“You can stop us at a pizza drive-through,” Masaaki said.

Dave made a face. “I don’t think Soldotna has anything like that. How about Arbys?”

“I’m a vegetarian,” Masaaki said, grimacing at the idea of a meat sandwich.

“Seriously?! A vegetarian samurai?!”

“Many samurai were vegetarians,” Masaaki said, frowning. “It is the way of Buddhism to not harm the innocent animals of this earth unless they attempt to hurt you first.”

“Maaan, I dunno,” Dave said, looking him over dubiously. “You had me right up until the vegetarian thing. A vegetarian samurai?”

“They were common for the era!” Masaaki snapped.

“Okay,” he said, clearly finding the idea amusing, “but what, you’re gonna feed the muscles you need to take on ancient dragons with carrots?”

“If I needed to fight an ancient dragon,” Masaaki said, confused, “and I had no access to sunlight, then I’d probably consume a protein shake beforehand.”

“Dude, they don’t have shakes in DnD.”

Masaaki was confused. “Then why did you bring up the ancient dragon?”

Dave groaned. “Okay. We’ll just go to Subway. Everyone good with Subway?”

Masaaki, who thoroughly approved of the vegetarian options at Subway, nodded vigorously. “I’ll have a foot long vegetarian sub with extra pickles, banana peppers, and olives.”

“Dude, you’re coming in.”

Masaaki was ecstatic by that idea. Bonnie had never let him go into a Subway before, always making him stay in the car.

“Need…surgery…” Thunderbird moaned.

“No you don’t,” Freyja said curtly. “The bleeding will stop in a couple hours. As soon as we get you out of the vehicle, you can walk it off. Until then, act more like a man and less like a small child that stubbed its toe.”

Thunderbird’s response was a cross between a whine, a moan, and a little sob. He started banging his head against the window, leaving little bloody smears where his lips touched the glass.

“Okay, here we go,” Dave said, pulling the car up to the distinctive sign with the little arrow that Masaaki had learned to identify from a distance. “Let’s go get some food, then we can get to that place up north!” He jumped out and started into the shop. And, when he didn’t try to stop him, Masaaki tugged open the door and started to follow.

Freyja grabbed him by the kimono. “What is wrong with this human?” she demanded. “What is LARPing?”

Masaaki considered trying to explain it to her, then decided that it would be too difficult to convince Freyja that some humans were just so stupid they wanted to pretend in things that did exist, but they thought didn’t exist. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said. “I’ll bring you a sub. Lord Thunderbird, do you want a sub?”

“Spicy Italian, footlong, extra mayo,” he groaned.

“What is he saying?” Freyja demanded.

“Just stay here, megami,” Masaaki said with a bow. “I will retrieve you something as befits your station.” Then, channeling what Bonnie had told him at least three dozen times, he said, “Don’t lock the doors, don’t open the doors, don’t break the windows, don’t mess with buttons, and don’t try to glare down angry thugs through the window.” She had been forced to add the last one after Masaaki had been accosted by one such thug and she had returned from the sub shop to find him straddling the hoodlum, making him beg for mercy with pressure points in his wrist and shoulder.

“Is it that dangerous?” Freyja asked, glancing at the vehicle around her as if it had grown enchanted horns.

“Very,” Masaaki said solemnly. “Some spit burning oil, and others eject their users into traffic if they’re not wearing a seatbelt.”

Huddled in the back seat, Thunderbird started to laugh miserably.

Bowing deeply, Masaaki went off to see, for once, what a Subway hostess did to make such delicious food…

Bonnie stepped out of the office of her new shrink more than a little shellshocked. He’d already drained her accounts by sixty-six thousand, according to the invoice, which included fourteen hours of shrinking Björn—which, she had informed her, would automatically be considered ‘hazard pay’, regardless of what mood the barghest was in that day—as well as twenty-five thousand for ‘pain and suffering’ and a retainer of five thousand to get him ‘set up.’ Plus odds and ends, ‘tax advice,’ and ‘amenities’.

She was still standing on the front step of the shrink’s office, still reeling from just how badly she’d been goatfucked, when Jessie stepped out the door and hurried down the steps after her. “I totally forgot,” he said, offering her a set of keys. “I figured you’d need a rental, seeing how Björn screwed up your last ride.”

It was midday, the sun was hurting her eyes despite the heavy sun-blocking clothing and shades that her new psychologist—thoughtfully, she had to admit—had provided after informing her just how badly she’d been assraped by the barghest’s little ‘couch-man’ adventure.

And despite the fact that a lot of the ‘amenities’ the invoice had detailed had been vampire-friendly curtains and clothing, Jessie having already rented a car for her completely surprised her. She blinked at the keys, then up at Jessie’s Celtic green-eyed face. “Uh,” she said. “Thanks.” She gingerly took the keychain with gloved hands.

“Cheer up,” Jessie said, grinning. “You’ll feel better soon. We’ll have our first session in four hours. Go get a latte or something. Relax.”

Relax. With a barghest that she had freed loose somewhere in Willow. “I really should go try to find Björn,” Bonnie said, thinking of the damage the barghest would do on his own.

“Björn’s out in the woods,” Jessie said. “Best place for him to be right now, you ask me.” He cocked his head and glanced at his Apple Watch. “I’ve gotta grab the kids from school or I’d do that session with you now. Do you have something you can do in town for a few hours until my wife gets home?”

Thinking about her recent and chronic loss of property, Bonnie grimaced. “I guess I need a new phone,” she muttered. Her last one had been crushed and soaked in blood somewhere in the last twelve hours, and she wasn’t even sure whose blood.

“Well then, there ya go,” Jessie said, slapping her on the back. “I’ll see you at seven.”

Bonnie made a face. The last thing, honestly, she wanted to do was get her mind picked at by a shrink, but considering how crappy the rest of her days had been lately—and the fact the last thing she remembered was ripping apart living paramilitary men with her bare hands—she figured she could withstand an hour on a couch talking about her problems. Jessie had actually insisted, saying he wanted to get to the ‘root’ of her issues. They’d briefly discussed her nakedness phobia, her thing with men, and Björn’s insistence that she was some sort of dead soulmate, but Jessie had promised to offer some ‘insights’ in four hours, once he was done babysitting.

She watched the psychologist skip down the stairs, whistling, as he jogged to his car.

A BMW, she thought, with a grimace. Considering she was his only client, she knew who was paying for his fancy wheels. From what Jessie had made it sound like, he hadn’t even finished college.

He’s gonna be the best-paid shrink in existence and he didn’t even finish his degree, Bonnie thought bitterly, watching him climb into his fancy car and drive away in a flash of polished chrome.

Still grumbling under her breath, she went down to the brand new Subaru he had rented for her—apparently Björn had mentioned somewhere along Jessie’s nightmarish 8-hour drive from Soldotna to circling Anchorage a few dozen times that she had mentioned having a fetish for ‘Subaru’ and the psychologist had somehow remembered that…

Maybe he’s actually a decent shrink, she thought, having to appreciate the deep blue Forester—her favorite color. Her last shrink couldn’t seem to be bothered remembering not to schedule her during daylight hours. Jessie had not only remembered her favorite car manufacturer, but the model, and color.

Grunting, she unlocked the door and climbed inside. The plasticky smell of new car was actually comforting. She spent a few minutes figuring out the radio, window, and seat controls, then fired up the vehicle to head to GCI to buy a new phone. She hadn’t bothered bringing her old one after seeing the battered, bloody thing Jessie had mournfully handed to her in an envelope, opting to leave it in the office and bring the SIM card rather than try to explain to the service guy why it looked like someone had been murdered with it.

The phone store was pretty empty for that time mid-week, and she didn’t have to wait to get seen. Thinking she had time to burn and might as well splurge, Bonnie asked for the latest model of the most expensive thing they had. The hungry-looking guy behind the counter was thrilled to hook her up with all the latest bells and whistles, which ended up being almost two grand, all-told. After throwing three million into a fire, Bonnie barely noticed it as he swiped her card and filled out the paperwork, then spent an hour with the sales tech learning all the new features and downloading her contact list from the cloud.

Once they’d synched her phone to the old one, got her email and voicemail set up, ahd downloaded her favorite apps, Bonnie thanked the salesman for yet another assault to her bank account and went out to her car to make a call.

She was trying unsuccessfully to get through to Björn and Naeyen’s new phones—which she had insisted they add to her plan while they were in that three-million-dollar jewelry spree—when the little voicemail notification dinged. Frowning, she clicked it.

Theo. He’d called twice two hours ago, before she’d entered the GCI Store. Her heart started to hammer, thinking of Masaaki. She hit PLAY.

“Hey Bonnie, this is Theo,” Theo’s voice said on the other end. Immediately, Bonnie felt a little wave of relief, as already, she was finding herself starting to ache in the chest where she needed another feeding. Then he said, “I…uh…ran into a problem in Kenai. I’m in Soldotna now. Just grabbed a new phone. I can’t find Masaaki anywhere and the place where I left him is basically a swath of death. Weird death. Like a corpse-licking necromancer or something. If you could get back to me and let me know you’re alive, that’d be great.”

The second message was much less pleasant. “Okay, so you’re not gonna believe this, but I think I just saw Masaaki steal a bag of subs from Subway wearing an ancient ensorcelled kimono and carrying a fancy new sword.”

Bonnie could believe that. She could totally believe that.

“Anyway, I think the Subway guys had called the police, so the human he was with—I know it’s weird, but I think the guy honestly believes he’s an orc—threw him into a car with a feral looking woman and what I think was a mostly-dead Thunderbird, but when I tried to chase them down, the orc guy screamed and drove faster. I couldn’t get back to my car in time to figure out which way they went, but I did hear the orc guy shouting something at Masaaki about Larping before they were out of sight. Do you know where Larping is? That a road or something?”

Bonnie groaned and started beating her head against the Forester’s brand new steering wheel. The last thing she needed was to explain to the cops why a rich Japanese dude with personalized Masamunes was stealing vegetarian subs from people making minimum wage. She dialed Theo’s number.