"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.
"Get up, girlie, but stay over there in case I do something weird—not quite feeling like myself. I could eat the entire spread at Burt's Buffet and Karaoke," a ragged and beloved voice called from the bed. "What in the hell am I wearing and where am I?"
My eyes filled and my voice caught in my throat. I stayed put, but it was difficult. She looked bad, but she was as alive as a dead person could be and she was talking. Good—this was very good.
"It's Prada," Dwayne said with so much relief in his melodic voice I calmed down. "Or it least it was before you destroyed it, old lady."
"Who you callin' old, you bald-headed bloodsucker," Granny grunted as she tried to sit up and fell backwards immediately. "You wanna tell me why I wanna bite you and feel like I've been put through a paper shredder?"
"You don't remember?" Hank asked as he took a tentative step toward my granny, only to be blocked by concerned Cows.
She looked over at us in confusion and my gut tightened. Did she recognize Hank? Or me?
"You're a fine-looking young man," she said as she squinted at him. "I know you, but I can't quite place you, sugar."
"What about me?" I asked louder than I intended. I stepped forward and pushed my way past the Cows. If she bit me and drained me, it would be no less than I deserved. "Do you know me?"
"I do, Essie," she said slowly as she ran her hands nervously through her hair. "Where are your mamma and daddy? Are they with you? Did you find them? They'll be so excited to see you."
I closed my eyes and forced a smile. She knew me, but it was all jumbled. She didn't remember my parents were dead and I didn't think now was the right time to tell her. I was still unclear exactly what she was… a Wolf slash Vampyre—a Vampyre only? It didn't really matter as long as she was still here. Hopefully, she would remember everything. If she didn't, she didn't. I still wanted to know why she didn't defend herself from the feral Wolves, but I might never know the truth behind that one.