1 Introduction (Kim)

I give a sigh picking up my last table of the day. Three dollar tip, it could've been worse. After all there was only four of them and their tab was only thirty bucks. At least I get to go home. Dropping the last of the dishes to be washed, my eyes glanced at the calendar. Crap Friday.

"Hey Kim, What's your plans for tonight?" Chris asked yet again. The guy was cute in that nervous was the yearbook editor sort of way. I never would go there, one he was like five years older than me. That fact alone would guarantee him a beat down by my over protective inhumanly muscle bound father. If he was lucky it would just be him and not some of the other guys from his motorcycle club. Good guys, if you can get passed the fact that they all look like they could eat you for breakfast and not bat an eyelash.

"Sorry Chris, My night will be no doubt cleaning up after my old man's friends. They have this whole meet at the clubhouse every Friday thing." I shrug my shoulders and go punch out. Growing up in my family was … interesting. I so cannot wait till I go off to college in three months.

The drive was not long, even though I try to take the long way. In a town this size the long way only adds about seven minutes to my drive, even in my beat up truck.  There was a time I thought these guys were the best thing since sliced bread. Growing up I never wanted for anything and it was like a group of big kids. Now I am starting to think I might be the only adult in our merry band of leather wearing warriors.

As I turn off my truck my dad comes around from the back yard. "Hey angel. Come on back few of the guys brought their sons this week." Great the jr leather wearing posse. I never knew if this was my dad's way of trying to set me up with one of his buddies kids or not, but at least once a month since I was a kid, his friends brought their kids. Sadly none of them seem to have a female sperm among them, none except my dad. Lucky me, means I am the only chick in a house full of guys. One good thing about that is I know how to kick ass. Hell if I didn't, we probably wouldn't have a house with walls by now.

"Great Pop. I think I am going to go inside for a bit though." His frown made it clear I was going to be playing hostess. I sighed, "Give me like an hour. My feet are killing me and I smell like a kitchen." I couldn't help smile when he smiled at me. I am the only person who gets that smile, and maybe part of me is still that little girl that he use to swing around on his shoulders.

I was barely out of the shower when I heard Jimmy yelling for me from down stairs. Jimmy is probably my best friend out of this group of ruffians. He's funny and not bad to look at, long black hair just brushing his shoulders and blue eyes. Oh how many times have I seen girls near drop to their knees with just a smile from him. Too bad we have known each other since we were three. I just can't go there. Once you have seen someone shit themselves no less than three times, it's hard to get past it. Granted he would say it doesn't count because he was only five. I say five or not, I can't go there.

"Relax Jimmy boy. Just got to finish getting dressed." I yell down to him and silent start counting to three. Before I even reach three I hear Jimmy and at least two of the other guys. "Yo! Kim! You know we have your back." That from Jimmy. "We can help!" Yup there is the other two eggheads. Did I mention I was the only girl in our group. My mom disappeared when I was four. The other guys had exs or girlfriends, but Fridays weren't for old ladies.

I stood in front of my mirror, running a brush through my chocolate mane.  It always took so long to tame it, thanks to my mother's African genes and my father's French heritage. I'm not sure how they met, my mom was from South Africa and according to my dad he lived in this town since before I was born. Most likely it was some vacation down to one of the beaches. I shrug and pull my hair into a ponytail, turn and head for the guys who are anything but quiet at the bottom of the steps.

******

I stood looking around my kitchen, where to start cleaning. The guys all left 'to hit a bar', only me and a couple of the younger guys remained. I wanted Jimmy to stay, but him being a prospect meant he followed where they went. For some reason none of the boys were allowed to prospect until they were twenty. Jimmy finally got his cut a few months back on his twentieth birthday. There has been some debate on if they would allow me my own cut. A year and two months before I find out. Kinda crappy if they don't seeing I have been cleaning up after them for almost ten years now.

I shake my head and decide it can wait till tomorrow, Dad might even help then. I head to my bedroom and get a few hours shut eye. I startle awake hearing the guys coming in from bar. My clock announcing in bright red lights that it was just after midnight. That was new; they never come back before two. That's when I hear the sounds of distress, a couple guys calling for a first aid kit.

Jumping out of bed I quickly make my way down stairs. "What's going on?" My dad was standing outside his bedroom and turned to me. "Nothing Angel, go back to bed. There was just a bar fight a couple guys got hurt." I frown looking at my dad and the other guys blocking the door. I must be hearing things, cause I swear I just heard growling from the bedroom. That's when I noticed Jimmy wasn't among the people in the hall.

My voice wavers a little. "Where's Jimmy?" My dad gives me a tight smile and walks to me. Turning me to face the steps. "Jimmy is fine; he just has a small cut in his arm. We'll patch him up and he will be good as new." I turn to protest, I want to see my friend. The words died before I could speak them, my eyes drawn to my dad's chest. His jacket had a long slice through it, like someone had tried to gut him. That alone was reason for concern, but not what had me staring so hard. I reach up and pull from the slice in the jacket what seemed to be a clump of dog hair mixed with blood and dirt.

"Dad..? Did the person you fought with have dogs or something?" Holding up the evidence for my dad to see. My dad stared at it for a moment too long before his eyes met mine. "Yeah… yeah they did."

Without saying another would he gives me a gentle shove to the steps. His face closed off, showing no emotion whatsoever and clearly telling me that was the end of the discussion. I made my way back to my bedroom, lying on top of my blankets, staring at the clump of fur. Did they bring the dog back with them? Is that why I heard the growling? Did Jimmy get bit and he was worse than my dad let on?

I fell asleep with those questions running in my mind. That might be the reason I dreamed of warriors fighting giant dogs, holy warriors that turn into beasts of war.