver arm.”
KC’s eyes bulged. “Really?”
Ebenezer nodded.
“Explain it to me,” Athena asked.
“Nuada was the first king of the Tuatha De Danann,” KC began. “He lost his arm in battle, which by their laws meant he couldn’t be king, and for a time his half-Fomoroian nephew was king, but that guy was a dick, so the Druids and the Smiths got together and used magic to make Nuada a new arm out of silver that replaced his old arm, made him whole again, and allowed him to resume kingship.”
“These ‘peg legs’ will work the same as Nuada’s arm. Attach the cups to the stumps of the boy’s legs, and they will graft themselves onto his body to transform into perfect replicas of his own legs, albeit made of wood and silver. In fact, he won’t ever have to take them off because they will be his legs, growing with him as he grows, powered by his body just like real legs,” Ebenezer explained. Then, he blushed slightly. “I may have worked a few enchantments and enhancements into the legs, too, so you’ll have to bring the boy into our world, Nephew.” He patted the prosthetic legs before passing them to Mack. “This gift has the potential to make Billy a powerful being, so you will have to teach him and train him to be a good man, the way your parents and godparents have trained you, Hieronymus Llewellyn MacDuff.”
Mack couldn’t hold back his tears any longer as he embraced his Uncle Ebenezer.
DILLARD, GEORGIA
Friday, May 10, 2019
EBENEZER LEFT THE SAFE house almost immediately. He’d already packed the night before, a single suitcase. He left his messenger bag with Mack along with the passwords to access his laptop and the various apps and programs loaded into it. Ebenezer tucked his Springfield EMP into his waistband and put the spare magazines in a pocket. Before leaving, he told Mack to take whatever he or KC wanted from the stores in the house and to stock the Airstream with the food in the kitchen.
Ebenezer had already told the housekeeper that she would no longer be needed and paid the woman an extravagant severance. She had several other clients, he knew, and wouldn’t be at too much of a loss for income without his employment. He said nothing to the neighbors. As far as they knew, he was returning home to Delaware. In a few days, his obituary would show up in their news feeds. The credit card and ID in his wallet said he was Richard Jones, the identity he’d burned to go to his sister’s funeral. The Frateco was aware that Ebenezer Llewellyn and Richard Jones were the same person. He hoped that a twenty-odd year gap since he’d last been Richard Jones would make the Frateco think he’d made a simple mistake in using a burned identity instead of a new one. Not luring them away from the true danger to Avidan Mac Balor.
From the general environs of Chesapeake, Virginia, Ebenezer drove south to Wilmington, North Carolina. He stopped for lunch at an O’Charley’s where he used the Richard Jones credit card to pay for his meal. He also bought gas while he was in town with the card. Then, he drove west to Columbia, South Carolina, where he spent the night in a Marriott. That was when he discovered the “care package” Mack and KC had snuck into the car while he was making his good-byes to Athena, who was likely in on their plan.
An extra “shaving kit” bag had been shoved into Ebenezer’s suitcase. The bag contained Athena’s Springfield Hellcat, two spare 11-round magazines, two boxes containing a hundred rounds of 9mm ammo, and a lone fragmentation grenade. The magazine loaded into the Hellcat was the 13-round extended mag. More firepower than he felt like he would need, Ebenezer unloaded the steel and gold rounds from his EMP. His twenty-five rounds filled the extended mag and one of the spare mags with one round left over to go into the Hellcat’s chamber. He reloaded the EMP’s magazines with regular 9mm ammo. The magazines weren’t interchangeable between the two pistols, but now he had two pistols instead of one.
On the following day, Ebenezer decided to cross something off his personal bucket list. He drove northwest from Columbia to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. He’d always wanted to see Dollywood. That afternoon he took in as much of the park as he could before it closed for the evening. He made several purchases throughout the day with his Richard Jones credit card. That evening he was lucky enough to find a room available at a Days Inn. The following day, Ebenezer took in as many shows and attractions as he could manage, paying for everything with the Richard Jones card. When he checked out of his hotel Friday morning, he spotted a frato.
The glamour was good. Nobody else looking at the Japanese tourist would ever have suspected that he was actually a red-haired faun. Of course, nobody else around was a Fae-blooded Nephilim with the ability to see through glamours the same way a high elf could. Ebenezer ignored the faun, who probably belonged to a local fratoy and likely wasn’t even a Soldato. He allowed the Unseelie mobster to watch him get into the Blue Runner and take US 441 South.
Ebenezer’s goal was to reach Athens, Georgia, where he had another safe house with a stash of weapons and a new identity, but he also knew he would never make it there. His final confrontation was coming into focus. The Rabun Gap. Ebenezer nodded to himself. Instead of Athens, he would aim for Dillard, Georgia, specifically the Dillard House, a locally famous restaurant and inn. Hopefully, he could finish off this trip with a good meal before killing Alpha.
He arrived at the Dillard House a little after 11 am. Ebenezer had lingered long enough in Pigeon Forge and then in Cherokee, North Carolina, long enough to ensure that a frato was following him. The faun had passed the job off to a sprite who could more easily pass for human. Ebenezer had felt bad for the young Fae mobster assigned to follow him. The sprite wasn’t a soldier. Ebenezer guessed that the young woman was most likely a komercisto, a “merchant” in the Frateco. Merchants were the ones who ran the Unseelie Mafia’s businesses, legal and illegal alike. The sprite could have been anything from an accountant to a drug dealer. Discreetly following people was not a part of her skill set, but she looked enough like a mundane tourist herself to go unnoticed. Normally.
The sprite had followed him into the Dillard House’s parking lot when he arrived, and she’d parked her compact raspberry Chevy Spark several spaces down from where he’d stopped. Ebenezer had to give it to the Frateco on this one. Who in their right mind would expect a mobster to be driving a pinkish colored hatchback? The vehicle was memorable and forgettable at the same time, and it was the perfect kind of car for the twenty-something looking sprite.
Ebenezer sat in the Blue Runner for a moment contemplating his strategy. Both the Hellcat and the EMP were extremely compact, designed for comfortable concealed carry, not that it mattered since Georgia was an open carry state. Of course, no one openly carried two guns on their hip. This wasn’t the Wild West. During his stay in Pigeon Forge, Ebenezer had purchased a small backpack, an Outdoor Products Quest Daypack, the least expensive thing he could find at the Sevierville Walmart. The EMP, its magazines, his loose ammo, and the grenade were all tucked into the bottom of the pack beneath a cheap fleece blanket, a gallon bag of trail mix, and an assortment of brochures and maps. The Hellcat was tucked into the waistband of his jeans where it would generally go unnoticed concealed by the hem of his shirt.
After a moment of just sitting, Ebenezer got out of the car. He opened the back door and pretended to be rummaging for his backpack. Instead, he was depositing the Blue Runner’s key in an outside pocket of his suitcase. He would be walking from here on out. As he sauntered up to the restaurant entrance, Ebenezer stole a glance toward the sprite who was still in her car, on the phone. He took his own phone out, a burner with no connection to any of his identities, current or past, and composed a text message. He entered the number from memory
and sent the message.
Ronnie, it’s your old friend Ben Llewellyn. Haven’t used that name in a long time. Beta’s sister, Alpha, has found me. I’ve led her a merry chase, but she’s caught me. Or she will catch me very soon. I’ve set myself up as bait in a trap. The boy found me. I’ve given him what he needs to fulfil his destiny. In the next few hours, you or one of your agents needs to show up at the Dillard House. There’s a blue Toyota 4Runner with Montana plates parked in the lot outside the restaurant. I’d like to see it returned to its owner. Keys are in the outside pocket of the suitcase in the backseat floorboard. My destined time is near. Gonna eat a good lunch. Then, I’m gonna try my damnedest to kill the deadliest Cutter in the business. Thank you for being the friend I needed when Beta killed my sister. Give my regards to your lovely husband and children.
At the reception desk Ebenezer requested a table before excusing himself to use the restroom. He pulled his phone’s battery and SIM card. He flushed the SIM and dropped the disabled phone in the trash. Then, he was escorted to a table with a fantastic view of the Rabun Gap. The Dillard House offered what could be described as a buffet at your table. Waiters brought out serving dishes of everything on the day’s menu, placed them on your table, and retreated so that you could serve yourself without ever having to get up. Anything a guest ran out of would be replaced upon request.
Alpha arrived before the waiters even brought out the first dish to Ebenezer’s table. Between the fried chicken and the collard greens being laid on the table, four Frateco Cutters glided into the enormous dining area and took a table on the far side of the room. Alpha was unmistakable due to her green hair, which was not an affectation but the result of a physical geas inherited from her mother’s side of the family. As long as Alpha held to the strictures imposed by the geas, her hair would remain green, but if she violated any aspect, her hair would turn brown, and she’d be left powerless for a year and a day.
Ebenezer nodded slightly toward Alpha as he bit into a fried chicken leg. He wanted her to know that he knew she was there. Then, he put Alpha out of his mind and considered the other three. The way that they had moved through the room like sharks had automatically marked them as Cutters, not soldiers. Cutters began their careers as soldiers, of course, moving from being just enforcers and bodyguards to joining a soldier fratoy where they would serve under Cutters to eventually being elevated to the rank of Cutter. Cutters were the elite soldiers, the assassins, the personal protection for bosses, and, if they proved smart, they became lieutenants themselves with the potential to become bosses themselves.
All three were male. One was dressed in a red ball cap with the University of Georgia logo on it as well as a UGA football jersey. Ebenezer pegged him as a powrie, a vampiric Fae who sustained and empowered himself by dipping his cap into freshly spilled blood. Though relatively rare, an inordinate number of powries filled the ranks of Frateco Cutters, so Ebenezer wasn’t too surprised.
Another of the Cutters was also dressed in a backwards ball cap and football jersey, but instead of the University of Georgia, this one’s attire was the orange and white of the University of Tennessee Volunteers. The color of the hat alone, bright orange, precluded this one being another powrie. Ebenezer’s True Sight revealed the Vols fan was a hobgoblin. Hobgoblins were the result of a Seelie or Unseelie Sidhe mating with a Wild Fae goblin. Goblins weren’t the horrid little creatures that fantasy fiction and games made them out to be. If not yet bonded to a master, Wild Fae goblins actually were rather puny, buried under tons of restrictive geasa, but when enslaved to a Seelie or Unseelie master, an Erlking, those restrictions fell aside and goblins became incredibly powerful creatures, the most powerful and terrifying of which were the Wild Hunt Goblins. Hobgoblins gained a large portion of their goblin parent’s power without all the crazy restrictions and need of bonding with a master. They also gained their Sidhe parent’s largely human looks, but they still needed to glamour in order to hide their green skin and jagged teeth.
The fourth member of the group looked like a mixed-race male model, sort of like a cross between Tyrese Gibson or Shemar Moore and Antonio Sabato, Jr. or Channing Tatum. Ebenezer guessed that the beautiful man was a svartalf, probably underestimated his entire life because of his good looks. It worked for women.
While the four Cutters were being served, Ebenezer began to take in the rest of the dining room. Alpha and her cronies were tucking into their lunch with gusto, just like Ebenezer. After a few minutes of carefully observing, the Tuath De spotted two more Cutters, both women. The cute young sprite was nowhere in sight, probably dismissed, Ebenezer hoped. These two female Cutters raised the number of his enemies to six. Two less than Mack had dealt with at Athena’s house, but Alpha had learned the lesson of tangling with a Llewellyn. Six Cutters would be deadlier and more effective than three times as many Soldatoy.
The female Cutters were dressed in business attire, pant suits, unlike the casual hiking attire of Alpha and her three boys. The two women studiously ignored everybody and everything except one another and the food between them, but Ebenezer could tell they were watching him. His True Sight showed one to be a dryad and the other to be a pixie. Dryads could be dangerous in a forest, even one that wasn’t their home forest, and female pixies were actually shapeshifters of a sort, able to shrink down to a foot or two tall and sprout wings. Doing so would preclude modern weapons and body armor, but she could prove to be a highly effective scout or even carry out surprise attacks.
As he switched from fried chicken to the oven baked pork chops, Ebenezer was grateful to be in such a public place as this. The Cutters would not attack while there were so many witnesses milling around. Alpha was fond of stealth and using a suppressed .22 at close range. The powrie would statistically favor a small sharp knife or straight razor. Ebenezer couldn’t even begin to estimate what the svartalf or the hobgoblin would favor, and for all he knew, the two women were a sniper team.
Ebenezer begged off desert. He was comfortably full as it was, and the apple butter on the biscuits had been desert enough for him, he told his waitress as he gave her enough cash to cover his bill and leave her an extravagant tip. Then, he pulled on his jacket and picked up his backpack. He gave Alpha a small nod, which she saw and glared back at him. Ebenezer stopped at the table with the two female Cutters.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said. “I am going for a walk, away from innocent bystanders. Tell your boss lady that I’ll be waiting for her down Dillard House Lane. You might also want to tell her that the city police headquarters is practically next door, just past the distillery, so we should make this quick, okay?”
The two Cutters stared at him in shock as he gave them a jaunty little salute and set off. The pixie was instantly on her phone. Ebenezer began to whistle a little tune as he strolled through the gift shop before heading outside and down the lane toward the stables.
Chapter Twelve
Dillard, Georgia
Friday, May 10, 2019
“IT’S A TRAP,” ALPHA muttered. “He’s got that commando guy hiding in the bushes here somewhere.”
“Sheila confirmed he was alone all the way here from Pigeon Forge,” Monday, the svartalf, said with a barely suppressed sigh.
The two of them were standing outside on the Dillard House’s porch. Monday was loving this place. He was already planning on bringing his wife and kids here, but he’d probably wait until Fall when the leaves were changing, hit up the local produce stands for apples and fresh vegetables. Hopefully, Alpha wouldn’t decide to just go ahead and burn the whole place down.
“What do you wanna do, boss?”
Alpha rubbed her eyes. “He’s so close, Monday. The man who murdered my brother. I can taste his blood on my tongue. I do not want to lose him.”
“We’re five of the heaviest Cutters in the Southeast, and you’re one of the best Cutters in North America, Alpha. What’s got you so worried?”
“You didn’t hear what happened in Dover?”
“I took in a fratoy of seven soldiers, three of whom the regional bosses have been eyeing for promotion to Cutter, and I’m the only one who walked away, and I mean that literally. This big ass commando guy used mines and grenades to blow my team apart and blow up our transpo. My chest is still wrapped tight because of all the broken ribs I have from him putting almost a dozen .45 slugs into my armor.”
“Jesus!”
“I don’t know who that guy was, but I’m sure he’s connected to this guy somehow, and once I’ve tortured the commando’s name out of him, I’m gonna kill this guy, and then, I’m gonna go kill the commando and his entire fucking family.”
Monday frowned. “Alpha, you got issues, girl. Seriously, you need some intense therapy. Seriously.”
Alpha couldn’t help but snort a little chuckle. Monday was as close to a friend as she had. “You’re making my ribs hurt.”
“Sorry.”
“I want Garcia and Noel to swing left, and Scotty and Sniegowski can swing right. You and me, we’re going straight up the middle toward those stables back there,” Alpha decided.
“I’ll pass along the orders while you compose yourself.”
“Fuck you,” Alpha snorted.
“Please, girl, not even with Scotty’s dick.”
Alpha shrugged. “Not a bad plan, that.”
“I thought you liked girls.”
“I thought you liked farm animals.”
“Are you calling my wife a farm animal?”
“No, but I can see the resemblance. It’s a good thing she can cook.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not even with Garcia’s pussy.”
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