"Yep," Jamie chimed in proudly. "It burns like Hell in July, but it can be done. All we gotta do is put our right leg in front of our left about three inches apart, bend over, grunt real loud and then rap."
"I thought it was the left," Pat said with pursed lips.
"Nope. Right," Francis informed her. "We also need to visualize jalapeno peppers and an assload of wasabi."
"No pun intended," I mumbled.
"What?" Francis asked, bewildered.
"Nothing," I said.
"It helps too if we're completely nekkid," Harley stated as she began to remove her shirt.
Sweet hell, this was getting out of hand.
"Just your pants, Harley," Terry chided as she dropped trou.
"You girls can rap?" Dwayne asked as his daughters removed their pants.
"We sure as heck can," Francis said with pride as she began to beat box to a rhythm in her head that should have stayed there.
"Stop," Hank commanded as he tried desperately to avoid seeing the half-clad Cows while still watching the Wolves. "I'm not real sure where it's safe to look right now, but the Cows have to go. Gas will not kill the Wolves, it will just infuriate them and we don't need them more agitated."
"I agree," I said as I handed Francis her pants, keeping my eyes on her face. "Go in the house and lock it down. If any of the staff survived the Dragons tend to them. Do not come out here—no matter what happens."
"But," Francis started to protest.
"No buts… pun intended." I grinned at my own joke and halted any other suggestion which required smelly bodily functions before she could offer it. "Hank, do you still have the burner phone?"
He handed it to me quickly. "Good thinking. Junior is speed dial one," he muttered.
Hank was wound as tight as a drum and staccato sparks of magic bounced in the air around him.
"If we die out here you will call a man named Junior. Explain what happened and he will come for you," I told them.
"Will he think we harmed you?" Pat asked, ashen-faced.
"No," Hank promised the terrified Cows. "He already knows about you. He will protect you the same as we would."
"We just got our new daddy," Lee sniffled as she grabbed Dwayne's hand and help on tight. "I don't want to lose him."
"Your daddy's not going anywhere," I assured his frightened daughters. "He's a wedding consultant, a semi-famous drag queen, and he owns a Hummer which enables him to use the word freely without repercussion. Now he has a family. His life is practically perfect. You just get your overactive butts into the house. Go—or I will kick them into next year."
"Yes, ma’am," they all mumbled as they hauled tail to the house.
"I love my girls," Dwayne said as he heaved a huge dramatic sigh.
"Dude, what are you doing? You don't breathe," I pointed out.
"True," he agreed. "I just thought I would try something new in case we bite it out here. It's kind of fun."
"Can you mind meld again?" I asked, feeling ill that I was even considering blowing up some of my own kind.
"Doubtful," Dwayne said with a regretful shake of his head. "The last effort took it out of me."
"Me too," Granny added with a shudder.
The Wolves had not advanced yet and it was unnerving. What did they want?
"We don't want to harm you," Hank called to them. "I'm going to shift so we can communicate. It's not an act of aggression."
"Are you certain that's the best thing to do?" I asked him, worried. "You can't shoot if you shift."
"No, but you can," he said as he removed his clothes. "You got silver bullets in your gun?"
"Of course," I replied as I very inappropriately admired his beautiful muscular body. Even pending death didn't mute my attraction to him.
"Shoot for the brain to slow them and then go for the heart. Shift only if you have to heal yourself or if you run out of bullets," he instructed as he fluidly shifted to his Wolf.
I grabbed his guns and strapped them on. I had enough ammo on me to take out a small army. Hopefully I wouldn't have to use it.
"Granny and Dwayne, you ready?"
"I am," Granny said as she pulled her weapons and stood tall.
"Dwayne is always ready," my Vampyre BFF informed me cockily.
"You enjoy talking about yourself in third person." I pointed out with an eye roll.
"Yes," he agreed. "Yes, I do."
The Wolves seemed displeased Hank had shifted. The growling increased and my stomach roiled. This did not look good.
"We mean you no harm," Hank told the Wolves. "We would like to help you if we can."
Hank's Wolf shook his head and tried again. Thankfully Dwayne and I could communicate with Hank even though we couldn't hear the Wolves. Granny was the only one we'd have to interpret for.
"We mean no harm. What do you want?"
The Wolves gathered close to each other and bared their fangs as they howled and pawed at the ground.
"What did they say?" I asked Hank.
"It's garbled—almost as if they're speaking another language."
"Make sense. They've probably created their own language," Dwayne said with an impressed nod. "Enables them to speak without any other Wolf understanding."