THIRTY THREE
PANDORA STORMED down her hallway and out into her penthouse loft. Looking up, her aura seared in red.
“What the hell now?”
Sharp shadows raked across the row of glass above. At the windows, the figures gathered in a bunch. Dragomir, Barby the Barbarian, while Nukeman carried the little sick human, D'Andre Walker, in his arms.
Pandora opened the portal, and they all pushed inside like an invading guerrilla army.
“Why the hell would you bring him here?”
Dragomir flapped his leathery wings into a compact fold behind him. “And a beautiful morning to you too, Miss Melt.”
Barby stomped out into her hallway and inspected the suite.
Pandora snapped at him. “Hey. Watch your step, ox. What if someone saw him?”
Dragomir quipped, “That sort of thing should no longer concern us. A
