Some Were In Time (4 page)

"It's gonna take more than a week—
give or take a few days
, to get rid of your well-earned reputation," I told him.

"Two weeks?" he asked.

"Um… more like a year or so," Granny informed him.

"Dang it, I don't have a year," Junior grumbled as he stood up and accidently knocked everything off of his desk. He paced the office and we all backed up. Junior was huge and dangerously clumsy when he was agitated. "Some dumbass Were dude could snap her up in that time."

"Guess you should have thought about that when you were doing the horizontal hula with half of Georgia," Dwayne offered unhelpfully.

"Oh my hell," Junior said as he sat back down and dropped his head into his hands. "I'm gonna have to dedicate every waking minute I have to getting Sandy to believe I've finished my man hooker phase."

"He's really off the charts MENSA?" Dwayne whispered skeptically.

We all watched Junior scribble out a list of how he was going to get rid of his gigolo rep.

"Yep," I whispered back. "He's brilliant."

"Junior, you chatted with Hank yet?" Granny inquired as she sat down next to him and started her own list to help him out.

"Nope, you guys just got back two days ago. He told me we'd talk later today," Junior said as he peeked over at Granny's list and gasped. "Would I have to go to church and confess my sins? Sandy's dad is the preacher. I just feel that that might a little awkward and potentially deadly after we mate and all."

"Hell's bells, you're right, Junior. Preacher Moongie would skin you alive," she agreed as she crossed that one off the list. "You might not know how to keep your possum in your pants, but you're a nice boy. You don't deserve to die because you can't keep your flesh sword in your grundies."

"Thank you," he said.

"Welcome."

"Is it time for me to do my community service at the shop?" Dwayne asked as he bounced up and down like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Don't you want to know if Junior can hack?" I reminded him.

"Oh dear god, yes," Dwayne said as he slipped his heels back on. "Junior, I have a little bitty problem on my hands."

"Potentially a cluster womper of epic proportions," Granny added.

"Yes," Dwayne admitted. "It seems like I might have posed as a priest a couple hundred years ago and might have accidentally performed an illegal wedding. It was an oversight on my part. I was so excited to get to wear something that resembled a dress without getting my ass kicked that I possibly got carried away."

"You lost me," Junior said.

"I performed an unlicensed and illegal wedding between two… umm…" Dwayne was at a loss.

"Two what?" Junior asked.

"Cows," Dwayne choked out.

"So what?" Junior said with a laugh and a shrug. "Two cows can't get married in Georgia. That would be a gay marriage. And let me go on record and say I'm all for gay marriage. However, for it to be legal it would have to be a cow and a bull, and as far as I know most people don't hold weddings for their farm animals. Bulls are bigger man whores than me. Old Farmer McDonald only has one bull and about thirty cows. That son of a bovine gets around."

"He's really MENSA?" Dwayne asked again.

"Yep," Junior said sadly. "But don't spread it around. It hurts my rep with the ladies."

"Oh my god," I huffed as I sat down, knowing this was going to take a while. "I thought you were giving up the ladies for Sandy."

"Sweet Jesus, you're right." Junior slapped his head and scribbled a few more to do's on his list. "I'm gonna take out an ad in the paper about my brains."

"That's an alarmingly fantastic idea," Dwayne said kindly. "But I'm not talking about farm animals. I unlawfully wedded two Were Cows."

The silence was deafening as we watched Junior take in what Dwayne had said.

Junior's laugh when he relaxed was large and loud. "You almost got me. You are one slick Vamp." Junior shook his head and slapped his knee, knocking the coffee maker into the water cooler.

"Not joking here," Dwayne said without a trace of humor on his beautiful undead face.

"He's really not," Granny added as she put an arm around Dwayne.

Junior was up and pacing again. I pulled my feet up so he didn't step on them and break my toes. Of course they would heal quickly, but it would hurt. He stopped and stared at the wall for a full minute. We stayed silent and watched. His burst of movement scared the hell out of all of us as he ran to his computer and punched keys a mile a minute.

Granny patted Dwayne's bald head as he heaved a huge and dramatic sigh, which was ridiculous because Vampyres didn't breathe. For having such huge fingers, Junior typed faster than anyone I'd ever seen.

"Holy sheeeeeot," he said as he wiped some sweat from his brow. "You might be in luck. They seem to be extinct."

"Are you sure?" Dwayne asked hopefully.

"Not entirely," he admitted as he scrolled the site he was on. "I'll have to hack into some more databases to be sure."

"Okay, let me get this straight," I said sarcastically. "A species of Were I did not know existed is now extinct? How in the hell does a Were species go extinct?"

"Apparently the female Cow often ate the male after he impregnated her," Junior read from the screen. "God dang, that's sick," he muttered. "They didn't even kill the poor bastards before they ate them—chowed down while they were still kickin'. After a while it seems they ran out of males and they became a lesbian society. That served to be a problem as far as numbers went."

I was really grateful I hadn't eaten any lunch because my stomach was churning.

"Thank Tina Louise, that is fabulous news," Dwayne said as he dropped down on a chair and let his head fall back on his shoulders. "Death by bovine tusk is so messy."

"They have tusks?" I asked yet another question I didn't really want the answer to.

"Had. Had tusks," Dwayne corrected me.

"That's not definitive though, is it, Junior?" Granny asked quietly.

"I'm gonna have to do a little more research, but it looks pretty good that they died off."

"How long is the extra research gonna take?" Granny asked.

"Don't know—a few weeks possibly," he said. "I'll have to call in some geek favors on this one."

"I'll pay you," Dwayne offered.

"Hell to the no." Junior chuckled. "You're my sister-in-law's best friend and her man of honor in the wedding. I consider this family duty."

There was silence.

Blessed silence.

And then there was blubbering.

Again.

"I do not know what I did to deserve this kind of love," Dwayne sobbed. "I love all of you so much it makes my fangs hurt. Junior, I would like to give you the gift of some of my blood."

"No," I yelled as I dove across the room and sat on Dwayne before he opened up a vein for Junior.

When we had gotten ready to take down the Dragons, Dwayne had made me drink some of his blood. It made me stronger and my sense of smell had kicked into overdrive. However, it also enabled me to rip the head off a Dragon with my bare hands without even realizing I had done it. In the end it was what saved Hank's and my life, but it was scary and wrong—and it still hadn't left my system. Dwayne thought it would only last a few days, but we were going on a few weeks at this point and I still felt the residual effects.

"No blood exchange," I said firmly. "A nice waffle iron will suffice."

"Or a new coffee pot," Granny suggested as she eyed the one Junior had just demolished.

"How about a Hummer?" Dwayne asked.

"Oh my god, Dwayne, that is so inappropriate," I yelled.

"What?" he asked, bewildered. "I was talking about a car."

"Oh. Sorry," I muttered.

"Anyhoo," Granny interjected, saving me from myself and my dirty mind. "I think it's time for the shoplifting Vampyre to do his community service. Let's go, bloodsucker," she said affectionately to Dwayne. "Those Were Weasels will have no idea what hit them."

"Looks like I missed a party," a very familiar and insanely sexy voice said from the doorway as he took in the mess with a shake of his head. "Junior, you're gonna need to reel it in."

"Little bro bro," Junior yelled as he trapped Hank in a bear hug. "I've missed you and your judgmental ass."

"Missed you too," Hank told him as he disengaged himself and copped a quick feel of my rear end. "You got time to talk?"

"Yep," Junior said as he discreetly tried to pick up the office.

"I have to go run the bridal shop because I stole some shoes," Dwayne announced with delight. He was positively orgasmic about his community service. "Come on. Granny. We have work to do."

Dwayne flounced out of the sheriff's office with a giggling Granny following behind him.

"Should I even ask?" Hank inquired with a wince.

"Nope." I grinned and settled myself on his lap.

"So what's the scoop?" Junior asked as he sat back down behind the desk.

"Well, first off I want to know if you'll be my best man in the wedding," Hank asked.

"I'd be honored, my brother," he answered with emotion.

I felt my throat get tight and I was so happy I was witnessing this moment—a moment I never thought would come. I had stupidly and mistakenly thought Hank had cheated on me and had left Hung Island without talking to him. I was impulsive like that. However, I'd grown up in the year I was away and had become an accomplished agent for the WTF. I was now a deadly fighting machine and I still got my guy. Irony of all ironies, Hank had also secretly joined WTF because he thought I wasn't coming back. Now we both were owned and employed by our governing Council. Hence the talk with Junior…

"I understand that Dwayne is wearing a dress," Junior said cautiously. "While I think that is brave and appalling, I just want to put it out there that… "

"You'll be in a tux, man," Hank said quickly.

"Thank Jesus." Junior heaved a huge sigh of relief and I bit back my laugh. The thought of Junior in a dress was so wrong it was awesome.

"So what else you got?" he asked Hank.

Hank gently moved me off his lap and went to his brother.

"It's come time for you to step up to your rightful place," he said quietly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Junior yelled as he jumped to his feet, taking the bookshelf behind him down. "I have a list." He shoved the paper in Hank's face. "I have to bag Sandy Moongie… Wait." He groaned and slapped himself in the head. "I do not mean bag. I mean, I do mean bag, but not until we've gone on at least two dates." He glanced over at me for approval.

"Fifteen dates and I'm being conservative," I said.

"Are you serious?" he shouted. "This is going to be harder than I thought. Maybe I should confess to her father."

"Confess what?" Hank asked, bewildered.

"My sins."

"Holy shit." Hank whistled and laughed. "You're a dead man walking."

"I know," Junior said morosely. "Now do you understand why this is a
really
bad time for me to become the Alpha and sheriff?"

"I'm WTF now. I can't be the alpha anymore," Hank said.

"What the hell? When did you join the Werewolf Treaty Federation?" Junior demanded as he realized the ramifications of Hank's enlistment.

"About a year ago—right after Essie did."

"Did you know about this?" Junior asked in a high-pitched voice as he rambled around the office leaving disaster in his wake.

"Only for a week," I admitted.

"Wait, so you went to Chicago and joined WTF? What did you do—stalk Essie for a year?"

"Pretty much," I said as Hank shrugged and grinned at me.

"Wow, that's kinda hot," Junior said grudgingly.

"Right?" I agreed.

"We have a mission and we leave in three days," Hank told a now pale Junior.

"Son of a beeotch," Junior muttered as he dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. "This just sucks."

"Junior, you're ready," Hank said firmly. "You've been ready for a while, but you never would have challenged me. This is the way it should be. You're fair, smarter than hell and deadly. The Georgia Pack will be lucky to have you."

"Do you think being Alpha will help me get Sandy?" he asked, totally serious.

"Oh my god," I mumbled wondering if an Alpha that thought with his wanker was going to be a huge clusterhump.

"Um… possibly, but you're gonna have to put Sandy on the back burner for a while," Hank told him. "You have to have your shit together to lead the Wolves and all the other Weres in Georgia. Your pecker is going to have to stay in your pants."