When the pre-wedding ceremony was over and everybody was having drinks and snacks, Winkler came to sit beside me. We were in chairs outside and it was cool out but not unbearably so. "Winkler, what happened to all those werewolves that attacked Weldon?" I'd been unconscious afterward with no idea what had happened.
"Buried on-site, usually. If they die in wolf form, they normally don't change back," Winkler said. "Their families are notified that they attempted an unsuccessful challenge."
"Holy cow," I said softly. "Where's your dad?"
"On a ranch in Texas," he said. "Mom's buried next to him. The family that owns the ranch gave permission."
"Werewolves, too?"
"Yeah."
"Winkler, I'm sorry for that part of your life," I said. And I was. That had to suck, big time. "What happens to the widows of the Packmasters that got killed?"
"The new Packmasters have the option of taking them, if they're not married already. Sometimes that works out. Sometimes not."
"Sounds a little brutal to me," I said.
"It's to perpetuate the species. Female werewolves can bear young until they're at least a hundred and fifty. If the mate was human, they're excluded from the Pack. They take whatever they have of value and move away if they're able. Sometimes the Pack puts funds together to accomplish that.
"Why do they do that?" I asked.
"To prevent retaliation. Humans don't see things the same way werewolves do at times. I've heard tales of humans taking a gun to a run area on the full moon and just shooting indiscriminately."
"There certainly are a few differences in the species, aren't there," I said.
"Yeah. Same for the vamps, obviously."
"I'm still waiting for the Vampire Manual to be carried at B&N," I said.
"You'll be waiting for that forever," he informed me dryly. "They guard that information better than Fort Knox. It's all oral tradition, passed on from sire to child."
"You're just a fountain of cheerful information," I retorted.
"Sorry to burst your bubble and all," he said.
"You could have strung it out a little, maybe said there might be a manual, someday, when the unicorns and fairies come out of hiding."
"Don't make fun of Unicorns," Shirley Walker came to sit down nearby.
"Have you seen one?" Winkler was teasing her. Personally, I wouldn't want to tease Shirley. She looked like she could stop a speeding bus with one hand.
"Now, why would I tell you that?" Shirley smiled. "What I will say is that sometimes there really are more things in heaven and earth." She accepted a cup of coffee from someone and sipped it.
"Three months ago, I would have told you that vampires and werewolves didn't exist. That they were a myth," I said. "Funny, isn't it, how your convictions can sometimes bite you in the ass?"
Weldon came over and sat down next. He already had a cup of coffee in his hand. "Little vampire," he said, "I've thought and thought, trying to come up with some way to repay you for what you did for me. I'm not even sure how you did half of it, but that doesn't make me any less grateful. What I have is this." He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me.
"What's this?" I asked.
"A phone number," he said. "I suggest you memorize it. If there's ever anything the werewolf nation can do for you, call that number. We'll do our best to answer the call for help."
"All right," I said. I looked at the number, hoped it would stick in my mind and then handed the paper back to Weldon. Chances were I'd never need it. I'd either be stuck with Winkler or the Council, Ed or Serge would find me and it wouldn't do me any good at all then. "Thank you," I said to Weldon.
"Well, thank you is inadequate, on my part, anyway. I appreciate what you did. And I will honor you, as long as I live."
"Nobody's ever offered to do that before," I smiled at him.
"And I will tell my grandchild I was rescued from a tree by a cookie baking vampire," he grinned.
"See that you do," I laughed.
Chapter 13
The wedding was held as soon as the sun was down and fireflies winked here and there during the ceremony, lending an ethereal quality to the service. Kathy Jo wore a beautiful, ivory gown and Daryl, dressed handsomely in a tux, was grinning the entire time. Weldon stood up with his son and Martin Walters came in for the wedding with his wife and two children. I got to hold his youngest, Martin Walters, Jr., but they called him Mack. He was dark-haired with black eyes, just like his father. His daughter was at the shy stage, hiding behind her father's legs and refusing to come out.
Somebody was there acting as DJ for the reception and there were a few couples dancing. I remembered a night when Gavin and I had crashed a reception and danced with that crowd. I liked that Gavin. Now he was surly at the best of times and there was no talking to him. He'd been absent during most of the stay in North Dakota, off to who knew where, but he continued to guard at night just like always, sleeping in his corner during the day. He didn’t disturb my sleep, but then nobody could.
"You look lovely." Davis was there, a cup of punch in his hands. Somebody had spiked it a little; I could smell the alcohol from yards away.
"Davis, don't say anything you can't take back tomorrow," I smiled at him.
"Come and dance with me," Winkler walked over and took my arm.
"Winkler, there's been several women ogling you all night, you should dance with them," I said.
"I want to dance with you," he insisted.
"Fine," I sighed. We waited until the current song ended and the DJ started something else. It was Shameless, by Garth Brooks. The thought crossed my mind briefly while we were dancing that Winkler had almost died in a wheat field on the outskirts of Garth Brooks' hometown. It made me wonder if he appreciated the irony of it all. I also wondered where Gavin had gotten off to. He could have danced with just about anyone there. They all looked at him—when he wasn't watching, anyway. He was so tall and handsome (when he wasn't scowling, that is), and his wide shoulders alone would make most women swoon—even werewolf women. Winkler tried to get me to dance with him again, but I begged off so he took Whitney for a round and then Kathy Jo.
Weldon was the one who came and insisted I dance one more time, so I danced with the Grand Master of the werewolves. Held against his warmer than average body while we danced, I wondered how many women had the honor of dancing with Weldon. Probably none of them vampire, that was a safe bet. The party broke up around four and people went off to find beds while I took my shoes off and ran toward the river. There was no ice now, although the water was still freezing. I wondered if I could jump the river if I took a run at it, but wasn't willing to take the risk. Sitting down on the bank instead, I mulled over the last five months of my life and wondered how different it might have been if I'd still been human, or if I'd had a sire who'd taken responsibility for me. I was quite shocked when Gavin came to sit beside me after a bit.
"You missed the dancing," I said. "There were plenty of women looking for you."
"I wasn't looking for them."
"Man, I made you swear off women altogether, didn't I?" I said.
He didn't answer my question, asking one of his own, instead. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.
"Thinking. I was just wondering how my life would have been different," I said. "If I hadn't been turned. I guess I'd be at home after working a full day, having something small for dinner and watching the news before going to bed. And I was wondering how my life might have been different if somebody turned me that gave a damn, instead of betting on the outcome."
"No speculation on that one?" he asked.
"I have nothing to base it on," I told him.
"I will do it for you," he said almost gently. "Your sire would have watched carefully, to make sure you were making the turn instead of dying a final death. He would have a ready supply of blood nearby when you did wake, and he would have fed you the very first time. Then he would fill your nights with the teachings
that you needed to learn and take you out and show you how to take blood properly from a donor. Your vampire father would be your shield and protection for several years, until you were ready to stand on your own. He would have seen to your financial well-being, making sure you had a safe place to live. And he would always be available in case you needed help of any kind. You would have been his child, for as long as he lived."
"Well, that's really nice," I said. "You make it sound good instead of horrible. I'll think of that instead of the image I have of being abandoned."
"You should not have been," Gavin said, rising. "You should go back soon." He walked away. As long as I live, I may never figure out that man. I got up, carrying my shoes in my hand and headed to the cabin. Gavin came in behind me, just as I was getting into bed. He climbed into his sleeping bag and I turned out the light.
* * *
The night in Corpus Christi was rainy when we got back, with water standing in little puddles around the tarmac when we got off the plane. I got my own bags off the plane even though Davis offered to take them for me. I wasn't helpless or weak anymore. I was vampire and a lot stronger than I looked. It didn't rain often there on the beach, but Gavin and I made our rounds in the rain that evening. Whitney and Sam spent the night—they were planning on going to Sam's home in the morning. My hair was plastered to my head when Phil and Glen took over and I probably looked like a drowned rat. That's what my mother used to say, anyway. Gavin was completely soaked as well. I went straight to the shower and turned the water as hot as I could stand it. Even I felt chilled after all that cold rain. Gavin must have done the same thing; he was toweling off and wearing dry pajama bottoms when I came out to grab one of my partial bags of blood. I was feeling a little hungry for some reason, so I drank it on the way to my bedroom. Gavin, as usual, didn't even blink as he watched.
The weather turned really hot in June, but the beach was always ten to fifteen degrees cooler on Mustang Island than it was inland. The days were longer, too, so I woke later in the evening. The summer solstice came and I didn't wake until long after eight on that day. That must be a weird day for vampires. A short night and a long sleep.
I cooked for Winkler and the others too, on that night. They wanted pork chops, so I stuffed some for them. Winkler was as happy that night as I'd ever seen for some reason, and he hadn't even gone to find a hooker. Not that I knew of, anyway.
Cleaning up the kitchen afterward wasn't all that bad. It was done quickly, so I made my way out the door to help Gavin. At least he wasn't as surly as he'd been before and I couldn't figure that out—the man was more mercurial than the planet or the god. There are insects that sing almost constantly throughout the summer on the beaches along the Gulf Coast and they were making their noise, now. Sometimes it was nearly deafening to my ears. We occasionally heard the random car drive past on highway 361; vacationers coming home from a bar or teens that had been necking over on the ship channel. Otherwise, our guard duty was peaceful and uninterrupted.
Three days later Davis was there the moment I woke, asking me to cook dinner again. "Winkler wants to celebrate a little," he said, so I checked the fridge for something I could fix. Winkler had sent someone after cube steak, which meant he wanted a chicken fry. That's exactly what he got, with all the trimmings. He uncorked a couple bottles of wine, too, pouring out for everybody. "I have an announcement," he said, lifting his glass. "I finished the program, today. The preliminary tests are very good. I think we have a winner." Everybody clapped and Winkler even handed a glass of wine to me so I could toast with the others.
"Congratulations," I said, clinking my glass against his. He was nearly vibrating, he was so happy. He hugged me, too, and didn't stop there, kissing me a couple of times. I made the excuse that I had to go clean the kitchen, so his fellow werewolves expressed their appreciation and they all loaded into one of the SUVs and took off toward a bar.
They probably should have taken Gavin or me with them, as they were all plastered when they got back and I wondered how steady their driving had been on the road home. I also wondered what kind of shape Phil and Glen would be in to stand guard when morning came. That's why I went ahead and looked through Winkler's book that he kept on the bar with phone numbers in it.
"Sam, he's drunk and the others are, too. Do you think there's any way we can get somebody else up here to stay for a while until they sleep it off?"
"Sure. Todd and one of the other guys can come up," he said. "I'll get them on the road right away."
I was glad they arrived before dawn; I was beginning to worry a little. Todd seemed happy to see me and told me he was getting out of running the hay machine that afternoon. "Good for you," I said, patting him on the shoulder. Gavin and I went to bed shortly afterward and I was glad to lie down. The summer heat was a little wearing, even on a vampire.
It turned out to be a good thing that Todd and the other werewolf (he'd been introduced to me as Dennis) were still there when Phil got up before the others and went out for a while. He came back with two werewolves and six humans and all hell broke loose.
* * *
I knew something was wrong even before I woke; the noise was enough to wake the dead (no pun intended), and I had to command my sluggish body to rise, although the sun hadn't completely set that night. Gunshots were erupting from beyond the deck, with answering gunfire from inside the house. There was shouting, growling, howling. I think I was praying again, something I seldom do. Grabbing a bag of blood from the fridge, I was drinking it as quickly as I could but still felt like I was moving in slow motion. I finished my meal the moment the sun slipped below the horizon.
Phil and his army were lined up just off the deck leading to the French doors. The deck itself was built of heavy redwood planking and stood around four feet off the ground. Phil and his allies were ducking below the deck while intermittently firing at Winkler and the others inside the house. With the answering gunfire coming from the house, every window at the back was shattered and the French doors were hanging off their hinges. A bullet thunked into the frame while I watched and a chunk of wood flew off. Phil, for whatever reason, was making a challenge and not in the traditional werewolf fashion. If Winkler could only hang on for a few minutes, help was on the way. I intended to get the head of this snake right off the bat and see if the body fell apart. Turning to mist before I left the guesthouse, I floated out the door, slipping behind Phil and hovering there for a few seconds. He and his buddies were still taking pot shots into the house; I saw bags and containers of extra rounds lying at their feet. No doubt about it, these guys were prepared for a siege. I had no idea what kinds of weapons Winkler had inside the house since guns and ammunition weren't something I went snooping into closets for.
Backing up just a little, I got as low to the ground as I could. None of Phil's bunch were watching behind them, they were watching what was in front of them. It was almost peaceful there, the occasional bullet whizzing overhead notwithstanding, as I made my turn back to corporeality.
Phil's neck was broken when I tossed him aside before turning to the one next in line and smashing his face in with my fist. Now they were aiming guns at me, but just as I'd done with the bunch in Dallas, I snatched their guns away and whacked them in the head with the stock. I was moving too fast for them to get a good shot off and one of them blasted a companion in the face, trying to hit me. They would have done more damage—the werewolf members, anyway—if they'd turned and tried to bite me. Winkler, realizing that something was going on outside, came out with Davis and started helping me. It didn't take long after that. A bullet graze was all I had and I was brushing hair out of my face when Gavin finally made his appearance.
"You get to help clean up," I told him snippily, "since you weren't here for the work." He just raised an eyebrow at me and went to sling Phil over his shoulder.
Todd called Sam's dad, who was there in an hour with a box van. Phil and his bunch were unceremoniously loaded into it and Winkler growled while as
sailants' pockets were emptied. I got the idea that Phil had recruited from other Packs and Winkler was planning to hand information over to Weldon, who'd deliver the news (along with a reprimand) to waiting Packmasters. "I know somebody who has fishing boats," Sam Sr. informed Winkler, once the bodies were locked inside the van. "We'll weight the bodies and dump them about ten miles out in the gulf." Gavin went with Todd and Sam Sr. to do just that.
"You need a new Second," I told Winkler, who nodded. "Why the hell did he turn on you now?"
"The program," Winkler said. "I know you weren't awake for the argument we had before they all started shooting, but he'd pitched in with somebody who offered him ten million for the program if he'd deliver it and my head on a platter."
"I sort of like your head where it is," I said. "But you know this could happen again."
"I know." Winkler raked fingers through his hair. I think if I closed my eyes, I could see that gesture; it was so much a part of him.
"Well, come on," I took his elbow. "You probably need something to drink and I want to talk to you." This talk needed to be private, just between Winkler and me, so we shut ourselves inside the bedroom that Whitney and Sam used when they came to visit. I laid out what I thought was reality for Winkler. I gave him the best advice I could that night and he said he'd think about it. He thought about it for three days and then called a press conference. He'd gone to Dallas to hold the thing and every major network and most of the minor ones were there. I saw a sea of reporters in front of the Dallas house on television. Gavin and I had stayed behind at the beach house.
"I waited as long as I could to make this announcement," Winkler said. Gavin and I were sitting in the media room inside the beach house, watching the huge flat screen on the wall. It beat our small TV inside the guesthouse all to heck.
Blood Wager (Blood Destiny #1) Page 19
