Some Were In Time

by Robyn Peterman

  "You take care of Granny," I said as I hugged him tight.

  "With my life," Dwayne promised and kissed my cheek. "With my life."

  Chapter 13

  "I need to do something life affirming," I said as I searched for a song on the radio I could deal with. Meditating was out. I couldn't find my center in a moving vehicle. "Do you want a blow job?"

  "Oh my god, Essie," Hank groaned with a pained laugh. "You have just made a long drive much longer." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and gripped the steering wheel like it was going to fly away.

  "Does that mean no?"

  "Yes."

  "Wait," I said as I settled on a top forty station that would make Dwayne proud. "I'm confused. You do want a blow job or you don't?"

  "I always want a blow job," he said tightly. "I just don't want a life endangering blow job."

  "Are you saying that because I'm so good at blow jobs or because any blow job would make you wreck the Hummer? Pun completely and totally intended."

  "The only person I want a blow job from is you," he said as he tried to readjust his now tight pants.

  "Because I'm so awesome at them?"

  After a brief pause and a chuckle he said, "Yes. Yes, you are."

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  "How about a hand job?" I tried again.

  His grunt of agony was music to my ears.

  "How about we wait until we get to Chicago and go for broke?" he suggested with a sexy half-smirk that melted my panties.

  "Works for me."

  "And I just want to thank you for still being attracted to me in gauchos," he added with a shudder.

  "Hank, I would be attracted to you in a strapless beaded gown and a boa. You're all kinds of hot and all kinds of mine no matter what you're wearing."

  "Back at ya, baby."

  Indiana was flat and kind of mind-numbing. However, the miles of windmills kept me busy as I tried to count them, much to Hank's amusement. The outskirts of Chicago were industrial and stinky. We bypassed the city, got on 94, and arrived in Lincolnshire just as the sun was setting. Apparently Dwayne kept this particular abode because there was an in-the-round dinner theater he enjoyed performing at. The thought was alarming and yet also strangely comforting. His biggest credit was playing the king in The King and I. I'd lay money it was due to the fact he was bald and hotter than Hades, because his voice was more suited to Lady Gaga than Rogers and Hammerstein. Plus most Vamps preferred big cities and he was relatively safe from friendly decapitation in the ‘burbs.

  "I say we call Angela and her Dragon in the morning," Hank said as he pulled the Hummer into the garage.

  It was a four-car garage and Dwayne had a hot little silver-blue Mustang that had my name on it. I prayed the keys were in the house.

  "Sounds like a plan," I agreed. "What do you want to do now?"

  "Hmmm, I suppose we could think of something if we tried hard enough," he said with a sexy lopsided smile.

  "Pun intended?" I asked suggestively.

  "One hundred percent."

  ***

  "Oh my god," I hissed. "Do that again."

  Round three of going for broke was going to turn either my mind or my legs to mush. Honestly, I didn't care. I was having way too much fun losing all my brain cells as I rode Hank like I was at a rodeo.

  "Bend over the couch and pull up your dress," Hank ordered as he steered me toward the leather couch facing the fireplace.

  Dwayne's house in Lincolnshire was far more modest than his mansion in southern Illinois, but it was clear the Vamp had money and good taste. The two-story brick Colonial home was in an upper middle class neighborhood. Not in a million years would I have guessed a Vampyre lived amidst the perfectly coiffed and properly dressed families of the affluent suburb. The furniture was all in neutral tones with lots of leather and overstuffed comfy chenille chairs. He had overdone it a tad with the crystal chandeliers hanging in every room, but it made me happy because it was very Dwayne.

  "Shouldn't I be naked?" I asked as I flopped over the arm of the couch with my dress over my head.

  "Nope," Hank said in a husky voice as he gripped my hips and ground himself against my delighted body.

  We'd been so intent on getting down to business neither of us had removed any of our clothing. Thankfully Hank had exchanged the gauchos for jeans and a t-shirt back in Indiana. Even though he was hotter than asphalt in August, it might have been a bit unsettling to have sex with him looking like a metrosexual, gay Vampyre fashionista. The jeans were around his ankles and his shirt was shredded from round one when it had gotten a little out of hand and my claws had come out. It was all kinds of sexy and all kinds of out of control.

  "I am so in love with you," he whispered in my ear as he slid into my body and began to pound me like there was no tomorrow.

  I arched my back and met his wild thrusts with screams of pleasure. I sure as hell hoped Dwayne's neighbors weren't home.

  "How does this keep getting better?" I cried out as I felt the familiar tingle begin to coil in my body.

  "Don't know. Don't care," he ground out as his thrusts became frenzied.

  "I'm close," I gasped as I clawed at the couch and gripped him within my body like a vise.

  "Come," Hank demanded as I felt him grow larger inside me. "Now."

  I came with a shriek as I closed my eyes and brilliant color ripped across my vision. I gasped for air as every nerve ending in my body shuddered with pleasure. Hank's breathing was labored as he planted kisses all over my shoulders and neck.

  "Love you… love you so much," he muttered as he pulled out and gently cradled my still quivering body in his strong arms. "Never gonna let you go."

  "I'm not going anywhere, big guy," I whispered as I pressed my kiss-swollen lips to his cheek. "You're stuck with me forever."

  "Damn right," he said as his head fell back on the couch.

  We cuddled in silence. In this moment my world was perfect. My worry for Granny was still there, but I felt safe, loved, and cherished.

  "Hank, can I ask you something?" I asked as I reluctantly crawled off his lap and straightened the dress I'd never removed.

  "Anything."

  "Did the Vampyre blood affect you? Do you feel different?" I asked as he followed me to the kitchen and watched me rummage through the cabinets for something to eat. We'd used up an enormous amount of calories and I was starving.

  After a long pause he sighed. "I do feel strange. The murderous streak I felt in the battle was disconcerting. I couldn't quite control it—it felt like it was controlling me. My need to kill verged on psychotic."

  "How does Dwayne handle that?" I asked as I gave up on finding anything edible in a Vampyre's kitchen.

  "He's three hundred years old," Hank reminded me. "He's had time to rein it in… or he has some secret serial killer life we don't know about."

  I considered the possibility for a moment. It was a surprise to me how much property he owned. However, the thought of Dwayne going out on pleasure murders was ludicrous. Was Dwayne just different from other Vamps? The thought of owing a favor to a bloodsucker who didn't have his shit together like Dwayne did give me pause.

  "I couldn't let Dwayne take all the responsibility for Granny's safety," I said quietly. The ramifications of what I'd done by taking on the responsibility of the debt to the Vamps was starting to really sink in.

  "You were correct. As much as I don't like owing Vamps, we take care of our own."

  "Maybe it won't be too bad," I said in a cheery tone that didn't fool either of us.

  "Uh huh," Hank shot back with a small shudder. "Let's just go with that one until we find out differently."

  "Deal. Wanna go find food?" I asked, happy to change the subject.

  "Drive thru or sit down?" he asked as he played with my post sex messy curls.

  "I don't know," I said. "Either. Why?"

  "Sit down—we have to change." He smirked like a dude who'd gotten majorly la
id as he glanced down at his shredded shirt. "Drive thru—we can go looking like we've just had sex for several hours."

  Looking down at my wrinkled and torn dress, I grinned. "I'm hungry. I'm not changing."

  "Then drive thru it is." He chuckled as he grabbed my hand and we ran out of the front door.

  ***

  "I'm having a hard time dealing with the fact I just ate ten tacos. I'm pretty sure I have a food baby," I muttered as I patted my full stomach.

  "That's nothing," Hank bragged. "I ate seventeen. I have food quadruplets."

  I giggled as I slurped on my soda and tried to keep my eyes open. It had been a long couple of days and sleep hadn't been a priority. We were parked outside a local taco joint because neither of us could wait to eat until we got home. The fabulous Mustang we'd found the keys for got a few envious glances, but I didn't care. It drove like a dream. I scented only humans and was relieved we were probably safe from danger at least for the evening.

  "So do we have a plan for tomorrow?" I asked as I tried to tamp down my gluttonous need for more cheap Mexican food. Thank god Werewolf metabolism was fast.

  "We call on the burner phone and we meet up."

  "Let's do it in a public place. How about on Clark by Wrigley Field?"

  "I was thinking the Lincoln Park Zoo in case we have to shift," he countered.

  "Damn, you're good. The Dragon drinks the serum before we get into any logistics." I looked away from the mound of empty taco wrappers so I could pretend I hadn't eaten quite as much as I had.

  "Excellent. We'll say we'll meet by the Red Wolf area, but we'll stay in the shadows until we know they're alone," Hank suggested.

  "We call and give them eight minutes to get there. That's enough time from the office if they run. Leave a note at the Wolf cage and then tell them to proceed to the monkeys. At the monkey cage, leave a note to send them to the reptiles, and if we think they're clean by then—we talk. If we think they're being followed or they brought anyone else to the party, we disappear."

  "God, you're hot when you go all agent," Hank said with a whistle and a quick peck to my lips.

  "Wait, one more twist. Have them start at Wrigley and then we call them with the burner and start the maze at the zoo."

  "Just when I thought you couldn't get any hotter… "

  "I'm good like that," I said with a giggle.

  We sat back in our seats and basked in our smart plan and full stomachs.

  "If you put a pin in me I'd pop," Hank said with a groan.

  "Good thing we had sex before we ate our own weight in tacos," I said as I seriously contemplated going through the drive thru one more time.

  "True," Hank agreed and then laughed. "You wanna get a few more?"

  "Oh my god, you are so the man for me."

  And we went back through the drive thru… two more times.

  Chapter 14

  "You armed and ready?" Hank asked quietly as we walked into the zoo.

  "Yep. Locked and loaded."

  The morning had dawned sunny and beautiful—not a cloud in the sky. The breeze floated playfully through the trees in the park. Sadly, I felt anything but playful. It was early and not many people were in the zoo. I was thankful for that. There was the potential for things to go very wrong with a Dragon involved. I still didn't trust my boss for pairing us with a species that had tried to kill me twice in the last month alone. Whatever. I was sure she had her reasons.

  We'd placed the notes where they were certain to find them and we found an excellent hiding spot in the bushes outside the reptile house. Our greenish brown fatigues blended right in. My adrenaline was pumping and the Vampyre blood in my system itched for a bloody fight. Not to mention my inner wolf was rattling her cage like a crazy person. Tamping both instincts down took effort, but I succeeded. I was only going Rambo if I had to.

  "You wanna make the call?" Hank asked with a grin that belied the tension I could feel coming off of him.

  "I most certainly do," I answered as I rolled my neck and popped my sternum.

  "Doesn't that hurt?" Hank asked as he winced at the sound of my bones popping.

  "Dude, we turn into Wolves. How can my popping my sternum freak you out?"

  "Point," he conceded with a chuckle.

  I stared at the phone for a long moment. The same one I had talked to Dwayne on only an hour ago. They were in the process of moving Granny to Michigan and so far things were going as expected. Dwayne was cautiously optimistic. However, the Cows were downright ecstatic at the thought of feeding and coddling Granny. The girls had no doubt whatsoever that she would wake up in a week. I wasn't as sure, but I wanted to believe it so badly my heart hurt.

  "What are you waiting for?" Hank asked as he watched me closely. "Do you want me to make the call?"

  "Nope," I said with a sigh. "It's just when I make the call there's no turning back. The ball will start rolling and there is no way in hell to stop it."

  "The ball is already rolling," Hank said logically and without emotion. "We're going to stop it and obliterate it. The call is just a small piece of a puzzle already halfway put together. Lose the feelings you have for everyone but me. Use your training and let instinct guide you."

  "My instinct says to let my Wolf and Vamp out and kill shit," I told him with a rueful smile.

  "Well, then… listen."

  He was correct. The time for introspective thought was over. It was time to trust no one but Hank and myself. I would proceed with caution and with my eyes and ears wide open. I felt for my Glock and the knives and squirt gun filled with the solution Dima would have to drink. It would prohibit her shift and potentially elongate my life and Hank's.

  Everything was in place as much as Hank or I could manage. It was time to call my boss.

  I dialed and held my breath.

  "Angela… dude, how's it hanging?" I said breezily as she picked up her phone and grunted what barely passed for a greeting.

  "Where in the hell have you been?" she shouted as I yanked the phone away from my ear. "And what phone number are you calling from?"

  "Had to get a new phone plan since I haven't seen my paycheck this month," I explained with a touch of sarcasm in my tone. "You sound like you ran out of whiskey."

  "It's in your mailbox at the apartment you haven't been back to," she snapped. "And for your information, I've been through several bottles in the last few days, thinking you were dead."

  "Now why on earth would you think I was dead?" I asked coldly. I most certainly could have been dead if the Dragons or the Wolves had succeeded, but did she know that?

  "Because you're two days late and I haven't heard from you or Hank or Dwayne or Bobby Sue," she screeched. "I have no more hair on the right side of my head. I could skin you alive right now, Essie."

  "Yeah, well, get in line," I muttered.

  Her demeanor was the same as it always was. She'd threatened to kill me at least three times a week for the past year and never made good on it. The maddest I ever saw her was when she realized I'd used the company card for a spa day and dinner at Ruth Chris. The front row seats to a Coldplay concert for Dwayne and me also hadn’t helped. I had been fairly sure that day was going to be my last on earth, but I was still kicking. I needed to be careful not to read too much into anything.

  "Get your ass down to headquarters. We have situations in the making and I have no more time for lazy agents who can't make deadlines," she grumbled.

  There was that word again… dead. Why it kept popping out at me was an irony. Angela was no different than she always had been.

  "No can do, hot mamma. I'm in no mood for a clusterhump today," I replied calmly.

  Her silence was unexpected. Was it the "no can do" or the "hot mamma" or the "clusterhump" that threw her off her yelling game? My lack of respect for authority was nothing new.

  "I do believe my statement was a direct order," she ground out.

  I heard a rustling in the background and I was positive she was searching for
her booze.

  "I do believe we are off the grid and you are not giving the orders," I countered in a tone I rarely used. "Is the Dragon with you?"

  "Um, yes," she stuttered, not quite as sure of herself.

  "That's wonderfully sucktastic," I yelled. Her yelp of pain amused me and I decided to yell the rest of the conversation. "You have exactly eight minutes from the time we hang up to get the Dragon and your half-bald Wolf ass to the front entrance of Wrigley Field. If you fail your mission we'll be gone."