When Manuel collected his gear and climbed into Alex’s dead black upscale SUV, he felt like he was climbing into a hearse. He wasn’t sure if he’d be getting out again, at least not in the same shape he was now. Premonitions of things he did not want to see, hear, or know had the hair on the back of his neck rising like a forest of stiff pricks. He muttered a quick prayer to the mountain spirits and then to the saints in the church where he’d gone as a boy.
Somebody, help me. Please. So this guy Alex has powers or talents or something that may serve against things I don’t even want to admit might exist. Werewolves. Demons. Vampires. Soul-stealers. Shape-shifters…
He didn’t know whether to cross himself or hold on tight to the medicine bag that hung around his neck, stuffed out of sight be
