Final Hour of the Hunter Book Three in The Midnight Hunter Trilogy

By Bonnie Bernard

It’s been two glorious years since the Underworld unleashed its nightmares on Donna Deangelo. Happily married, raising a beautiful daughter, and enjoying time with her best friend Mo, Donna is finally living the life she’s always dreamed of - free from soul-stealing, kidnapping, and murder. That all changes when Donna, on her way to the store for ground beef and spaghetti noodles, crashes her Mustang straight into the Underworld’s most dangerous and vengeful deity. And far from desiring an apology, this merciless goddess expects blood. Now dinner’s on the back burner, the planet’s on a collision course with Chaos, and the only way out is down.

Final Hour of the Hunter is book three in the Midnight Hunter trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bonnie Bernard
• Release date: Dec 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9780983827252

Bonnie Bernard

I'm the proud birth-giver to The Midnight Hunter Trilogy - a paranormal, suspense-thriller that features a dash of romance, a sprinkle of mystery, an occasional murder, and a full, fun cast of Underworld characters. Some of them are kind, others are wicked - but all of them will tug at your heartstrings. The Midnight Hunter Trilogy is published by Fin-S Press and is available in softcover and most ereader-device forms.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Ever since the Underworld Prophecy was fulfilled by her daughter two years earlier, not a single menacing force had taunted Donna or her friends. In fact, life was better than ever and Donna was living her dream of a normal life…well, almost. She stayed busy raising Lucinda and doing everyday tasks like getting the Mustang’s oil changed and the Ferrari’s tires rotated. Plus, she ran errands to places like Home Depot, where her vampire roommates couldn’t go during daylight hours. She also liked gardening and sitting outside on sunny afternoons, sketching. She’d gone to the animal shelter and found a family dog; a knee-high, brown and white mutt who Lucinda named Ozzy. And Donna still took time to hang out with her best friend, Mo Longhurst, formerly Mo Bently.

Donna’s fingernails had even grown long enough that she’d started treating herself to monthly manicures, and despite her former self-consciousness about exposing her goddess toes for public viewing, she’d been indulging in pedicures, too. She had finally decided to be proud of her feet – with the second toe on each foot just a little longer than the first.

Toes like yours means a goddess watches over you, Donna’s grandmother had once said.

Grandma McCormick had also predicted Donna would meet an Underworld man, which of course, she had. And Grandma insisted Donna had a special destiny, something Donna figured she’d already fulfilled by being Lucinda’s mother, since Lucinda had sent the corrupt Vampire Lord, Michael, to his Ultimate Death. That meant Mom had been wrong when she’d insisted Grandma McCormick was just a ranting, crazy, old woman with a loose grip on reality.

And so it had been; the wicked Lords were gone, and in their place- two blissful years and not one Underworld kidnapping, soul-stealing, or death threat. The best part of all was how Hunter had changed. Since the Underworld settled down, he’d been a devoted dad to Lucinda, a good care-taker to his adopted little sister, Samee, and the ideal husband Donna had dreamed he’d be. Even after two years of marriage, Hunter still scooped up Donna in his strong arms and carried her to the silk-sheeted bed for evenings of passion and romance, which made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

But at his core, Hunter was still a master of Strategy and Military Might, and at the first sign of Underworld unrest, Donna’s doting husband would transform into the Warrior he really was. That was why the strange visit from the woman named Ursula had to be a hallucination, not an Underworld message. Donna took another deep breath, counted to fifty, and when her heartbeat settled, she pulled the car back into traffic and drove to the Food Savings Center for spaghetti noodles and ground beef. But when Donna got there, she sat in the car, lost in thought. With perspiration beading the back of her neck, she picked up her phone and logged into the Organization’s Underworld Database. She keyed in Ursula then picked absent-mindedly at her pinkie nail until the engine churned back.

Ursula – Underworld Goddess of Chaos. Notable for her shocking-white hair, unusual almond-colored eyes, and pale skin. Usually seen with her hellhounds. Ursula’s appearance portends an end to Worldy and Underworldly stability. When she appears on the earthly plane, it is a dire warning of turmoil to come. She is ineffective in the face of Order, but all-powerful wherever conflict and instability reins. Most comfortable in areas of civil unrest, Ursula has shown great influence during times of war and famine. She chooses her audience based on need. If the goddess of Chaos pays you a visit – beware. She always has a request, and denying it is perilous.

Donna slammed down the phone. Damn it.

But she didn’t have a request for me. So what should I do now?

Donna knew what she shouldn’t do; ask Hunter.

The fact that he never told me about this horrid woman is typical of him wanting to protect me from her. If I tell him about the incident, he may never let me leave the house again.

Donna drummed her fingers on the dashboard and squinted at the sunlight. If she told Dante, he’d tell Hunter. That’s how Dante was. He felt such a kinship toward the Warrior who had Turned him that he told Hunter everything. He’d even mentioned Donna’s pregnancy before she’d had a chance to do it. So Dante was out. And if she told Trent, he’d do the same thing as Dante, though for different reasons. While Dante felt compelled out of duty, Trent simply wouldn’t want to take the brunt of Hunter’s hostility if he learned Donna had shared a secret like this and Trent had not immediately come to Hunter with the details of it.

Donna rubbed her temples and closed her eyes.

Who can I tell that doesn’t feel obliged to Hunter?

Oh yeah… she mumbled then punched in the number. He answered on the fourth ring.

What do you want, virginal human?

Hi to you too, Howie.

I don’t have time for stupid human pleasantries. What do you want?

I want to know what it means that the goddess of Chaos just made an appearance in my life.

It means you’re screwed.

Care to elaborate? Donna picked at her perfectly shaped pinkie nail.

No.

Fine. Thanks for nothing. She hung up, grabbed her bag, and opened the Mustang’s door jut as the phone rang.

What now, Howie?

Carry a hematite. Ursula won’t be able to touch you.

Does the Prophecy say that?

No. I do. Then Howie hung up again before Donna got to ask what in the hell a hematite was. She sighed, sat back in the car and scanned the website for hematite.

Hematite – A stone that’s particularly effective for psychic and physical protection. Neutralizes negative forces and works well as a self-protective shield.

Donna thought about calling Howie back and asking him where in this hick town she could find a stone like that, but she knew what his answer would be.

Figure it out on your own, stupid human.

So Donna sat in her car, picking her fingernails and considering her options. A few minutes later, she shut the Mustang’s door and drove across town to Magickal Mysteries, West Windington’s only metaphysical store. If any shop nearby had hematite, that place would.

The display window at Magickal Mysteries featured iridescent beaded curtains, a wizard statue, Tibetan prayer flags, and a huge, tie-dyed tapestry. A sign on the door read, 50% off herbs and candles and a bell clanked against the door frame when Donna stepped inside. The mixed scents of incense blends drifted to her nose, and from the back, somebody called out.

Hello, kiddo, the female voice said in a slow, sweet tone that made Donna think of molasses. When her eyes adjusted, she followed the voice to its source - the shopkeeper who sat behind a table, smiling. Her cheeks were round and so were her shoulders. Lovely day out, isn’t it? the woman said. Nice and sunny.

Donna smiled back, and agreed. It wasn’t often the people in her life complimented sunny days. She approached the table and got a closer look at the large, gray-haired woman with the ruddy face and heavy eyelids, wearing a long, black dress and a witch’s hat. The table she sat behind was stacked with tarot card decks, crystal balls, and an assortment of magic wands. The heady aroma of leftover food clung to the air back there.

I wonder if she had Eye of Newt soup for lunch.

The woman’s eyes narrowed and she thoughtfully rubbed her hands together. Hmmmm, she said slowly. You just came from Home Depot.

Donna’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. How do you know-?

I know a lot of magical things. The woman winked then she chuckled. Plus, the receipt’s hanging out of your bag, kiddo. She shifted in her chair and furrowed her brow over her reading glasses. My name’s Esmeralda, and I own, run, and keep this place. Well, when I’m not busy keeping the devil off my tail. She chuckled again. It was thick and slow-moving, just like the rest of her. What can I help you with today, kiddo?

I need a hematite.

For grounding, eh?

Um, okay.

Esmeralda narrowed her eyes at Donna again. Hematite, you say. Are you sure about that?

Donna nodded vigorously. I think so. Why? Is there something wrong with it?

Esmeralda slowly shook her head. There’s not a thing wrong with it, kiddo. The hematite’s on the left, behind that rack of candle-holders. She pointed with a sausage-shaped finger. There’s baskets full of rocks you’ll see there. The hematite’s marked, but in case you miss it, it’s the silver one. Looks like chrome.

Thanks. Donna smiled mildly and stepped over to where Esmeralda had directed and read the display signs. Quartz crystal, peridot, jade. Hematite.

Find it, kiddo?

Yeah, Donna answered. You’re right. It does look like chrome.

Go ahead and pick up a few. See if one feels warmer or somehow seems significant. If it does, that’s the one meant for you.

Donna put her finger on a stone. It felt…like stone. She turned to Esmeralda. And if none of them seem significant?

Then just grab one, Esmeralda hollered. It doesn’t make much difference sometimes. But other times it does.

Donna turned her attention back to the basket of hematite and rummaged through the selection. One started to glow and pulse with white, shimmery light. She picked it up. It felt warm in her grasp. I think I found the one that’s meant for me.

See? Esmeralda sang from the back. Sometimes it makes a difference, especially when your aura is craving a way to protect itself.

Aura?

Your energy field, kiddo.

Donna considered it. I think I’ll get one for my daughter’s energy field, too. She craves all sorts of strange things.

Ah, Esmeralda’s tone was cautious. Be careful using the hematite around very young ones. It’s often too powerful for their little auras.

How young is very young?

Esmeralda eyed Donna critically. Any child of yours is too young, unless you bore the creature when you were still in diapers. She chuckled again.

Donna smiled politely. Maybe I’ll get one for my niece Lucinda, instead. She’s ten. Is that old enough? Lying about Lucinda’s biological age was easier than explaining it. And maybe I should get one for my best friend, Mo. Two stones glowed with the mention of each name. Donna scooped them up then headed to the check-out counter, where Esmeralda lowered her glasses and examined Donna closely.

You were told to buy these stones, weren’t you?

Donna nodded.

Esmeralda punched numbers into the cash register. That means you know nothing about them. 4.98.

She handed over a five. I know they were recommended by somebody who knows how to survive, despite terrible odds.

Did this survivor warn you about the power of the stone?

Donna shrugged. He’s not much of a warner-type.

Esmeralda offered two cents change, which Donna dropped in the Have a Penny? cup. Then Esmeralda leaned back in her chair and groaned. Her chair groaned, too.

Care must be taken when relying on the power of hematite, she cautioned. It holds evil at bay by divine intervention.

Donna’s eyes twinkled. I’ve had some practice with that.

With which one, kiddo?

Both.

Esmeralda examined her critically. An ounce of care is worth a pound of regret. She handed Donna a sack with the hematite stones in it.

Thanks. Donna turned toward the door and pulled it open. Howie’s going to be happy I listened to him. Well, as happy as Howie ever is.

Esmeralda gasped. Howie Evil?

Donna stopped in her tracks and turned. You know him?

I know never to cross him. I hope you do too, kiddo.

Donna giggled. I’ve crossed him more times than I can count.

Then it’s your lucky stars keeping you alive.

And a little divine intervention, Donna added as a pair of teen girls pushed past her to enter the store.

Hi kiddos, Esmeralda said as the door shut behind Donna.

She knows who Howie is, but I bet she doesn’t know what he is.

Next door to Magickal Mysteries was Firestone Firearms, which was the only place in West Windington to buy weapons - at least if you wanted to do it during normal, business hours. Howie’s Gun Shop had kept weird hours for so long that most mortals had given up on it in favor of Firestone’s, even though, thanks to Trent, Howie’s shop was open most days now. A cute, blond guy stepped out from the store and leaned against the door jamb as Donna passed by. Her tummy tingled and she wondered if he’d remember her, even though it had been two years since she’d set foot in Firestone’s. Sweat beaded against her back as she glanced across the street, at the bank and the old clock tower. Anywhere but at him.

Hi, he said.

Oh, hi. Donna tried to sound surprised.

Sorry, did I scare you?

She smiled. Not really. I just didn’t see you. I was busy looking – over there, at those flowers. They’re my favorite. The red ones.

The petunias?

Donna couldn’t imagine Howie knowing any flower by name, even if somebody slapped him upside the head with one.

Uh, yeah, she replied. Petunias are my favorite.

He lifted an eyebrow and smiled crookedly, just like Hunter did. I’m Kyle. He held out his hand for her to shake.

So he doesn’t remember me.

Donna grinned, not sure how she felt about the fact that he didn’t remember her. It was for the best of course, but I remember him.

Nice to meet you, Kyle, she took his hand.

Kyle tilted his head at her. Do you know anything about firearms?

I know a little bit. Donna looked away so he wouldn’t catch her smirk.

Next question. Do you need a job? He pointed to a Help Wanted sign in the window.

No, Donna chuckled and wanted to kick herself for blushing. My husband and I are self-employed. Besides, he doesn’t think guns are my strong suit. Swords and knives…now that’s a different matter.

Husband, huh? Kyle’s gazed dropped. What are you and your husband self-employed at?

We investigate…things.

His eyes widened with excitement. You’re private investigators?

Sure, why not? She nodded.

Do you search out cheating spouses?

Don’t make it sound so glamorous, Donna giggled, then caught herself and stopped. It’s sort of depressing, actually.

Kyle’s eyes narrowed and a slow grin crossed his face. You sound like a hopeless romantic. He indicated toward Magickal Mysteries. You into that woo-woo stuff?

Donna smirked. Only when I’m told to be.

Your husband doesn’t want you to handle guns and somebody else tells you where to do your shopping. What about what you want?

Donna smiled politely. Thanks for the job offer, Kyle. I better go.

Okay, Kyle nodded. But if you change your mind… He pointed to the Help Wanted sign again.

Donna smiled and shook her head. You’re quite persuasive, but I’ll never change my mind.

Never say never, he grinned crookedly as she turned away and almost skipped back to her Mustang, almost forgetting why she’d been in Magickal Mysteries in the first place.

That hematite sure worked fast.

chapter two

Two years earlier, Donna was a far cry from hardware store errands and manicured nails. The Demon and Vampire Lords were in control of Lucinda’s soul…and the Underworld’s future. But one fateful day, two years ago exactly, the Demon and Vampire Lords were killed, and Lucinda’s soul was restored. On that same day, Dante bit Howie Evil on the neck, Turning him…sort of. Only Howie’s human side was affected by the vampire bite, his demon side remained stubbornly intact. There’s a saying in the vampire kingdom; You are what you were before the Turn, only better at it. Nobody had a clue what better might be like in a 4000 year old, temperamental, armed and dangerous half demon, but they all got an introduction when the first thing Howie did after awakening from the Turn was unload his 9 mm into the bedroom wall. The second thing he did was storm over to Hunter and point the empty gun at him.

Warrior, I’m so goddamned close to piercing your wretched, undead heart for fathering the brat whose fight for her soul wrecked my life. Then he pointed the gun at Dante. You call yourself a Healer, but your little nibble on my neck wrecked my already miserable life. Howie then grabbed his Eternal Partner, Cassandra Amanda Polyandra, dragged her outside and down the driveway to his 1970 Bronco, Matilda Jane. Dante followed them into the early morning darkness and tried to wrestle Howie’s grip on Cassie, but she pushed Dante away.

He’s my Eternal Problem, she snapped. I’ll deal with it.

Dante stepped back, because as much as it pained him to admit, this is how it goes with Eternal Partnerships. Once you’d fallen into one, there’s no sense in trying to fight your way out.

Matilda Jane’s tires were slashed from a minion attack, but Howie didn’t care. He ordered Cassie to get in the passenger seat then slammed the door on his own side and drove off so quickly that Donna barely had time to push Cassie’s attack cat, Thrasher, through the passenger window and onto Cassie’s lap. Then they were gone.

One thing about that day had never made sense to Donna; she’d mothered the so-called brat who wrecked Howie’s already miserable life and she’d also betrayed Howie’s half-human status, albeit accidentally. But that betrayal had led to Michael, The Vampire Lord, blasting Howie’s chest wide open with a Colt .45, which made it so Dante had no choice but to Turn him.

So why didn’t the cranky bastard threaten to kill me?

It was three nights after Howie’s Turn before his gun shop reopened for business. Allegra and Josepe Giovanni, owners of Carlitto’s, the Italian restaurant next door, were the first customers to encounter Howie Evil in his new manifestation.

Good evening, Mister Howie, Mr. Giovanni approached the sales counter and said in his typical, jocular tone. It’s nice to see you open for business again. We missed you.

Si, we did. Mrs. Giovanni added. And we are here for sunscreen pills, Mister Howie.

Instead of offering sunscreen pills, Howie threw a handful of ammunition at the Giovannis and carried on with such rage that Mrs. Giovanni burst into tears. Then the couple tried to scurry away, but Howie blocked the door and locked it. Mrs. Giovanni screamed for help and Mr. Giovanni begged mercy for their undead, soulless lives. Cassie heard the commotion and hurried out front, where she found Howie looming over the old vampires, flashing a handmade stake and promising to impale their wretched, hopeless hearts.

Asshole demon, Cassie put her hands on her hips, What in the hell are you doing?

Trying to get some peace and quiet in my own damned shop, impossible human.

Cassie grabbed Howie’s thick forearm and pulled him back to his apartment behind the gun shop. The Giovannis heard fierce words and objects being flung against walls. A few moments later, Cassie returned wearing a sour expression.

Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. and Mrs. G, she said in a forced friendly tone. You’d like sunscreen pills, correct?

Si, Mr. Giovanni nodded furiously. One dozen pills, if it’s not too much trouble. Then we’d like to leave, please. Mister Howie locked us in.

Mrs. Giovanni wiped away tears. We don’t mean to be a bother, but my mister needs to attend a daylight function, which will require many pills.

It’s no bother. Cassie fished out a dozen sunscreen pills from Howie’s stash behind the counter and put them in a plastic sack. She even threw in a few extra, for their trouble, then unlocked the door and sent the corpulent couple on their way. She turned the shop sign to Closed, locked the door, shut off the lights and headed toward Howie’s apartment. Before she got there, he tackled her in the hallway.

Take off your clothes, he growled in her ear.

Take a flying fuck.

Flying, standing, doggy-style, even missionary’s okay - I’m not picky.

Howie, you’re an ass. You made Mrs. Giovanni cry.

He scoffed. I make everybody cry. I’m a demon.

You’re a despicable bastard.

I’m also a horny one. So shut up and do me.

Cassie wanted to tell him no, but as she later told Donna, ‘Shut up and do me’ were the nicest words Howie had uttered since the Turn. So I did.

The next morning, while Howie slept off his bad mood and good sex, Cassie taped a sign on the gun shop door that read, Closed Until Further Notice (When The Owner Pulls His Head Out Of His Ass.) She scooped up her cat and her copy of the Underworld Prophecy and went home to her apartment on the top floor of the old monastery. Then she called Donna.

I will not babysit his store, she declared. And I don’t need a grumpy bastard with a wrecked life wrecking mine, too. So I left and I’m never going back.

Donna suspected it wasn’t just Howie’s bad mood that had sent Cassie packing. Cassie’s intimacy with him made her soul vulnerable, since it was during moments of closeness that Howie could most easily steal it from her. Demons were notorious soul-stealers, but before the Turn, Howie’s demon-half had been tempered by his human-half.

Donna tried to ease Cassie’s concerns. Just because Howie’s lost his mortal half, it doesn’t mean he’s lost the humanity of it. Besides, he’s your Eternal Partner. He wants all of you, not just your soul.

It’s a stupid Eternal Match, Cassie snapped. I don’t know what the gods were thinking, pairing that cantankerous asshole with somebody like me. We’re like fire and gasoline in a fireworks factory.

So you just left him all alone in his apartment?

Howie’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.

But he just suffered a Turn, Cassie.

I know, Cassie sighed. That’s why I snuggled a half dozen of his favorite stakes and guns in bed with him and left Bartholomew’s sapphire-resistant sunglasses in the drawer by his bed stand.

Two weeks after that phone call, Cassie called again. This time, it was to invite Donna to lunch at a tiny, Ethiopian restaurant fifty miles away from West Windington.

Why can’t we just meet at Barker’s Burgers? Donna asked.

Just meet me at the Ethiopian place, Cassie replied. Alone.

Donna knew Cassie was a food elitist, but to drive so far for a simple meal just seemed ridiculous. At least that’s what Donna thought until she saw Cassie, already seated at a table with her hand around a glass of something that looked like a milkshake.

Well, Donna’s tone was surprised. This is certainly unexpected.

Imagine how I feel, Cassie sipped her milkshake. Then she placed her order without looking at the menu, and helped Donna select a meal, since Donna could barely understand the drink list, let alone decipher the food options. She also explained that the milkshake was called a lasshi and it was made from yogurt and anise seed. Donna thought that sounded pretty good so she ordered her own, and she also ordered an apricot iced tea, in case the lasshi didn’t taste as good as it sounded.

When the waiter left, Cassie turned to Donna. I probably don’t need to tell you this, but if you utter one word about today, I’ll choke the life out of you.

Cassie was sometimes what Howie called an impossible bitch, so Donna nodded. I won’t say anything. But what are you going to do about…it?

Cassie swirled her lasshi straw and shrugged. I don’t know, but I didn’t ask you here to discuss my personal problems. We could have Underworld ones, too.

Donna groaned. Could?

I might be making too much of things, and it’s not like I want to blab this to the whole Underworld. Look what happened the last time I publicly aired my suspicions. I got kidnapped, beat up, raped, and almost murdered.

But you also met Howie.

Lucky me. Cassie rolled her eyes. I don’t want to overreact this time, but I need to tell somebody what I found.

Somebody? Donna said with apprehension. Why is it that whenever a person has a secret, they have to share it with me?

Somebody reasonable, which in our world is a very short list. Cassie sucked on her lasshi straw before continuing. I’ve been stringing together the last words in the Prophecy. I think an unsettling, new pattern is emerging.

The Prophecy was a very old Underworld book that had been bestowed upon a pair of vampire-shepherds by the Underworld gods. Some said Froederick and Raoul were purposely keeping pieces of its Truth to themselves and others were convinced the two were simply bumbling fools. Donna suspected it was a little of both, but no matter the reason, some parts of the Prophecy remained unclear. That’s where Cassie came in. As a mere mortal human, she had managed to untangle what the vampire-shepherds couldn’t – or wouldn’t; the last word in every sentence. Doing that had saved Lucinda’s soul and ended the threat of demonic tyranny, which was why Donna had driven fifty miles to have lunch with Cassie even though she would’ve rather just had a burger at Barker’s.

I’m not entirely sure how this new pattern is emerging, Cassie admitted. Right now, it’s a shit-splatter of alphabet soup. But something is definitely floating to the surface.

Their waiter brought Donna’s drinks. She thanked him and then sipped her lasshi. The blend of cold and tangy tingled against her tongue.

Yum, she exclaimed. You were right, this is good.

I’m always right about food, Cassie brushed aside the remark. Now, back to the pattern. If I’m reading it right, and I think I am, it’s somewhat distressing.

Distressing?

Cassie clumsily pushed on her reading glasses; the ones Howie said made her look like an old-fashioned schoolteacher. After I translate it into English, the essence is: ‘There will be a Great Battle in which the mortals will find themselves at the mercy of Media’. Cassie stopped and looked over the glasses to her lunch partner.

Is that all? Donna asked hopefully. That battle’s been going on for years. It’s called The Great American Pastime.

Cassie chuckled. You sound just like Mo. But the next sentence is this: ‘Chaos will Battle with Order and the winner decides the fate of the triplets’.

Triplets? Donna raised her eyebrow.

I have no idea. Cassie shrugged. But it also says: The Battle will begin within the decade after the first decade of the twenty-first millennium.

Why can’t these predictions just say what they mean? Donna rubbed her temples while trying to do the math in her head.

Any time now.

Donna scanned the room and smiled in relief when she saw the waiter. Oh look. Here comes our lunch.

Here we go, ladies. The waiter sauntered up and set several plates of piping hot food on the table.

The smell reminds me of India, Donna said after he left.

Close, Cassie picked up her fork. That spice you smell is berbere, and it’s a favorite in Ethiopia.

I also smell garlic, Donna giggled. Good thing Trent’s not here.

Much to Donna’s delight, she and Cassie enjoyed their meal while effectively steering around Underworld topics. They talked about things Cassie found fascinating: a UFO sighting in Chile, the upcoming state elections, and Thrasher’s favorite litter brand. They also shared platefuls of food that were utterly mysterious to Donna. Stuff like injera, a tasty flatbread, and dishes with names like Queen of Sheba Salad, and Doro Wat, which Cassie explained was the Ethiopian version of chicken stew.

This Queen of Sheba is the only salad I’ve ever eaten with ketchup in it, Donna grinned and took another