Some Were In Time (28 page)

"Yep."

Hank shook his head and chuckled. "In a half hour we'll be there."

"Half hour more of death-free existence," I said as I turned up the radio. "You like the Clash?" I asked Dima.

"Yes, I do. I also like AC/DC, Johnny Cash and Maroon 5," she added.

"You are my kind of girl," I said with a grin. "My kind of girl."

Chapter 19

"While the concept is interesting, the implementation is horrifying," Dwayne said as he mulled my proposition over and shuddered at the thought. "Dima, I am going to assume this was your suggestion."

"Um, well, I…you know… " Dima stuttered.

"While my Essie is quite brilliant, it would take a mind both devious and intellectual to come up with it," Dwayne explained to a very nervous Dragon.

Clearly she remembered Dwayne was a skilled mind melder and enjoyed blowing up Dragons.

"Wait," I cut in, a little put out. "Are you saying she's smarter than me?"

"I'd suggest zipping it, Ester," Dwayne advised as he bit back a smirk. "You might be winning at the moment."

I zipped it and gave Dima a nudge to continue.

"Well, I just thought since Essie was so incredibly devastated at having to wear a dress that wasn't the one of her dreams on her
special day
—a day which will only happen
once
in her lifetime—that you might find it in your heart to help a girl out. I heard you were wanting to wear a dress, which is delightfully brave and sexy. Soooo… I thought you could save Essie from a massive tantrum and the crying fit which would go hand in hand with her wearing Hank's mom's dress."

"You forgot the words butt-ass fugly," Dwayne said with a raised brow which would have reached his hairline if he’d had hair. "And you should have said
dead heart
since I'm a Vampyre and therefore technically dead."

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"No problemo," Dwayne assured her. "It was an impassioned plea. I'm quite impressed and slightly grossed out at the thought of wearing a poofy dress. With my pecs I should be in a strapless sheath, but I shall take it under consideration. I'm fairly sure with the right heels I could pull off pretty much anything. However, it would go a long way toward convincing me if I knew I was going to perform Lady Gaga in full drag at the reception."

"Done," I shouted as Hank winced and shook his head helplessly.

"Can I throw in a Cher and a Dolly Parton set?" Dwayne negotiated shrewdly.

I thought about it for only a brief second. He could have said he wanted to perform Miley Cyrus naked with a wrecking ball hanging from the ceiling and I would have said yes. Anything was fine so as long as I didn't have to wear the puffed out dress from hell.

"Deal. Shake on it," I demanded. "In front of witnesses."

"I have got to score an invite to this wedding," Dima said as she took in the grand decor of the Great Room of another of Dwayne's homes. She walked the room and ran her hands over the furniture and knickknacks. Dwayne watched her with an odd expression on his face.

"If you live, you're invited," I promised as I tried to figure out what was going on.

"Awesome. Yet another reason to kill my dad."

Dwayne fluffed some pillows and gave me a look indicating we needed to talk in private, but as always he was the polite host.

"So Dima, how old are you?" he asked.

Well, kind of polite…

She pursed her lips and gave him a look. "I'm assuming since you're asking you already know," she said.

"Possibly."

"I'm four hundred and ninety-nine years old. I'll be five hundred in nine months. If I don't find a mate, which by the way is very difficult to do considering my father has killed every male Dragon I have shown even the smallest amount of interest in, I'll die on my birthday."

"Dude, that's harsh," I said seriously.

"Yep," she agreed. "No male Dragon wants to be in the same room with me, so I'm gonna have to kill Pappy."

"It certainly won't be a loss if he's no longer in the world," Dwayne muttered. "Are you prepared to rule your people?"

"No, but is anyone ever prepared for that level of responsibility?" she shot back.

"I suppose not," he said as he eyed her with interest.

"Daddy," Pat yelled as she ran into the room. She tripped over and broke what I was positive was a priceless turn of the century antique coffee table. "Granny is convulsing and spitting up blood. Something is wrong."

"Oh shit," Dwayne hissed as he flew from the room at a speed that would have been impossible to follow.

"Where is she?" Hank ground out as Pat picked herself up off the floor and wiped her tears.

"Dungeon," she said and then saw the looks of shock and horror on our faces. "Oh my goodness," she sputtered. "It's lovely—not your typical dungeon at all. It has carpet and cable and air conditioning—very nice. But then again, my Daddy is not your typical Vampyre."

"I need to go to Granny," I insisted as I grabbed Pat and pulled her in the direction Dwayne had flown.

"Oh Essie, I don't know if it’s a good idea yet," she said as she wrung her huge hands. "It might be too dangerous for you if she wakes and is hungry."

"I don't care," I yelled. "If she's dying I need to be with her."

"She's already dead," Pat corrected me. "We are hoping she stays that way."

"Wait. What?" Dima asked, completely not with the program.

"Semantics," I huffed, ignoring her as I pushed Pat out of the room. "Take me to her or I'll go all Vampy on your ass."

"Yes, ma'am," she sputtered as she led us to a door. Behind it were a series of halls and stairwells.

"I have so many questions I don't even know where to begin," Dima said as she followed close behind. "And you're smoking crack if you think I'm not coming."

"Hold it," I shouted and slammed the Dragon up against the wall. "You tell me something now that will get you killed if it gets out. If you don't, you're not going a step farther."

"How will you know I'm not lying?" she challenged with narrowed eyes as thin tendrils of blue-green smoke wafted out of her nose.

"I won't, but if I think you are I will kill you dead right here. Right now," I said so calmly she tried to back away. Walls weren't conducive for movement.

"I'll know if you're lying," Hank said softly in a hard voice that made me shiver and not in a good way.

He stood next to me as we boxed Dima in. We watched her closely. If her story to Dwayne was true, she probably wasn't long for this world and had little to lose. Lying to us would be small compared to what possibly lay ahead in her not too distant future. However, I liked her. I wanted her to be a good guy. I wanted her to come to my wedding. I wanted her to see Dwayne in the horrid poofy dress.

"The Dragon property butts up to this one. I've stayed in this house before. It's always empty—has been for about forty years. I knew a Vamp owned it, but this is the first time I've ever heard of him being here," she said carefully.

"More," I growled. "That's not enough. That info doesn't put your life in danger. Talk fast, Dragon, or you're out of here."

"If I tell you more, you will let me have the ability to shift. I can't kill my father or protect myself unless I can shift," she bargained.

Her demand wasn't unreasonable—at all. It made my stomach clench, but I wouldn't send any soldier into battle unarmed. She'd had plenty of opportunity to try and kill us, but she hadn't. Trusting my gut was a lot easier when the most complicated thing I was doing was playing Candy Crush. Real life had a way of making one second guess themselves.

"You can shift. We won't make you drink anymore," Hank told her.

I glanced over in surprise, but he just gave me a terse nod. If he trusted her not to enlarge to the size of a football field and roast us like marshmallows, then I would too. However, I needed more blackmail information first.

"Talk, Dragon," I snapped.

"I don't know if this will count, but the Dragons know every inch of this house."

"Why?" I asked, knowing it was probably not a good thing at all.

"Because it butts up to our land and Dragons are curious. It's full of expensive and shiny objects."

"So the whole Dragons hoarding treasure thing is true?" I asked.

"For some," Dima admitted grudgingly.

"What exactly does a hoard mean to a Dragon?" Hank questioned as he backed off a bit.

After a short pause, Dima exhaled and hung her head. "Everything. A Dragon's hoard means everything to them. Without it a Dragon is nothing."

My stomach roiled at what I was about to do. I didn't want to do it, but my granny's future existence was on the line.

"Where is it?" I asked quietly.

Dima's quick intake of breath and Hank’s sharp exhale proved I'd hit a nerve—a big one.

"I don't know what you mean," she mumbled without making eye contact.

"Yes, Dima. Yes, you do. Tell me where your hoard is or I will have Pat kick your Dragon ass right out of this house and out of our lives. You can kill your daddy all by yourself or die trying. I don't care," I said harshly. I felt ill saying such things to her, but there was simply too much on the line to play nice.

"Something else," she begged brokenly. "Ask me for anything else."

"
Their entire self worth is wrapped up in their hoard
," Hank said in my head. "
It's a brilliant move to make her tell us where hers is hidden.
"

"
Why do I feel like such an asshole then
?" I asked.

"
Because you're a good person
."

"
With a nice ass
?" I asked

"
With a great ass
," he assured me.

"
Thank you.
"

"
Welcome
."

"You'll understand why I'm making you tell me this in a few minutes. What you'll see will convince you why I will never in my life share the location of your hoard. You just have to give me something worth dying for because what I'm about to show you—I would definitely give my life for," I told her.

Her stare came from miles away. I was cognizant this was costing her more than I was able to comprehend, but I didn't care. My granny's safety was worth more than any piece of gold.

"It's here," she ground out through clenched teeth. "It's under this house."

"Where?" Hank asked.

"In a tunnel off the dungeon. The third hallway. I'll show you."

"No. If I need to find it the information you gave me is enough," I said as I started moving again.

I could scent Granny. She smelled different, but I could still tell it was her.

"I'm coming," I whispered. "You'd better be the good kind of dead, Bobby Sue, or I'll kill you myself."

***

"Holy shit," Dima muttered as we stood on the far side of the room and watched.

Granny's body flailed violently and there was blood spattered everywhere. It looked like a bad B horror movie. She was tangled up in the sheets and moaning in agony. Dwayne gently pulled them away and tried to calm her. My heart was in my throat and my instinct to run to her was overwhelming. It was a very good thing Hank, Dima and Pat were strong. Holding me back was not easy—evidenced by the grunting, sweating and swearing.

Pat had been correct, the dungeon was really just the basement of a very nice house without any windows. The room Granny was in was large and had been converted into a mini hospital. She looked tiny as she lay in the middle of the huge bed and thrashed. She was hooked up to monitors that were not beeping—a very good sign Pat assured me as I clenched and unclenched my fists in panic.

Bags of blood on ice were in containers on the counters that lined the room and a pile of restraints sat on a table next to the bed. It was somehow comforting that she wasn't tied down during her Death Sleep. The Cows hustled around and did all they could to make her comfortable.

I was so focused on my granny, I hadn't even noticed the Vampyres. At least a dozen of them floated around the room above eye level. They were inhumanly beautiful and clearly concerned about the shit show going on below. Their eyes were glued to the Cows with quick glances spared for Granny and Dwayne. My BFF was correct. The Vamps had it bad for the Cows and the Cows could care less. If life as I knew it wasn't about to detonate in my face, I would have giggled at the how ridiculous the situation was.

"She's not going to make it," I whispered as I watched the horrific scene play out before me.

"We don't know that yet," Hank replied tightly.

I'd made the wrong choice and my Granny's suffering would be on my head for as long as I lived. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. If I had it to do over, I would have let her die with the dignity she deserved. I had no idea how much it was possible to loath myself. I rocked forward and tried my best not to sob. Hank's arms around me were of little solace. I wanted to feel the same pain Granny was feeling. It was the very least I could do for her.