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Brandi

Page 24

by Donna McDonald

I stopped my crappy car in front of a charming old Craftsman. Flowers covered every inch of the yard. It was a literal explosion of riotous color and I loved it. Granny hated grass—found the color offensive. It was the home I grew up in. Granny BS, as everyone loved to call her, had raised me after my parents died in a horrific car accident when I was four. I barely remembered my parents, but Granny had told me beautiful bedtime stories about them my entire childhood.

  “OMG, this place is so cute I could scream.” Dwayne squealed and jumped out of the car into the blazing sunlight. All the stories about Vamps burning to ash or sparkling like diamonds in the sun were a myth. The only thing that could kill Weres and Vamps were silver bullets, decapitation, fire and a silver stake in the heart.

  Grabbing Dwayne by the neck of his muscle shirt, I stopped him before he went tearing into the house. “Granny is old school. She thinks Vamps are…you know.”

  “Blood sucking leeches who should be eliminated?” Dwayne grinned from ear to ear. He loved a challenge. Crap.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but she’s old and set in her geezer ways. So if you have to, steer clear.”

  “I’ll have her eating kibble out of my manicured lily white hand in no time at…holy shit!” Dwayne screamed and ducked as a blur of Granny BS came flying out of the house and tackled my ass in a bed of posies.

  “Mother Humper.” I grunted and struggled as I tried to shove all ninety-five pounds of pissed off Grandma Werewolf away from me.

  “Gimme that stomach,” she hissed as she yanked up my shirt. Thank the Lord I was wearing a bra. Dwayne stood in mute shock and just watched me get my butt handed to me by my tiny granny, who even at eighty was the spitting image of a miniature Sophia Loren in her younger years.

  “Get off of me, you crazy old bag,” I ground out and tried to nail her with a solid left. She ducked and backslapped my head.

  “I said no tattoos and no piercings till you’re fifty,” she yelled. “Where is it?”

  “Oh my GOD,” I screeched as I trapped her head with my legs in a scissors hold. “You need meds.”

  “Tried ‘em. They didn’t work,” she grumbled as she escaped from my hold. She grabbed me from behind as I tried to make a run for my car and ripped out my belly button ring.

  “Ahhhhhhgrhupcraaap, that hurt, you nasty old bat from Hell.” I screamed and looked down at the bloody hole that used to be really cute and sparkly. “That was a one carat diamond, you ancient witch.”

  Both of her eyebrows shot up and I swear to god they touched her hairline.

  “Okay, fine,” I muttered. “It was cubic zirconia, but it was NOT cheap.”

  “Hookers have belly rings,” she snapped.

  “No, hookers have pimps. Normal people have belly rings, or at least they used to,” I shot back as I examined the wound that was already closing up.

  “Come give your granny a hug,” she said and put her arms out.

  I approached warily just in case she needed to dole out more punishment for my piercing transgression. She folded me into her arms and hugged me hard. That was the thing about my granny. What you saw was what you got. Everyone always knew where they stood with her. She was mad and then she was done. Period.

  “Lawdy, I have missed you, child,” she cooed.

  “Missed you too, you old cow.” I grinned and hugged her back. I caught Dwayne out of the corner of my eye. He was even paler than normal if that was possible and he had placed his hands over his pierced ears.

  “Granny, I brought my…”

  “Gay Vampyre best friend,” she finished my introduction. She marched over to him, slapped her hands on her skinny hips and stared. She was easily a foot shorter than Dwayne, but he trembled like a baby. “Do you knit?” she asked him.

  “Um…no, but I’ve always wanted to learn,” he choked out.

  She looked him up and down for a loooong minute, grunted and nodded her head. “We’ll get along just fine then. Get your asses inside before the neighbors call the cops.”

  “Why would they call the cops?” Dwayne asked, still terrified.

  “Well boy, I live amongst humans and I just walloped my granddaughter on the front lawn. Most people don’t think that’s exactly normal.”

  “Point,” he agreed and hightailed it to the house.

  “Besides,” she cackled. “Wouldn’t want the sheriff coming over to arrest you now, would we?”

  I rolled my eyes and flipped her the bird behind her back.

  “Saw that, girlie,” she said.

  Holy Hell, she still had eyes in the back of her head. If I was smart, I’d grab Dwayne, get in my car and head back to Chicago…but I had a killer to catch and a whole lot to prove here. Smart wasn’t on my agenda today.

  Chapter 3

  The house was exactly the same as it was the last time I saw it a year ago. Granny had more crap on her tables, walls and shelves than an antique store. Dwayne was positively speechless and that was good. Granny took her décor seriously.

  “I’m a little disappointed that you want to be a model, Essie,” Granny sighed. “You have brains and a mean right hook. Never thought you’d try to coast by with your looks.”

  I gave Dwayne the I’ll kill you if you tell her I’m an agent on a mission look and thankfully he understood. While I hated that my granny thought I was shallow and jobless, it was far safer that she didn’t know why I was really here.

  “Well, you know…I just need to make a few bucks, then get back to my life in the big city,” I mumbled. I was a sucky liar around my granny and she knew it.

  “Hmmm,” she said, staring daggers at me.

  “What?” I asked, not exactly making eye contact.

  “Nothin’. I’m just lookin’,” she challenged.

  “And what are you looking at?” I blew out an exasperated sigh and met her eyes. A challenge was a challenge and I was a Werewolf…

  “A bald face little fibber girl,” she crowed. “Spill it or I’ll whoop your butt again.”

  Dwayne quickly backed himself into a corner and slid his phone out of his pocket. That shit was going to video my ass kicking. I had several choices here…destroy Dwayne’s phone, elaborate on my lie or come clean. The only good option was the phone.

  “Fine,” I snapped and sucked in a huge breath. The truth will set you free or result in a trip to the ER… “I’m an agent with the Council—a trained killer for WTF and I’m good at it. The fact that I’m a magnet for trouble has finally paid off. I’m down here to find out who in the hell is killing Werewolves before it blows up in our faces. I plan to find the perps and destroy them with my own hands or a gun, whichever will be most painful. Then I’m going to castrate Hank with a dull butter knife. I plan on a short vacation when I’m done before going back to Chicago.”

  For the first time in my twenty-eight years on Earth, Granny was mute. It was all kinds of awesome.

  “Can I come on the vacation?” Dwayne asked.

  “Yes. Cat got your tongue, old woman?” I asked.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” she said almost inaudibly. “I suppose this shouldn’t surprise me. You are a female alpha bitch.”

  “No,” I corrected her. “I’m a lone wolf who wants nothing to do with Pack politics. Ever.”

  Granny sat her skinny bottom down on her plastic slipcovered floral couch and shook her head. “Ever is a long time, little girl. Well, I suppose I should tell you something now,” she said gravely and worried her bottom lip.

  “Oh my god, are you sick?” I gasped. Introspective thought was way out of my granny’s normal behavior pattern. My stomach roiled. She was all I had left in the world and as much as I wanted to skin her alive, I loved her even more.

  “Weres don’t get sick. It’s about your mamma and daddy. Sit down. And Dwayne, hand over your phone. If I find out you have loose lips, I’ll remove them,” she told my bestie.

  I sat. Dwayne handed. I had thought I knew everything there was to know about my parents, but clearly I was mistaken. Huge
ly mistaken.

  “You remember when I told you your mamma and daddy died in a car accident?”

  “Yes,” I replied slowly. “You showed me the newspaper articles.”

  “That’s right.” She nodded. “They did die in a car, but it wasn’t no accident.”

  Movement was necessary or I thought I might throw up. I paced the room and tried to untangle my thoughts. It wasn’t like I’d even known my parents, but they were mine and now I felt cheated somehow. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest I was sure the neighbors could hear it. My parents were murdered and this was the first time I was hearing about it?

  “Again. Say that again.” Surely I’d misunderstood. I’d always been one to jump to conclusions my entire life, but the look on Granny’s face told me that this wasn’t one of those times.

  “They didn’t own a hardware store. Well, actually I think they did, but it was just a cover.”

  “For what?” I asked, fairly sure I knew where this was going.

  “They were WTF agents, child, and they were taken out,” she said and wrapped her skinny little arms around herself. “Broke my heart—still does.”

  “And you never told me this? Why?” I demanded and got right up in her face.

  “I don’t rightly know,” she said quietly. “I wanted you to grow up happy and not feel the need for revenge.”

  She stroked my cheek the way she did when I was a child and I leaned into her hand for comfort. I was angry, but she did what she thought was right. Needless to say, she wasn’t right, but…

  “Wait, why would I have felt the need for revenge?” I asked. Something was missing.

  “The Council was never able to find out who did it, and after a while they gave up.”

  Everything about that statement was so wrong I didn’t know how to react. They gave up? What the hell was that? The Council never gave up. I was trained to get to the bottom of everything. Always.

  “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. The Council always gets their answers.”

  Granny shrugged her thin shoulders and rearranged the knickknacks on her coffee table. Wait. Did the Council know more about me than I did? Did my boss Angela know more of my history than I’d ever known?

  “I knew that recruiter they sent down here,” Granny muttered. “I told him to stay away from you. Told him the Council already took my daughter and son-in-law and they couldn’t have you.”

  “He didn’t pay me any more attention than he did anyone else,” I told her.

  “What did the flyer say that he gave you?”

  “Same as everybody’s—salary, training, benefits, car, apartment.”

  “Damn it to hell,” she shouted. “No one else’s flyer said that. I confiscated them all after the bastard left. I couldn’t get to yours cause you were shacking up with the sheriff.”

  “You lived with Hank the Hooker?” Dwayne gasped. “I thought you just dated a little.”

  “Hell to the no,” Granny corrected Dwayne. “She was engaged. Left the alpha of the Georgia Pack high and dry.”

  “Enough,” I snapped. “Ancient history. I’m more concerned about what kind of cow patty I’ve stepped in with the Council. The sheriff knows why I left. Maybe the Council accepted me cause I can shoot stuff and I have no fear and they have to hire a certain quota of women and…”

  “And they want to make sure you don’t dig into the past,” Dwayne added unhelpfully.

  “You’re a smart bloodsucker,” Granny chimed in.

  “Thank you.”

  “You think the Council had something to do with it,” I said. This screwed with my chi almost as much as the Hank situation from a year ago. I had finally done something on my own and it might turn out I hadn’t earned any of it.

  “I’m not sayin’ nothing like that,” Granny admonished harshly. “And neither should you. You could get killed.”

  She was partially correct, but I was the one they sent to kill people who broke Council laws. However, speaking against the Council wasn’t breaking the law. The living room had grown too small for my need to move and I prowled the rest of the house with Granny and Dwayne on my heels. I stopped short and gaped at my empty bedroom.

  “Where in the hell is my furniture?”

  “You moved all your stuff to Hank’s and he won’t give it back,” Granny informed me.

  An intense thrill shot through my body, but I tamped it down immediately. I was done with him and he was surely done with me. No one humiliated an alpha and got a second chance. Besides, I didn’t want one… Dwayne’s snicker earned him a glare that made him hide behind Granny in fear.

  “Did you even try to get my stuff back?” I demanded.

  “Of course I did,” she huffed. “That was your mamma’s set from when she was a child. I expected you’d use it for your own daughter someday.”

  My mamma…My beautiful mamma who’d been murdered along with my daddy. The possibility that the Council had been involved was gnawing at my insides in a bad way.

  “I have to compartmentalize this for a minute or at least a couple of weeks,” I said as I stood in the middle of my empty bedroom. “I have to do what I was sent here for. But when I’m done, I’ll get answers and vengeance.”

  “Does that mean no vacation?” Dwayne asked.

  I stared at Dwayne like he’d grown three heads. He was getting terribly good at rendering me mute.

  “That was a good question, Dwayne.” Granny patted him on the head like a dog and he preened. “Essie, your mamma and daddy would want you to have a vacation before you get killed finding out what happened to them.”

  “Can we go to Jamaica?” Dwayne asked.

  “Ohhh, I’ve never been to Jamaica,” Granny volunteered.

  They were both batshit crazy, but Jamaica did sound kind of nice…

  “Fine, but you’re paying,” I told Dwayne. He was richer than Midas. He’d made outstanding investments in his three hundred years.

  “Yayayayayayay!” he squealed.

  “I’ll call the travel agent,” Granny said. “How long do you need to get the bad guy?”

  “A week. Give me a week.”

  ** Available at your favorite ebook retailers. **

  Visit www.robynpeterman.com for more information.

  More About Donna McDonald

  After 35 years of doing everything for a living except writing books, I finally published my first romance novel in March of 2011. Thirty plus novels later, I am living my own happily ever after as a full time romance author.

  I do my best to give back to the universe by hanging out to write at local coffee shops and helping keep them in business. When not at one of those, I am sitting in my office at a monstrous black desk I bought from my sister that my husband lovingly refers to as my “table”.

  My work spans several romance genres, including contemporary, paranormal, and science fiction. Humor is the most common element across all my writing. Addicted to making readers laugh, I include a good dose of romantic comedy in every book.

  **Visit www.donnamcdonaldauthor.com. I love to hear from readers.**

 

 

 


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