Percy was in a rather foul mood as he entered the station. He'd lost his cool against Wise, and he knew that there was going to be some form of blowback coming his way. It was only a matter of time before someone came knocking for him. But he would worry about some wannabe mafiosos later. For now, he was far more concerned with seeing Strange and figuring out what the man found so interesting. He pushed his way into the ops room, to see that Montoya was already inside, but Strange was still getting whatever it was he had together.
"Hey," Montoya greeted as she stared down the transcript of their interviews. Percy grunted a greeting and collapsed into his chair. She glanced up, and her eyes narrowed. "What's got you so fussy." She asked,
Percy looked at her, "Had a little run-in with Wise." Montoya put her files down and gave Percy her full attention,
"What did he want?" She asked. Percy snorted, and took a sip from his thermos.
"Told me that I needed to 'get on board,' with the program." He said,
"And what did you say?" Montoya asked, she was scrutinizing him very closely.
"I told him where he could shove his offer." Percy said simply. Montoya continued to stare at him for a moment, no doubt looking to see if there was any kind of a lie there. Finally feeling satisfied, she nodded.
"You're going to need to be careful," Montoya said, "Falcone has the entire precinct in his pocket. He won't be happy with you not being on board with things."
"I can take care of myself," Percy said,
"I know that, Metro, but these guys can be good. Car-bombs, poison, finding and killing everyone you give a damn about. These guys don't play by fair. They will do anything to get you out of the picture." Montoya explained,
"You don't seem too worried, and you got to be damn near top of their little hit-list." Percy observed,
"Because I have the commissioner of the damn department on my speed dial among other…friends." Percy could read between the lines there, "My point is. They won't touch me because they know what'll happen to them if they do. You on the other hand? You might as well be open season for these bastards. I like you Metro, just do me a favor and don't die on me yet."
Percy chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, "Don't worry about little old me Monty. It's like I said, I can take care of myself."
The door to the room opened and Strange bustled inside, "Ah, detectives, you're early. That's excellent." He seemed incredibly excited. He deposited his bag on the table. Unzipping it, he began rifling through its contents for a moment before pulling out two manila envelopes. He passed the files over to Percy and Montoya and Percy opened it. It was a full psychological profile of the bastard behind the killings, as well copies of the case notes and photographs from the latest scene.
"So, the latest killing gave me a lot of new data to work with," Strange said in excitement, and Percy couldn't help but be a little put off by the sheer excitement the man was exhibiting at the loss of human life.
"All right…what do you got for us?" Percy asked,
"Look at the way the body was butchered." Strange said, almost happily, "Rage. Pure and unadulterated rage. Look at the way the body was hacked to pieces. Look, look, look." He said pointing at the dismembered body in the profile.
"Yeah doc, we remember. Can we, um, move it a long a little please?" Montoya said, looking a little queasy. Strange looked a little annoyed that she wasn't as excited as he was, but he acquiesced.
"Does the way it was hacked apart look familiar to you? And look at the puncture wound on its back, what is that?" He asked,
"Looks like it was made a by a meat-hook." Percy observed, looking at the picture.
"Precisely, detective. A meat-hook." Strange said happily, "And look once more at the way the body was hacked apart. The limbs were all dismembered. Dismembered with a very strong, and very sharp knife. And then there is the way that the was body was strung up. What does that suggest to you,"
Percy narrowed his eyes again as he looked at the picture. The answer came to him at the same time that Montoya said it,
"They were strung up like meat in a butcher's shop." She said,
"Exactly!" Strange clapped happily, "So our guy is a butcher then?" Percy asked,
"Yes detective, I believe he is." Strange nodded, "All right," Montoya nodded, "So you're thinking that our boy here runs a butcher's shop. Think that's how he picks his targets?"
"I do," Strange nodded,
"Ok," Percy said slowly, "So we need to go back over the financial statements and see if any of them all stopped at the same butcher's deli then." He frowned, "Don't remember seeing anything like that in the records though," He muttered, as he marched over to a small stack of files in the corner of the room. Picking up a file near the middle of the stack, he pulled it out and began looking through it.
Percy combed through the file again when he spotted something. The victim had been identified as Markus Henry, he had been twenty-seven, and like the others single. No one ever had a bad thing to say about the man and he had been very healthy. He'd been an iron-man champion three years running. Percy suddenly looked up as something clicked for him. He stood from the table and strode around to the stack of files on the other side. Opening the Kirkpatrick file, he scanned the contents for a moment and then he found what he was looking for. He then repeated the process with all the other files on the victims on the table.
"Metro, what's going on?" Montoya asked, "You got something."
Percy looked up, his eyes wide. "Yeah," he said, "I think I do." He strode from the table and over to the whiteboard. Picking up a marker, he began writing on the board. When he was done, he capped the marker and stepped away, and tapped the board with his hand.
"Champion marathon runner. An award winning personal trainer. A triathlete. And an iron-man winner. All four of our dead victims were at the peak of physical health. All top of their games in their respective competitions. Physically, they were-"
"Perfect," Strange whispered, and Percy nodded. Montoya gave Percy a sharp look, as she connected the dots.
"This guy is targeting people who are physically in as perfect condition as possible. Because they'd be the perfect hosts for his little experiment. The ultimate culmination of what humanity can achieve."
"Exactly," Percy said, "We need to start looking up whoever has been winning literally anything. Weight-lifting, boxing, swimming, beauty pageants. If it involves physicality and has a winner, we need to find out the who and the what."
"I'll send it out. Get some patrols working on digging something up." Montoya said,
"Whoever we find, they get a detail. Don't tell our potential vics." Percy said quickly,
"You want to level a trap," Montoya said, and Percy nodded,
"Let this guy slip up. Have him go after someone and have our boys waiting in the wings." He explained, "While you do that, I'll start putting together the number of butchers shops within a mile of each of the victim's houses. See if I can't put together a connection."
Montoya nodded, "We're closing in on him, now let's put this nightmare to an end."
BREAK
Percy leaned back in his chair and stretched. His back popping and cracking, and he let out a groan of delighted satisfaction. His back and neck were sore. He checked the clock and he sighed. It was ten at night. Montoya had left for home hours ago. They'd managed to dig up a number of potential victims, and each of them unknowingly had a patrol escort everywhere they went. Percy had managed to dig up the local butcher shops, which was unfortunately completely unhelpful, because there had to be damn near fifty of the damn things in the general vicinity of the attacks. But Percy wasn't deterred. They knew it was only a matter of time before they caught up or the bastard slipped up again.
Unfortunately, Percy's work didn't end when Montoya left. He began a full search on the background of Megara Smith. He was in luck. Her father in fact had registered Meg's birth when she was dropped on his doorstep. She had an older sister, mortal he presumed, that lived in Gotham. Some kind of high-end jeweler. She was off in the Caymans at the moment on a honeymoon with her new husband. She did, however, have an apartment in town for when she was back in Gotham.
Percy threw on his coat and headed out to his car. The parking for the One-Seven precinct was a parking garage attached to the main building. For security purposes, there was no entrance from the garage to the main building, so Percy had to walk outside and into the garage to reach his car. As he stepped into the garage, he became immediately aware that he wasn't alone. He didn't stop moving, because he didn't want to alert them to the fact that he was alert to their presence, but he removed his sport coat, and shoved it over his over the shoulder carrying bag. He then unstrapped his shoulder and waist holsters, before he replaced his coat. He counted at least six bodies, all male, ranging around their mid-twenties to early thirties. Most were well built and their musculature spoke to strength, and all of them were congregating in the shadows a few feet from his car. Conveniently, the lights directly opposite Percy's car had all somehow burnt out at the same time, bathing the area in shadow. Percy's eyes shot over to the shadows on the eastern side of the garage, where Percy could see another person was rapidly approaching.
The new arrival, unlike the others, was decidedly female. She had an athletic build, and she moved with a precision and skill that spoke to countless of hours of experience. Percy was certain that she didn't work with the others, she had too much skill; and whereas the others simply held themselves with quiet aloofness of those who thought they were powerful she truly was powerful. Percy had an idea of who the mystery woman had to be, but drove her from his mind. He had other priorities.
He approached his car, turning his back on the men in the shadows. He knew they weren't there to simply shoot him, there were too many for this to be a simple hit. They were here to "put him in his place," to make him see reason. Problem for them though, because many of these men likely wouldn't live long enough to regret their mistake. Under different circumstances, Percy would have simply turned and opened fire. Not even the cameras would normally be a problem. But there was the matter of his other intruder. She was moving far too much for Percy to be able to use the mist to put her down. That and Percy had been using the mist far too much the past few weeks, and Percy didn't want to become reliant on it to solve his problems. He would use it in the defense of others, and to protect innocents if he had to, but he wouldn't use it in the defense of his own life. He had sworn off using his abilities for himself. He would only use them if he had to, and even then, only if it meant saving the life of someone innocent. It was why he didn't feel bad about using them when on duty. His job meant that he was always working to find and protect civilians, and that was enough justification for him. But to protect himself from some two-bit thugs? He had too much pride for that.
Percy took a steadying breath. In for ten seconds, then out for ten seconds. It worked for getting his nerves under control. When he felt he was ready, he placed one hand on the roof of his car, sitting close enough for a quick draw on his shoulder. He placed his other hand on the hood, near his hip for another quick draw. He would wait for them to make the first move. To make an intimidating move. And then it would be over before they could even register just who they'd fucked with.
"So," He said loudly, "Are we gonna do this, or are you just gonna sit there with your hands on your dicks?"
BREAK
Percy's job, Dinah decided, was far more boring than she ever imagined. For as much as television dramatized law enforcement, it was a lot of just sitting around, pouring over paperwork. To make matters worse, he was even staying late. To work on what, she didn't know. She let out a bored sigh, as she placed her chin in her hand. She understood why she was there, she even agreed to it to an extent. Percy was dangerous. He wasn't the type to let loose on innocent civilians, but he was certainly not the type to pull any punches on anyway who bade him ill will. Bodies would start piling up, which was the last thing Gotham needed.
Percy was not a cape. He was a soldier. He didn't show restraint when faced with a threat, it just wasn't who he was or how he was trained. Dinah had spent some time with Diana, learning about demigods and the kind of training they went through. They were trained, especially the Romans, to kill. To put their opponent down as quickly, and efficiently as possible. They were machines of war, and Percy was apparently the best of the best. A dog of war, a weapon to be wielded against his enemies.
Dinah was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the sound of motors in the parking garage. She was on the office building across the street from the precinct, which provided excellent coverage of both the precinct and parking garage attached to it. Dinah watched as a pair of black SUV's pulled into the garage. Blinking a sequence into her lenses, and she got a telescopic view of the garage. She watched as the cars pulled onto the same floor as Percy's car. She watched as six men piled out of the vehicles. Two of them walked over to under a pair of lights over their vehicles, and shot them out with a pair of silenced pistols, and the entire area fell into darkness.
Standing up, Dinah began stretching. Any questions about the good intentions of the men were long gone, and Dinah could feel a fight coming. With her joints sufficiently limber, she began working her way down the building. Alternating between jumps and a specialized grappling hook courtesy of Batman, she very rapidly made her way to the parking garage. An alert appeared in the corner of her lenses, as she got an image of Percy walking out of the precinct.
Her heart began to beat a little faster, and she increased her pace. She watched as Percy hesitated for a second, and his eyes narrowed, as he glanced right over at where the men were hiding. Once more, Percy seemed to know exactly where someone was, when he shouldn't have been able to see them. Dinah remembered Diana mentioning something about how Percy's control of water was unheard of, and he was rumored to be able to see the water in someone's body, which explained how he knew where the bad guys were. He removed his jacket and unlocked his holsters before replacing the coat.
He seemed to be readying himself for whatever confrontation was coming their way. His eyes glanced in her direction, and Dinah felt her heart lurch slightly. Reaching into a pocket in her jacket, she grabbed her mother's old mask and tied it around her face. She didn't think Percy would be naive enough to not recognize her, just because she wasn't wearing a wig. She paused as she positioned herself directly behind the men, she was perched on the ledge of the garage, with the ramp behind her.
Percy was placing his hands on the car, they were positioned in such a way that he could quickly draw on both of his weapons if the need were to arise. Dinah felt the familiar surge of adrenaline surge through her as she got ready, she only hoped Percy didn't do something too stupid.
She was wrong.
BREAK
The six men seemed somewhat surprised by his sudden outburst, but the collected themselves well enough and approached. Percy watched, craning his neck to get a look at the men. The lead man was probably the oldest of the group. A man in his mid-thirties, with a dark beard and dressed in a well-made peacoat, complete with matching fedora. Percy snorted.
"Who're you supposed to be, Elliot Ness and the Untouchables?" Percy laughed,
"Heard you were a bit of a clown," The man said, pulling out a large and heavy looking wrench from his coat, "We have enough clowns in this town though." Percy barked out a laugh and turned back away from the men,
"One of our friends tried to give you some advice earlier," The man said, and Percy rolled his eyes, "You were really rude to him. Hurt poor Marcus' feelings."
"Gimme some time and he won't be feeling much of anything anymore," Percy said. He was getting annoyed, he had things to do, and he didn't have the energy to waste his time on this. But he couldn't act yet, not until these guys made some show of a real threat.
"You don't seem to understand the situation you're in son," The man said, "You've upset the order of things. You're pushing buttons you ought not to be pushing." The man must have motioned for something, because several feet started moving in Percy's direction. His adrenal glands went into overdrive, and the familiar and comforting feel of his blood pounding in his ears threatened to overwhelm him.
"It's time you learn your place in the pecking order," The man said,
"Oh ho, ominous," Percy scoffed,
"Boys, teach him what happens when you cross one of ours," The man ordered, and Percy heard the rustle of fabric. Percy felt his muscles tense, as his opportunity came. One of the men put his hand on Percy's shoulder, and Percy moved. The world seemed to start moving in slow motion, and he spun, moving his hands to his shoulder and hip holsters simultaneously. His weapons were halfway out of his holsters as he turned around, and he dropped to one knee. But his weapons never made it out of their holsters. A high-pitched wail, like a banshee only far stronger, blasted through the parking garage. Percy's hands left his weapons as they instinctively went to his ears.
Looking up, he watched as four bodies were sent sailing through the air. The scream seemed almost to work as a concussive blast, hitting with the power of truck. A woman, clad in dark clothing hopped just into view, she landed a pair of sharp and rapid fast jabs to the pressure points of one of the men's sides, and he fell to the ground in a heap. She turned, grabbed the other man by the arm, and dislocated his shoulder, before throwing him violently to the ground.
Percy got shakily to his feet, at the same time as one of the other men, he charged unsteadily forward, and Percy intercepted him. His ears still ringing, and the world spinning around him, Percy buried a fist in the thug's stomach. He doubled over, as spittle dribbled from his mouth, and he collapsed. Percy stumbled as a hand gripped him around the back of the jacket, and yanked him out of the way of an incoming baseball bat. The bat hit nothing but air, and Percy stumbled forward. Grabbing the front of the bat, he rammed the handle into the chin of the guy holding it, who yelped in pain and stumbled back. The woman launched a spinning heel kick into the stumbling man's stomach and he fell to the ground.
The garage fell silent, and Percy placed his hands on his knees, and tried to get his world to stop spinning. After a few seconds of panting and labored breathing, his vision refocused, and he saw a pair of dark black leggings attached to what Percy could have sworn was a leather wrestling singlet. Standing upright, Percy arched an eyebrow.
"That shit," He panted out, "Sucks,"
Black Canary had the audacity to smirk, "I toned it down a bit for you, wouldn't have wanted you to burst an eardrum." When she spoke, her voice came out slightly modulated, and sounded a bit distorted.
"Gee, thanks," Percy said sarcastically, "And thanks for the assist I guess. But, I had that covered,"
"You were going to kill them," She said, placing her hands on her hips,
"And?" Percy asked, crossing his arms,
"And you don't see the problem with that?" She demanded,
"Only problem I see, is that I had the opportunity to remove six pieces of shit from Gotham, and you stopped me." He said,
"I stopped you from murdering six men," She snapped,
"Six men who were planning on working me over until I decided to become Falcone's little toy," Percy snapped back, "Why're you making such a big deal of this, they came after me didn't they? Or did I miss the part where I tracked them down and threatened them?"
"That's not what was going to happen here and you know it," Canary said, "You were goading them. Look at where you were positioned. Right under a security camera. You waited for them to make the first move. You were positioned so you could draw on your weapons easily and quickly. You wanted them to attack you,"
Percy shrugged unconcernedly, "Either they come for me and I put them down, or they go after someone who can't defend themselves."
"And what about doing things the right way? Making sure someone who does wrong faces justice?" She demanded, and Percy laughed,
"Bit of a difference between catching a serial killer and blowing away some gangbangers who think they're the next Capones." He said, as he walked over to his car, and perched himself on its hood. Crossing his arms he frowned at her, "So how long have the capes been keeping tabs on me," It was an obvious deflection, but Canary seemed to run with it anyway.
"Batman has been keeping tabs on you since the Auction," She said, "He wasn't too pleased to find out that a demi-"
"Stop," Percy said, raising his hand in the air, and she looked at him in confusion, "Names have power, saying that might as well put up a neon sign saying that one of my kind is here. Draws monsters in for miles. I'm protected, but any others of my kind that are in the city won't be." He sighed, and scratched behind his ear, "Diana told you, then." He said.
"Among other things," Canary said, before pausing. She regarded Percy for a moment, like she wanted to ask a question but she wasn't entirely sure how. Percy took the time to scrutinize her, there was something familiar about the woman, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.
"Why don't you use your powers?" Canary finally asked.
"Powers?" Percy asked,
"Diana told me about all the things you did. What you can do. You could have taken these schmucks in a second. Flooded the entire garage, burst all of their blood vessels at once, any of it. You just sat back and were content to fight like a normal man. A normal man, albeit with some enhanced bits and pieces but that's about it. And it's clear that you care about humanity, you care about fighting the good fight. About protecting people, so why not use the abilities you have to do that? To fight and protect?"
Percy couldn't help himself, he laughed, and it seemed to catch her off guard.
"You really don't get it, do you?" He said,
"So explain it to me," She said,
"Ah no, no, no," Percy said, "I got one woman acting as my personal shrink, I don't need two." Something flashed across her face, but she smothered it quickly.
"C'mon, satisfy my curiosity a little. I did just stop you from committing mass murder." She said with an obnoxious little smirk. Percy didn't know why he was even entertaining this, he could just get in his car and leave. He knew that she wouldn't try and stop him, but he didn't. He couldn't quite explain why, but he just didn't want to.
"Ok" He said, "Fine. You want the skinny. Here it is. These powers, these…abilities. They're a damned nightmare. I get too sad? I cause a tidal wave. I get too mad? Earthquake. You even understand what that's like? To literally have to keep a lid on it at all times or risk sinking the damn Eastern Seaboard? Of course you don't, because it's absurd. These power? They aren't some kind of gift, meant to be used to help the innocent and safe lives. They're weapons of war, meant to be used on the enemy, and to obliterate anything in my path." He scoffed and spat onto the ground, "These days, they're just a constant reminder of what I am, of what I've done. And I'd like to do everything I can to forget that thanks."
"And what have you done that's so bad?" She asked, but Percy was done for real now. Just talking about it had brought up problems that he hadn't had to deal with in years.
"None of your business. Are we done here?" He asked, and his attitude and change in demeanor must have been telling, because she relented.
"We should call this in," She noted, idly gesturing to the bodies on the ground.
Percy sighed and nodded, "I'll deal with this," She gave him a strange look, "What? You got nothing better to do with your evening than to sit here with me waiting for the paddy-wagon?" As if on cue, someone must have called her, because she raised a finger to her ear,
"Copy that, I'm on my way," She said to the person on the other line.
She gave Percy one last meaningful look, before she turned and ran out of the garage. Shaking his head, Percy pulled his phone free of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1.
"This is detective Jackson, badge number one-seven-five, got some boys here who need a ride."
BREAK
Craig Thompson took a sip from his coffee. Of all the duties he hated to be assigned to, protection details were far and away the worst. More often than not, absolutely nothing happened, and they were stuck staying awake all night babysitting some schmuck. He had thought they had at least hit the jackpot when they were assigned to the pageant winner, but they hadn't seen hide nor hair of the woman since they started. He didn't know who he was more annoyed with, the guy they were supposed to be looking out for or the fucking detectives that had ordered the detail in the first place.
His unit was always getting stuck with doing the grunt work for the detectives. They were always the ones stuck dumpster diving, or pounding pavement, and every other stupid thing the detectives wanted. Not like it ever did any good, hell, the lead detectives who ordered the details didn't even know who they were supposed to be looking out for. Middle-age white guy, around six-feet tall and a buck eighty? With that description they were better looking at half the damn city.
He felt as something tapped him on the thigh, and Thompson looked over at his five-year partner, Deveon Williams, who was staring at a car driving up the road. Following his partner's gaze, Thompson watched from their unit, as the car slowed down and stopped on the road beside the apartment complex. The man couldn't see their unit, hidden as it was in the back of a parking lot, hidden in the shadows of a broken lamppost. Thompson and Williams both pulled binoculars up to their eyes, as they watched the car. They hadn't been told what the car the suspect would be driving; Thompson suspected it was because they didn't know what it was he was driving, but they did say that whatever he was driving was likely to be stolen.
Something stirred in his stomach, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was something fishy about this,
"Hey," He said in a soft-voice to his partner, "You got a look at that plate?" Williams took a second, before he nodded,
"Yeah, yeah I got it. Want to run it?"
"Yeah," Thompson said, booting up the computer on the dashboard, "Got a feeling about this one,"
"Got it," Williams said,
"Send it," Thompson ordered, and Williams read off the plate. With each letter or number, Thompson punched it into the computer. After the plate was in the system, it took a second before it came back with a result.
"Stolen," He said, sharing a look with his partner. "Keep an eye on him," He ordered, and Willaim's nodded. With his body suddenly humming with energy, Thompson reached out and grabbed the radio.
"Charlie-One-Seven-Six" He said into the mic,
"Charlie-One-Seven-Six go." Answered dispatch,
"Got a possible hit on suspect at protectee's location on 11th, requesting immediate additional units."
"Acknowledged," Dispatch replied after a moment of silence, "Additional units on their way to your location now."
"He's moving," Williams said, and Thompson swore and pulled his own lenses back to his face. He watched as a man, short of six feet and around one hundred and eighty pounds, stepped out of the car. He was dressed all in black, and Thompson couldn't get a good look at his face. Without having to say anything, Thompson and Williams both stepped out of the car and drew their weapons. The hurried across the darkened lot and into the dimly lit apartment complex.
They knew where the protectee's room was on the fourth floor. They climbed the stairs in a hurry, and Thompson whirled around the bannister on the fourth floor, with his weapon level. Scanning the hall, he could see it was empty. When Williams tapped him on the shoulder, they began creeping down towards their protectee's door, checking the numbers on the apartments as they went. When they reach 412, Thompson stopped and pointed, the door to the apartment was cracked open slightly, but it was still dark inside. Exchanging a look with Williams, Thompson pushed the door open and crept into the entry hallway. He could hear the sound of a struggle coming from a nearby room, and he abandoned all pretenses of subtlety and charged through the apartment. Finding the bedroom door was open, Thompson flicked on his flashlight pointed his weapon past the open window and over at the moving mass at the bed while shouting, "GCPD, hands where I can see them!"
The light from the flashlight illuminated a man in the bed. He was straddling the waist of the girl in the bed, whose features were obscured by a towel that seemed to be soaked in something. But that wasn't the most alarming thing about the man. It was the horrific cartoon-looking mask of a pig. It was smiling, in an oddly horrific way at them. He slowly raised his hands into the air,
"Grab the towel," Thompson ordered, "Get it off her face,"
He wrapped his hand around the towel, and lifted it off her face. Thompson was relieved to see her throat wobble slightly. Williams began inching forward toward the man, his hand steadily replacing his gun in his holster and retrieving a set of cuffs. When he was within only a foot of the man though, he threw the towel on Williams, who yelped in surprise. Thompson tried to get a shot off, but Williams' body was in the way of the shot. Thompson growled and tried to maneuver to get a good enough shot. The man was scrambling out of the window and Thompson opened fire. It clipped the man in the arm, and he screamed in pain, but didn't stop his forward momentum. He had already been halfway through the window when Thompson's shot connected. The momentum caused by the shot only served to expedite the man's escape, as he was sent careening through the open window.
There was a tremendous crash, followed by another yelp of pain, and then the sound of someone running. Thompson and Williams maneuvered through the darkened room and approached the window, their weapons drawn. But it was too late, by the time they reached the window and looked down, the man had already disappeared. Sighing in frustration, Thompson shared a look with Williams.
The detective's probably weren't going to be too thrilled with them.
AN: Things are getting interesting! A leap in progress in the case, and Dinah keeps Percy from slaughtering a bunch of wannabe thugs. If you were hoping to see Percy just wreck shop, don't worry. I got something planned down the road which showcases exactly what Percy can do, and powerful he is. Hope you're excited as we're starting to ramp up the intensity here!
Thanks as always for the love and support, you all have been awesome! If you've read and like this story, but haven't read any of my other works, you should check them out. They're fun and I like to think they're different enough to be a breath of fresh air for you.
Until same time next week, hope you have a wonderful start to the week, and stay safe and stay healthy.
Love,
LilDB
