Amelia’s grandfather, Marius Benedict, once headed The Physician Coalition, an elite group of doctors who threw the Hippocratic Oath out the window. Years ago, they used a low-risk medical research study as a front for their experiments. Without their consent, innocents were injected with JackRabbit7, a hazardous substance used to alter their DNA. The victims were left with less-than-desirable super-human powers or excruciating death. Years after he disbanded the group, Marius has a new plan and is reforming The Coalition.
Max, a mysterious stranger from the Insurance Agency, offers to help keep Amelia safe. He introduces The Agency as an underground government organization that contains and eliminates those who intend to harm the world. To protect The Agency, the truth of their activities are concealed and replaced with sugar-coated stories in the media.
Over the course of the next week, Amelia has to accept the truth and learn who can be trusted. At midnight on her 23rd birthday, a contract between The Coalition and The Insurance Agency will expire, giving Marius full rein to approach his granddaughter and finish the project he started with her so many years ago.
“I need three heart attacks on a stick and one diabetic coma,” I said, slamming a stack of orders on the counter underneath the heat lamp.
“Watch your checks. Lorenzo raised the prices again and he’ll dock your pay if they’re wrong,” Donovan murmured over my shoulder.
“You’re kidding me. He bumped them before the lunch shift today.” I crumpled the bill in front of me and jammed it in my apron pocket. “My customers are going to be pissed.”
“Are you surprised? It’s Lorenzo. He knows we’re the only restaurant open in town.”
“It has to be illegal.” I shook my head.
“He’s going to squeeze every penny out of these people that he can,” a stocky waiter muttered as he skated by with a platter of desserts.
I decided to let it go because there was nothing I could do about Lorenzo’s actions. Too easily, I envisioned dollar signs spinning in his beady black eyes and his greedy persuasion raping customer’s wallets. I scanned the room for my boss, but he was nowhere to be found.
“The old couple at table nine is giving you the death glare, Don.” I scribbled a new tab and cringed as three waitresses on roller skates maneuvered around me.”
“I know, but they’re going to have to wait.” He lined up a row of platters along his arm and then looked at me with pleading brown eyes accompanied by his crooked grin. “Sweet wonderful Amelia, I’m swamped right now. Would you please take those entrées to table nine for me?” He nodded toward a grouping of plates under the heat lamp.
Turning Donovan down when he needed help was like sneezing with my eyes open: impossible.
I looked down at the thick stack of orders in my hand and shoved them into my pocket; fully aware my customers would be less than pleased with the delay. “You owe me.”
“I know.” He beamed. “Have I ever told you that you’re my best friend?”
“Constantly.” I grabbed the plates and skated off into the dining room.