"Junior is speed dial one?" Dwayne asked as he laid Granny on an ornate couch and covered her small body with a blanket.
"He is," I said as I placed another kiss on her cheek.
"Um… we already called him," Pat volunteered sheepishly. "It looked real damn bad out there and we wanted some backup for you."
"Pretty sure he's on his way," Lee added with a shrug and a chuckle. "He has some salty language, that one."
"I'll call him and tell him the new plan," Hank said as he glanced down at himself. "Can you get our clothes from the car?"
"I'll do you one better," Dwayne said with an evil little smirk. "You two go upstairs and shower. I'll lay some outfits out for you."
"Why does that unnerve me worse than fighting Dragons?" Hank asked sardonically as he grabbed my hand and led me to the grand staircase.
"Because you are a very smart boy," I said with a laugh.
***
We were clean, ready to leave, and unfortunately dressed in clothing that made me belly laugh and Hank groan in dismay. We'd be stopping at the first rest stop we came to. We had clothes in the car but Dwayne refused to retrieve them, innocently explaining he couldn't leave Granny alone in the house. He also insisted we take the Hummer. He had a fleet of cars in the underground garage of the house including several high tech vans. They would use those to transport Granny to Michigan in the next day or two. He did manage to say the word hummer at least twelve times before Hank threatened to remove his vocal chords.
None of his staff had made it and Dwayne was heartbroken. The Cows were composing letters with information on the massive life insurance policies Dwayne had given all his employees. He knew it wouldn't bring them back, but he felt it was the very least he could do for their families.
"You look fabu in gauchos, Hank," Dwayne complimented him with glee and a whistle.
"You do realize I will get you back for this," Hank groused as he pulled at the tight sky blue starched wife beater that Dwayne had paired with a pair of black and white hounds tooth gauchos. Thankfully Hank's feet were too large for any of Dwayne's pumps, so he'd wedged his size thirteens into a pair of size seven red sequined flip-flops.
Luckily my Vampyre had picked out a lovely strapless Stella McCartney sundress with wedge heels for me. I looked great and my man looked like a circus reject. However, I still wanted him with a vengeance.
"Wait," I said as I glanced around the room. "Where is everyone?"
The Great Room was empty. Pieces of glass from the mind meld were sprinkled around the massive space, but everything else was pristine.
"In lockdown in the basement," Dwayne explained as he adjusted the waistline on Hank's gauchos. He stopped immediately when Hank clocked him in the head.
"Hank, be nice," I said with a giggle as Dwayne staggered and fell to the couch with a thud.
"Trust me, that was me being nice," Hank responded.
"Why are they in lockdown?" I asked. I wanted to see Granny one more time before we left.
"I've drained her and given her the first blood. It's no longer safe for you to be around her."
I held my tongue as Dwayne covertly snapped a picture of Hank in his gaucho glory with a conveniently stashed camera.
"How did she do?" Hank asked the question I was too scared to ask.
"She did well," Dwayne replied cautiously as he sat on the camera. "It's a good sign, but we have a long way to go."
"Little victories will work right now," I said. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, doll. I promise to take good care of her and I'll keep you informed."
I nodded, too afraid if I spoke I would cry.
"Now about Chicago," Dwayne said briskly, changing the subject. "I have a home under one of my aliases in Lincolnshire. It's not traceable and you will use that. I forbid you to go back to your apartments—too dangerous."
"Outstanding." Hank nodded with approval.
Dwayne handed us an address and keys. He also handed us our fully reloaded and cleaned guns along with all the unused squirt guns.
"Memorize it and then eat the paper," Dwayne advised.
"Dude, I am not eating paper," I said as I quickly committed the address to memory.
"Fine," Dwayne said with a sniff. "The Cows will eat it. It's good fiber."
"You're going to need a few parenting books." God only knew what he was going to feed his new daughters since he didn't eat.
"Dwayne does not need any help," he said with a grin. "Most of what I do will send them to therapy anyway. I do not need a human book to help me with that."
"Point," I caved and laughed. "How did you do all this while we showered?" I asked as I strapped the squeaky clean weapons to my body.
"My girls did it," he answered proudly. "They're also bathing Granny and doing her hair. They kicked me out because I'm a man. I tried to explain that I'm gay and swore I wouldn't be ogling Granny's lady bits, but they were having none of it."
I couldn't love those Cows anymore if I tried. The Universe was working in bizarre ways and I decided to embrace it willingly.
"When she wakes," I said, refusing to add an if. "You need to find out why she didn't shift and defend herself. There's something missing here and we need to know what happened."