Preface
For Jack Waverly, hunting runs in the family. That is, if you really want to call it a family. His father raised him like a soldier, whose father raised him like a soldier, etc. That was how it worked for the Waverly's. Generation after generation, the Waverly men were lucky enough to find love – or just plain lust – have a son or two and pass down the family legacy: hunting the things that go bump in the night.
Jack got lucky. He fell in love with Claire Owens, the daughter of a hunter. She understood his lifestyle, knew almost everything he did about the various creatures and spirits that roamed the earth under most folk's radar, and could seriously kick some demon butt.
Their love was like a deranged fairy tale romance: boy meets girl, they fall in love, get married, and fight in the great apocalyptic war side by side; happily ever after. All that was needed was a couple of sons to pass on the legacy that the Waverly's hold so dear: saving the world, in essence.
It was a twisted, strange, generally lonely life to live. Somebody had to do it, though. Jack would bring up his boys with strength of mind, body, and spirit. He would instill in them integrity, honor, determination, and all of the skills and tools it would take to make them great warriors – just like all the other men in his family had been taught.
There was only one minor snag in the plan: Jack and Claire had two beautiful daughters.