Some Were In Time

by Robyn Peterman

  "Not here," Dwayne told us. "The Dragons and the psycho Wolves know where we are. I will take her to another compound I own in Michigan while she's in Death Sleep."

  "How many compounds do you own?" I asked, even though it had nothing to do with what was important at the moment. Focusing on something mundane was going to save me from losing my mind.

  "Too many to count," he replied. "Real estate is a very good investment."

  Why didn't I know this? How many other secrets did Dwayne have?

  "The Cows?" Hank asked as we made our back to the mansion, avoiding the piles of dead that littered the grounds.

  "They will come with me. Granny will have blood lust when she rises. It's not safe for any human or Were to be around her for a while."

  "But the Cows can?" I asked, confused.

  "Ironically, yes," Dwayne said with a smile. "Their blood regenerates at a speed that is beyond very rare. They'll be able to feed her and their size is a bonus. If we have four of them with her at all times after she wakes they'll be able to calm and restrain her."

  "She'll be violent?" Hank asked as he banged at the locked doors on the back of the house.

  "For a bit," Dwayne answered truthfully. "Mostly just hungry. Once she gets a hold on the blood lust she'll be fine."

  The Cows greeted us with ashen tear-streaked faces. They also had robes for Hank and me. In all that had transpired, I'd completely forgotten we were naked after our shift back. I gratefully slid into my soft robe as Hank did his.

  "Is she dead?" Francis asked quietly. She rocked back and forth in sorrow and her sisters joined her.

  "Almost," Dwayne said as he lightly kissed his daughter's cheek. "I am going to turn her. You all will protect and feed her when she wakes."

  "We'll do it with pleasure," Pat insisted as she ran her huge hand sweetly over Granny's lacerated face. "We've fed newbie Vamps before."

  "A long, long time ago—going on eighty years now," Harley added. "But I enjoyed it. It tickled."

  "Granny had her some pretty big balls as a Wolf," Morgan said appreciatively. "She's gonna be one wild mofo when she goes undead."

  My stomach roiled a little at the thought and I prayed Granny wouldn't hate me when she realized what I had done. Of course there was the chance she would never know what I had done…

  "When will we know if she made it through?" I asked as I clasped her hand, not wanting to let go.

  "When she wakes," Dwayne said with a tension in his voice that sliced through me.

  "If she wakes," I added almost inaudibly.

  "Don't you worry your skinny little butt about nothin'," Harley consoled me. "Your granny is one tough nut and my daddy knows his shit. She's gonna be one fine undead bloodsucker slash wolf slash I have no idea what the tarnation she'll be."

  I nodded, unsure whether to laugh or cry and I decided to skip the skinny comment, considering the source. There were no guarantees, but without trying there would be no Granny.

  "Keep the burner phone," Hank instructed, referring to the phone we'd given the Cows earlier. "I have ten more in the glove box of the Hummer. The numbers are already set in your phone as speed dial two, three and four etcetera. If one doesn't work or if we aren't the ones to answer it, delete the number immediately and get rid of all other traceable electronics you have."

  "Junior is speed dial one?" Dwayne asked as he laid Granny on an ornate couch and covered her small body with a blanket.

  "He is," I said as I placed another kiss on her cheek.

  "Um… we already called him," Pat volunteered sheepishly. "It looked real damn bad out there and we wanted some backup for you."

  "Pretty sure he's on his way," Lee added with a shrug and a chuckle. "He has some salty language, that one."

  "I'll call him and tell him the new plan," Hank said as he glanced down at himself. "Can you get our clothes from the car?"

  "I'll do you one better," Dwayne said with an evil little smirk. "You two go upstairs and shower. I'll lay some outfits out for you."

  "Why does that unnerve me worse than fighting Dragons?" Hank asked sardonically as he grabbed my hand and led me to the grand staircase.

  "Because you are a very smart boy," I said with a laugh.

  ***

  We were clean, ready to leave, and unfortunately dressed in clothing that made me belly laugh and Hank groan in dismay. We'd be stopping at the first rest stop we came to. We had clothes in the car but Dwayne refused to retrieve them, innocently explaining he couldn't leave Granny alone in the house. He also insisted we take the Hummer. He had a fleet of cars in the underground garage of the house including several high tech vans. They would use those to transport Granny to Michigan in the next day or two. He did manage to say the word hummer at least twelve times before Hank threatened to remove his vocal chords.

  None of his staff had made it and Dwayne was heartbroken. The Cows were composing letters with information on the massive life insurance policies Dwayne had given all his employees. He knew it wouldn't bring them back, but he felt it was the very least he could do for their families.

  "You look fabu in gauchos, Hank," Dwayne complimented him with glee and a whistle.

  "You do realize I will get you back for this," Hank groused as he pulled at the tight sky blue starched wife beater that Dwayne had paired with a pair of black and white hounds tooth gauchos. Thankfully Hank's feet were too large for any of Dwayne's pumps, so he'd wedged his size thirteens into a pair of size seven red sequined flip-flops.

  Luckily my Vampyre had picked out a lovely strapless Stella McCartney sundress with wedge heels for me. I looked great and my man looked like a circus reject. However, I still wanted him with a vengeance.

  "Wait," I said as I glanced around the room. "Where is everyone?"

  The Great Room was empty. Pieces of glass from the mind meld were sprinkled around the massive space, but everything else was pristine.

  "In lockdown in the basement," Dwayne explained as he adjusted the waistline on Hank's gauchos. He stopped immediately when Hank clocked him in the head.

  "Hank, be nice," I said with a giggle as Dwayne staggered and fell to the couch with a thud.

  "Trust me, that was me being nice," Hank responded.

  "Why are they in lockdown?" I asked. I wanted to see Granny one more time before we left.

  "I've drained her and given her the first blood. It's no longer safe for you to be around her."

  I held my tongue as Dwayne covertly snapped a picture of Hank in his gaucho glory with a conveniently stashed camera.

  "How did she do?" Hank asked the question I was too scared to ask.

  "She did well," Dwayne replied cautiously as he sat on the camera. "It's a good sign, but we have a long way to go."

  "Little victories will work right now," I said. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome, doll. I promise to take good care of her and I'll keep you informed."

  I nodded, too afraid if I spoke I would cry.

  "Now about Chicago," Dwayne said briskly, changing the subject. "I have a home under one of my aliases in Lincolnshire. It's not traceable and you will use that. I forbid you to go back to your apartments—too dangerous."

  "Outstanding." Hank nodded with approval.

  Dwayne handed us an address and keys. He also handed us our fully reloaded and cleaned guns along with all the unused squirt guns.

  "Memorize it and then eat the paper," Dwayne advised.

  "Dude, I am not eating paper," I said as I quickly committed the address to memory.

  "Fine," Dwayne said with a sniff. "The Cows will eat it. It's good fiber."

  "You're going to need a few parenting books." God only knew what he was going to feed his new daughters since he didn't eat.

  "Dwayne does not need any help," he said with a grin. "Most of what I do will send them to therapy anyway. I do not need a human book to help me with that."

  "Point," I caved and laughed. "How did you do all this while we showered?" I asked as I strapped th
e squeaky clean weapons to my body.

  "My girls did it," he answered proudly. "They're also bathing Granny and doing her hair. They kicked me out because I'm a man. I tried to explain that I'm gay and swore I wouldn't be ogling Granny's lady bits, but they were having none of it."

  I couldn't love those Cows anymore if I tried. The Universe was working in bizarre ways and I decided to embrace it willingly.

  "When she wakes," I said, refusing to add an if. "You need to find out why she didn't shift and defend herself. There's something missing here and we need to know what happened."

  "I will," Dwayne assured me. "But she might not remember everything. It can be hazy for a bit."

  "Will she know me?" The bile rose in my throat at the thought that Granny might not recognize me.

  "She should," he said as he gave me a quick hug. "Most likely her brain will block the trauma that led to her death. I won't know until she wakes."

  The need to move consumed me. Scenarios ran wildly through my head—good, bad and ugly. I dislodged myself from Dwayne's embrace and jogged around the perimeter of the large room. Moving and planning would keep me sane. Jumping Hank and making him see Jesus would help, but I didn't think Dwayne would appreciate it. Or possibly he might appreciate it too much. Hank and Dwayne's eyes followed me with concern. I knew they were worried I was close to losing it. Their concern was well warranted. Lists. I needed to make mental lists.

  "We will go to Chicago and settle in at Dwayne's house. We'll contact Angela and her Dragon and arrange to meet them on neutral territory. If she had anything to do with this ambush I will kill her. And Hank, I will kill her. I want no help. Moral support will be welcome, but if she ratted us out she's mine."

  "I'm good with that," Hank said with a curt nod and a feral grin.

  "Holy Phyllis Diller," Dwayne sang as his skin took on a slight glow. "I'd really like to see that."

  "Trust me," I told him with a smile that came nowhere near reaching my eyes. "You wouldn't. Now about the mess here… "

  "No worries," Dwayne assured us. "Before we leave I'll alert the local Hyena Pack. Place will be spotless in an hour or less. Those bastards will eat anything."

  "Um… I got nothing," I choked out. I had to close my eyes against the picture now resting in my brain.

  "On that unappetizing note," Hank said with a barely concealed gag, "we're out."

  "Wait," I yelled, alarming both men. "I need to lay out the plan a little more."

  "Do it, babe," Dwayne said as he patted my back. "Get organized. It will calm you."

  Hank nodded and sat back down. My men knew me well and I was humbled at how much my need to hang on to my sanity meant to them. Or more likely, my prior breakdowns had taught them a healthy fear for their lives.

  "The Dragons are our first priority. They will lead us to the leak. I need to know the connection between them and the Wolves. Finding out who cursed the Wolves has to go at the bottom of the to-do list, but that's something I want to know too. The Council needs to be aware of rogue Wolf Packs running around."

  "The Council stays in the dark until we have all the information we need to get out alive," Hank stated firmly.

  I knew he was referring to the fact some on the Council wanted me dead. Agreeing with him was a no-brainer. The Council would be the last to know anything we found out. Any intel we compiled would be used as bargaining chips for my life and for information as to what really happened to my parents.

  "Absolutely," I concurred with Hank. "I think the Wolves figure in more than we realize."

  "You think they're involved with the crossbreeding of species?" Dwayne asked as he mulled the prospect over.

  "No," I answered thoughtfully. "I don't. I'm not even sure the Dragons are pushing the cross species thing. It might have been an isolated incident with the three imbeciles that came to Georgia. They're wildly secretive and I'd place a bet they were trying to raise their own status in the Dragon world."

  "How much?" Dwayne asked as he pulled his wallet from his pants.

  "You'd bet against me?" I gaped at him.

  "Wait, I just heard the word bet and got excited. What are we actually wagering on?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Angela thinks some of the Council may be in cahoots with the Dragons. My guess is the crossbreeding debacle was a cover for something much bigger," I said, finally beginning to calm.

  "Don't discount the fracture in the Council about revealing the Wolves to the humans," Hank added with an expression that looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

  "All super natural species?" Dwayne asked with a bewildered shake of his head.

  "Nope," I said. "As far as I know the Wolves would be the only reveal."

  "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Dwayne yelled. He shoved his wallet back in his pants so violently he accidently ripped the pocket right off. "Dang it, I loved these capris."

  "Without the pocket I can see the shape of your ass better," I said, hoping to derail the fit I knew he was about to throw.

  "Really?" he asked as he looked over his shoulder and examined his rear end. "I think you're right. Maybe I'll take the pockets off of all my pants."

  "You do that," Hank said with an exasperated sigh. "We need to go, Essie. You ready?"

  "Nope, but I'm coming anyway," I said with a grin.

  "That's my girl." Hank grabbed my hand and gave Dwayne one more slap to the head.

  "What the hell was that for?" Dwayne griped as he tried to swat Hank back.

  "The gauchos and the photograph, asshole," Hank said with a smirk as he successfully avoided Dwayne's counterattack.

  "We're out of here." I pulled Hank to the front door before one of them lost a limb. We simply did not have the time to regrow anything. "Call me every few hours about Granny and let me know how she's doing."

  "Will do, doll."

  "Do you need extra protection in Michigan?" Hank asked as he paused at the door. "I can send some of the Pack from Georgia for reinforcements."

  "Got it covered," Dwayne mumbled and began to frantically straighten the pillows on the couch.

  Crapcrapcrap. Dwayne only straightened things when Armageddon was approaching.

  "Spill it," I said as I marched back over to him.

  "Fine. I called a few Vamps to help guard the compound in Michigan. Too dangerous for anything but dead people and Cows to be around for a while."

  "I thought you told me Vampyre get-togethers end in decapitation?"

  "Occasionally," he hedged. "However, I made some deals."

  "They owe you?" Hank asked.

  "Um… not exactly. I kind of sort of might owe them now."

  The story just kept getting worse…

  "We. We owe them now," I stated firmly.

  "Sweet Jessica Simpson on a skinny-ish day, I will not allow you to owe a Vampyre anything. Ever," Dwayne said so loudly even he winced.

  Hank's sharp intake of breath and audible groan shook my confidence a little, but the was no freakin' way in hell Dwayne was going to bear the brunt of the consequences for taking care of my granny.

  "I'm serious," I said loudly. Loud was good. Loud sounded confident—or certifiable. I was going with confident. "How bad can it be?"

  "Um…" Dwayne started.

  "Stop," I shouted and slapped my hand over his mouth. "I don't want to know. I feel it would be better if I use avoidance on this one until it's in my face. We clear?"

  "Yep," Dwayne said with wide eyes and a small scream.

  "Alright, Hank, don't say anything and don't look at me for five minutes until I'm past imagining what owing a Vampyre a favor means. You got that, big guy?"

  Hank inhaled deeply and blew the air out of his mouth. He held onto his anger by a thread. It made my brain run wild with thoughts of being chained to a coffin in a dank basement for a decade and performing blood slave duties for a pale-skinned, stinky Vamp with long fingernails, putrid breath and a weird bun head. I really needed to stop watching TV.

  Hank nodded
curtly and picked up the camera Dwayne had hidden on the couch and crushed it. Dwayne's shriek of dismay made me grin and forget for a moment that I might be beholden to a Vampyre who wasn't my beautiful, gay best friend.

  Thank god for senseless destruction of property… it really did take your mind off of your problems.

  "Well, have a good time and don't die," Dwayne said in a cheery voice as he snapped another shot of Hank with a second camera and hustled us out of the front door.