As if seeing Kimberly walk into a Church of the God of Light wasn't bad enough, now one of Frank Pyton's goons has to show up too.
This time it's Joe Callhan — one of Frank's top men — trying to drag me into their criminal organization.
A bald mountain of muscle with barely enough brains to tie his own shoes, standing damn near two meters tall.
I ran into him a little while ago in an alley in the Bronx, although I'm pretty damn sure our meeting was no coincidence.
At least Frank Pyton has a bit of class and an education. He creeps me the fuck out, but at least the guy can put together a coherent sentence.
As for Joe, I seriously doubt he's ever opened a book in his life. I'm pretty sure a three-year-old could speak better than he can.
"So, are you planning to tail me all fucking night or what?!" I snap, my blood-red axe still clutched in my hands, fresh blood dripping from its blade.
At my feet lie the decapitated bodies of six members of a small-time local drug ring.
