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good.”
    “Always.” Nick turned around and headed for the door. Luckily Grim didn’t speak to him again until they were on the street and away from Rémi.
    “Aww, Nicky, that’s so sweet. Your mama loves you so.”
    Nick froze instantly. “You don’t mock my mother. You don’t speak of her in anything but the most reverent of tones. I don’t care if you are Death, I will open a can of Cajun whup-ass all over you, boy.”
    Grim arched one brow as his two companions took a step back, as if giving him space to beat Nick into a bleeding pulp. “Normally, I’d be handing you the can opener and daring you to go for it. Be glad I owe a debt that precludes me from killing you right now. But don’t push it. While you have a predetermined death, your own free will decisions can override that. Put that in the bank and think about it before you try to make a withdrawal.”
    Nick frowned at him. “What do you mean I have a predetermined death?”
    “Did I stutter?”
    “No.”
    “Do I look like Webster’s?”
    Nick frowned. “No.”
    “Then you should understand what I said, since I didn’t speak in code. Every mortal creature is born with an expiration date. Some immortals, too. Set by the big clockmaker. But excessive stupidity and moronic tendencies can shorten it. Pissing me off is one really good way to cut yours down to three seconds from now.”
    The ice in his voice as he spoke went a long way in making Nick back down. Not that he made a habit of that. Far from it. His mom often called him Snapper after the snapping turtle. Because anytime you sink your teeth into something, you won’t let ago until lightning strikes you. It was sadly true.
    However, his survival instinct won out. “So what are we doing, anyway?”
    Grim gave him a droll stare. “We’re going to Bubba’s. Isn’t that what you told your mom?”
    “Yeah, but I thought—”
    “For the first lesson, I can train you anywhere. Just remember, I won’t be seen. You will be.”
    Nick considered that. “Bubba’s it is.” He was the one person who wouldn’t even bat an eyelash that Nick was talking to an “imaginary” friend. Heck, he’d probably bring one of his own out to play, too.
    “So who sent you to train me, anyway?”
    Grim grinned. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
    “Then how do I know I can trust you?”
    “You’re still breathing, right? If an MOD comes to you and you see them and you live through it, obviously we’re here for your good and not your demise.”
    “MOD?”
    “Messenger of Death.” The moment Grim spoke those words, Nick saw an image of him standing with his wings extended, his eyes flashing red, and his face a glowing purple skeleton.
    “You like to freak people out, don’t you?”
    Death grinned. “Absolutely. I love the sounds of fear they make. Music to my ears.”
    And on that note, Nick decided it would be best to continue on. No, he wasn’t sure he could trust Grim, but …
    It wasn’t worth angering him. So he turned down Royal and made his way to the Triple B—the only computer and gun store in the world—at least that Nick knew about. And that said it all about Bubba, whose logo was him standing over a shot, smoking computer with a gun slung over his shoulder.
     
    1-888-CA-BUBBA
    IF I CAN’T TAKE CARE OF YOUR COMPUTER PROBLEMS ONE WAY …
    I’LL TAKE CARE OF THEM ANOTHA’
    Yeah, Nick knew all kinds of people.
    “Triple B?” Grim asked as they approached the sign that hung above the door. “What’s that stand for?”
    Nick scratched the back of his neck. “There’s some debate on that. Some think it’s for Big Bubba Burdette. Others believe it stands for Big Balls and Brains.”
    “What does Bubba say?”
    “He changes it every time someone asks.”
    Grim smiled. “I like him already.”
    Nick slowed as he saw the damage from the night before. The main window had duct tape over the broken panes. The front door, which had been blasted off its hinges, had been chained in