"I haven't seen them for a bit, but I'm looking for them," I told her. It wasn't even a lie. I was looking for what happened to my parents and I would make the person responsible for their death pay. "I want to hug you. Would that be okay?" I asked in a voice that sounded small and childlike to my own ears. Hank's hand on my back felt good this time. I needed him.
She looked to Dwayne for confirmation that she wouldn't hurt me. "What am I?" she asked.
Dwayne tilted his head to the side and grinned. "You're perfect. Not quite sure how we'll define you yet, but I can say with certainty you are one of a kind."
"I was always one of a kind," Granny informed the entire room. "Anyone wanna tell me why a gaggle of dead guys are flying over my head? And yes, Essie, I would very much like a hug from you. However, if I bite you please feel free to punch me in the head. Hard."
"Um… okay," I said as I carefully approached.
"Am I really okay to be near her?" Granny asked Dwayne. There was fear written on her face.
"Yes," he promised. "And I will be right here to deck your skinny old ass if you do anything out of the ordinary."
"Thank you," she said as she squeezed him lovingly. "Get over here, little girl, and bring your good lookin' lug with you. He looks like he's gonna have a heart attack if you leave his side."
"It's Hank, Granny. He's my mate," I told her as I crawled up on the bed and got close.
She put her hands to her temples and closed her eyes. "I remember. Alpha. Sheriff. Gave it all up because he loves my girl so much he can't live without her… Hank," she said with such relief in her voice I almost cried.
"That's right, Granny," I said as I took her very cold hand in mine.
Was this her new temperature? Whatever—cold hands, warm heart. Or dead heart… whatever.
"I died, didn't I? And Dwayne brought me back?" she asked as she held tight to my hand.
I nodded, not sure what I could say and not say. The last thing I wanted to do was upset her.
"I can't remember any more than that," she snapped, frustrated. "Why can't I remember?"
"Well," Dwayne said logically. "It's common to block out unpleasant things, like how you died. It will probably all come roaring back at a dinner party or the mall—someplace totally inconvenient and embarrassing. It’s what happened to me and don't even ask Vlad what he experienced," Dwayne said as he pointed to a good-looking dead dude flying along the perimeter of the room.
"Oh dear god, it was awful. I'm still in therapy and it happened eight hundred years ago," Vlad told us with a shudder and a groan.
While curious about Vlad, it wasn't the time or the place to get into it. I just wanted Granny to be okay. If she needed therapy, I would get her therapy. I'd get her whatever she needed.
"Sweet Baby Jesus in a thong," she muttered as she squeezed my hand. "Maybe amnesia is the way to go. Essie, just hold my hand, baby. I'm a little nervous about being too close to your neck."
"Roger that," I said as I squeezed her hand back.
If I was honest, I was a little nervous too. I could feel Hank's freaked out emotions coming off of him in waves.
"Alrightyroo," Dwayne said as he hopped off the bed, dragging me with him. "I want my girls to feed Granny. Vamps, if it gets back to me that you have touched any of my daughters’ asses again I will remove your hands. Literally."
"Daddy," Pat said sheepishly. "I told Vlad he could touch my butt."
Dwayne was at a loss. His girls were growing up fast. I watched him seriously consider having a hissy fit and then decide against it. "Well, fine then," he huffed, giving a gloating Vlad the evil eye. "If you want your bottom defiled by a Vampyre, so be it."
"Thank you," Pat said, missing all of the passive aggression Dwayne was throwing at the floating Vamps.
With an eye roll and a put upon sigh, Dwayne steered Hank, Dima and myself out of the room.
"Where are we going?" I asked as I waved bye to Granny.
"We're going to Dima's room. I've been curious about her room for forty years," Dwayne said.
"I'm sorry, what?" Dima gasped and almost fell to the ground.
"Don't be coy. It doesn't become you," Dwayne said dismissively. "I've never gone in. I have respect for other's property… unlike others I know."
"You know about my room?" She was positively flabbergasted.
"When you walked in I recognized your scent," he said as he led the way down a maze of hallways.
"But I've never seen you here."
"And I've never seen you, but I'm a Vamp. I know when someone has been in my home. Actually, quite a few of you have traipsed through, but you stayed. I wondered what you would look like. Your scent is lovely."
"I suppose I should say thank you and sorry at the same time," she mumbled as she continued to get paler and paler as we got closer to her hoard.
"You're welcome and no problem," Dwayne replied as we rounded a corner and Dima fell to her knees.
"You have to understand what's in the room is not evil. I know this is not my home, but I will kill any of you who try to harm my hoard," she said as she crawled to a wall, stood and plastered herself against it.
"What the hell is in there?" I muttered.