Holden Pars tapped his fork absentmindedly on his plate. He had eaten all but the last few bites of his breakfast skillet, but had hardly tasted the food. He’d been too busy discussing with Violet, who sat across from him now, the likelihood that Saul had any spies in Blackstone.

Holden looked around the small restaurant, which had been unimaginatively dubbed “The Blackstone Diner.” Lack of creative name didn’t seem to hurt business here, however. Every table in the joint was full, and several waitresses in grease-stained aprons rushed around with coffeepots, order pads, and plates piled high with eggs and bacon.

Everyone here seemed ordinary enough. No one smelled like shifter in here, and Violet had assured him that there was no magic in the air, which meant there were no wizards around. So why did Holden still feel so uneasy?

A large roar of laughter came from one of the corner tables, where several men pounded the table and knocked over one of their coffee mugs in their excitement. The noise had startled Holden, but the men seemed harmless enough, if a bit overly boisterous. He suspected that, in the last hour alone, those men had consumed what should have been a week’s worth of caffeine. A harried waitress rushed over to clean up the spilled coffee, brushing away their apologies with a polite smile. Holden admired the girl’s poise. If he’d had to deal with a rowdy crew like that, he’d have lost his shit on them a long time ago. But she seemed to take it all in stride, albeit a tired stride. The dark circles under her eyes gave away the fact that she hadn’t slept much the night before.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she,” Violet said, following Holden’s gaze. Her words sounded almost like an accusation, and their meaning was clear. They were here to deal with the threat of Saul’s army, not to ogle pretty waitresses. He flushed, embarrassed that he’d been caught staring at the waitress, although he had no reason to be ashamed. He hadn’t been admiring the waitress’s appearance, although, now that Violet pointed it out, the girl was quite pretty. Woman, not girl, Holden thought. The waitress looked to be about Holden’s age, after all. She had curly red hair that she had tried to pull back into a neat bun, with mixed success. Her green eyes sparkled from across the room, and, despite the exhaustion in her face, her features were pretty.

Holden looked at Violet and shrugged. “She’s not bad-looking,” he said. “But I was looking more at those men then her. They’re awfully boisterous.”

Violet gave a slight nod. “Yeah. But they’re harmless enough. No shifters or wizards in that crew.”

Holden nodded, too. “I guess there’s not much else to see in here, then. Should we get going? Or did you want one more cup of coffee before we venture out?”

Before Violet could respond, the front door of the diner swung open, and a tall, red-faced man stormed in, dragging a sullen looking boy behind him. The boy must have been about twelve or thirteen. His face still held traces of lingering boyhood, but his deep green eyes held all the defiance of a full-grown man. His mop of dark black curls shook furiously as he struggled to get away from the grasp of his angry captor.

“I didn’t do anything!” the boy yelled.

The man holding him ignored him. “Where’s Elise?” he growled.

No one responded. The whole diner fell silent as the man back and forth across the room, venom in his gaze. “I said, where’s Elise?” he repeated.

Everyone seemed to be collectively holding their breath. Holden glanced sideways at Violet. She was watching the scene with mild interest.

“I swear to God, I’m going to beat up all of you in here if someone doesn’t tell me where Elise is. This good-for-nothing boy of hers—”

“You ain’t beatin’ up no one,” interrupted one of the men from the table in the corner. “How many times do we have to tell you? Boys are gonna be boys, alright?”

“This is more than boys being boys! This kid is out of control.”

“You listen here,” said the man at the table standing now. “You let go of that boy or—”

“It’s alright, Ralph,” another voice interrupted. “Let me deal with him.”

Holden raise his eyebrows in surprise as the waitress, who had been bent low to the ground to wipe up spilled coffee, rose to her full height. Her dishrag hung by her side, sopping wet from the dark black coffee she’d been trying to clean up.

“You need to get this kid of yours on a leash, Elise,” the angry man snarled.

“What did he do this time?” the waitress asked. She was the “Elise” the man was looking for. Holden looked back and forth between Elise and the boy. He could see the resemblance now: the same green eyes, and the same face shape. Even their curly hair was similar, albeit different colors.

“I didn’t do anything, mom!” the boy yelled, trying unsuccessfully to swing his arms and punch his captor. The angry man was too strong for him, though. He grabbed the boy’s arms with his one free arm, and gave a violent shake with his other arm. The boy’s whole body shook, and he yelped in pain.

“Hey!” the man named Ralph shouted, coming to Elise’s defense again. “You leave him alone.”

“Ralph, please,” Elise pleaded. But the men at Ralph’s table seemed to be itching for a fight. They rose as one, shouting and running toward the man who held the boy captive. Fists started flying, and plates of food shattered on the floor as the brawling men ran into tables. Half the restaurant patrons were shrieking in terror, and half were cheering as though they were watching some sort of sporting event. Elise yelled loudest of all, imploring them to stop. A man who had the look of a manager came out from the back of the restaurant when all the noise started, and threw up his hands in frustration.

“Elise! Not again!” he yelled. But his voice was lost in the din, and even Elise didn’t seem to hear him anymore. She was screaming hysterically now, and trying to fight her way through the tangle of flying fists and kicking legs. Holden wanted to yell at her to stop. She was going to get a broken nose, or worse, if she pushed her way into that mess. But then he saw the source of her hysteria. The boy had been caught up in the chaos. No one was paying him much mind anymore, not even the angry man who had first dragged him into the diner. But the boy was hopelessly trapped, whimpering as he held his arms protectively over his face to ward off the punches that were flying in every direction.

Holden sprang into action. He jumped from his seat and ran toward Elise, ignoring Violet’s cries of protest. With firm hands, he grabbed Elise by the shoulders and pulled her back from the edges of the brawl.

“No!” she yelled, struggling against him. “No! My boy! They’re going to beat him to a pulp!”

“Listen to me!” Holden yelled, shaking her shoulders. “Look at me, and listen!”

Elise looked at him, and abruptly stopped her hysterical crying. An expression of surprise crossed her face. “Who are you?”

“A friend,” Holden answered. “I’m going to get your boy out of there. Go wait outside the front door for me. I’ll bring him to you and you can get him away from here, alright?”

Elise hesitated a moment, squinting her eyes and, Holden guessed, trying to decide whether she could trust this stranger. But after she looked back at the brawl again, she turned back to Holden and nodded. She must have known she didn’t stand much of a chance of rescuing her boy herself.

“Okay,” she said in a shaky voice. “Please hurry.”

Holden nodded, then released her shoulders. She scampered toward the front door of the diner, and Holden dove into the mess of fighting men. He used one arm to shield his face and head, and another arm to push aside anyone who stood in between him and the boy, who was now curled up in a ball on the floor in the very middle of the brawl.

The men were all brawny, and no stranger to fist-fights from the looks of things. But Holden still had no trouble pushing them aside. His dragon strength coursed through his arms as he fought his way to the boy and scooped him up, easily holding him in one arm despite the fact that the youth was more of a teenager than a boy. The dueling men seemed to not even notice Holden and the boy. They were so caught up in the fight that they didn’t seem to even know what they were fighting about anymore. They shouted and hurrahed and yelled out unintelligible threats, taking joy in the thrill of the battle without caring what that battle was actually about.

“Let me go!” the boy screamed suddenly, and tried to punch at Holden and wriggle away. “Let me go! I didn’t do anything!”

Holden tightened his grip around the boy in response, continuing to drag him through the fray.

“Hush, boy. I’m trying to help you!” Holden said through gritted teeth. Getting out of the throng of fighting men was proving more difficult than getting in had been. Holden only had one free hand now, and trying to ward off flying punches while pushing through the angry men was too much of a task for just one hand. Holden did the best he could, wincing as an angry fist landed square on the left side of his neck. That was going to be sore later. He tried to keep his head low as he inched through the mob, cursing at the boy in his right arm who was still desperately trying to get away from him.

When he finally broke free, he dragged the wriggling boy toward the front door and pushed it open with a violent kick of his foot. Elise immediately ran toward the boy, pulling him into her arms and looking him over to make sure he wasn’t seriously injured.

“I could just kill you, Nick!” she said, her voice a half yell and half sob.

“Well that would make all of my effort just now kind of pointless,” Holden quipped. But Elise and the boy ignored his little jest.

“I didn’t do anything mom, I swear,” the boy said.

Elise boxed his ears and then turned to Holden. “How can I ever thank you?” she said.

Holden shook his head, which was starting to pound from where it had been struck a few too many times in the last few minutes. “No need. Just get him away from here before that crew inside realizes he’s gone.”

Elise bit her lip and nodded. “Come on, Nick,” she said in a firm tone. “We’re going home. And then you’re going to tell me what you did, because I know you. I know you did something.”

Nick scowled at his mother, but didn’t say anything as she started dragging him away. Holden held a hand up to gingerly cover his right cheek, which was swelling slightly from a punch. He watched through squinting eyes as Elise marched off without looking back. But Nick, the boy, turned back just before they rounded a corner and went out of sight. And Holden’s eyes widened at what he saw an instant before Nick disappeared from view.

It had been brief, but unmistakable. There, in the bright morning sunlight, Holden had seen Nick’s eyes glow like an animal’s. And there was only one explanation for that.

“Looks like there are shifters in this town, after all,” Holden whispered as he stared at the now empty street.