Were We Belong Page 18

  “GO,” my mom commanded.

  All Granny needed was an opening… and she got it.

  Flipping through the air like a tiny gymnast on crack, she flung herself at the female Demon and shoved a knitting needle into each eye socket. Granny quickly twisted the long needles and tackled Obizuth to the floor.

  “Help me move her to the circle,” she demanded. “Move your slowpoke asses!”

  It was a sloppy ballet as we moved clumsily under the direction of the pole-dancing stripper. I may be a Demon Hunter, but I had no clue what I was doing. If there was a school for this particular skill, I wasn’t going to skip a single day of it.

  As Obizuth lay screaming and writhing in the middle of the fire circle, I noticed that Belphegor had been wounded badly. Dwayne had the love of his undead life in his arms and was rocking him like a baby. Zeernebooch was seething in fury. He was clouded in so much black glitter I could barely make him out.

  “Essie,” my dad yelled. “Take my hand. Join us.”

  With a gentle push from Hank, I ran forward and then stopped dead in my tracks. “I have no clue what to do,” I cried out as Obizuth successfully pulled one of Granny’s needles out of her eye socket.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Reginald said, taking my hand and pulling me forward. “It’s in your blood.”

  “You knew?” I asked him.

  “Of course,” he replied with a tiny smirk. “I’m your dicky godfather.”

  “Join hands now,” my mom instructed as she reached into her pocket and tossed something that looked like flower petals into the fire.

  It went from black to icy white.

  “NOW,” she shouted.

  My mom, my dad, my godfather and my granny and me, all joined hands. I felt the power shoot up my arm immediately. My vision grew foggy. I gripped Reginald and my dad’s hands like my life depended on it… which it probably did.

  “Burn her to ash,” Zeernebooch growled as he watched dispassionately.

  “No. We will send her to Hell. Hell is more fitting,” my mom said.

  “But there is no actual Hell,” I volunteered just in case she didn’t know. I mean they had to be out of practice. They’d been stuck in feral wolf form for decades.

  “It’s actual,” my dad corrected me. “It’s just not physical. Trust me, Obizuth’s own personal Hell is a far worse fate than turning her to ash.”

  My family began to chant. I didn’t understand it, but I felt it deep in my bones. I found myself humming to the strange tune.

  Obizuth’s eyes grew wide with fury and hatred as she finally realized her fate. She fought it like a caged animal, but the circle was too strong. The pure white light of the fire coupled with the white candles and the white salt outweighed the darkness that the vicious She-Demon had brought with her.

  “Goodbye, bitch,” Zeernebooch growled as Obizuth’s flesh began to mottle and melt.

  I wanted to turn away, but I didn’t.

  “When the evil comes out from within, it destroys the beauty,” my father whispered as the Demon’s sharp fangs fell from her mouth.

  “Are we doing this?” I asked, horrified as she began to throw up black bile.

  “No, child,” Reginald said with a slight shudder as he squeezed my hand. “The true evil from within her is consuming her. I’ve never seen a hunt end like this.”

  Obizuth’s end only took ten minutes, but it felt like ten hours. As soon as my hands were free, I ran to Hank and buried my face in his strong chest.

  “Not sure I wanna take up Demon Hunting any time soon,” I whispered.

  “Good plan,” he replied, holding me like he would never let me go.

  A bloodied Belphegor limped over to the circle with the aid of his beloved Vampyre. The fire had gone out and his mother was gone.

  “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” he said flatly.

  Birdie and Chicken looked shell-shocked. I felt terrible.

  “Birdie, I am so sorry about this—about getting you and Chicken involved,” I told her.

  She glanced up at me in surprise and smiled. “I’m not, my friend. Obizuth was right about one thing and one thing only. Everything happens for a reason.”

  I sighed and leaned into Hank. Maybe Birdie—and Obizuth—were right.

  “We leave for a half hour and this happens?” Bob Harold said as he and his cohorts seemed to appear from out of nowhere.

  “Yep. Shit happens, dudes. I think we’re gonna need a clean up here and possibly a mind-wipe or three hundred,” I said.

  “We’ve already covered it,” Bob Herm said as he walked to the edge of the circle and stared at the goopy pile that was formerly Obizuth.

  “Yes,” Bob Harold said. “The massive fireworks explosion in the abandoned warehouse was quite the talk on the news this evening.”

  “You bastards are fast,” I commented with a smile.

  “Yes… well, we are the Bobs, after all,” Bob Hiram said. “Birdie, can your crew get a handle on this mess before the human authorities check it out?”

  “On it, Hiram,” she said.

  “Shiiiiiiit,” I said with a laugh. “Guess I’m not the only one who knows your names.”

  All three Bobs rolled their eyes in unison.

  “Whoops, my bad,” Birdie said with a grin and an adorable blush of embarrassment. “I’ll get my people right on it.”

  With a quick curtsey from Birdie and a bow from Chicken, the Pigeons flew away to gather a crew. Birdie’s slip made me wonder just how well she knew ol’ Bob Hiram though, honestly… I didn’t really want to know.

  “I’m calling in a few favors,” Dwayne said, still supporting a healing Belphegor on his good arm. “As of this day forward, Essie McGee Wilson and Hank Wilson will be moving their Council offices to Hung, Georgia. Their job will mainly be desk duty unless they choose of their own free will to take a mission.”

  All three of the Bobs grumbled with displeasure. I didn’t give a poop.

  “Is this what you want?” Bob Harold demanded of Hank and me.

  I looked at Hank. Hank looked at me. He held up ten fingers and waggled his brows. My grin grew wide and I’m pretty sure Hank’s pants grew tight.

  “Yep. That’s exactly what we want,” I told the Bobs while still staring deep into Hank’s beautiful eyes.

  “Fine,” Bob Herm groused. “Dwayne, your other demands?”

  Dwayne smiled and shrugged. “I’ll have to get back to you on those. And now that I’m on the Council, we’ll be seeing each other more often.”

  “Yes,” Bob Harold said stiffly. “Lovely.”

  “Bobbie Sue,” Zeernebooch said, looking a little pale. “When were you going to tell me you were a Demon Hunter?”

  “Umm… probably during a poke,” she replied with a grin. “You got a problem with that, Weiner Hooch?”

  “With a poke? Or the fact that you’re a Demon Hunter?”

  “Both,” she shot back, obscenely adjusting her traffic stoppers for his benefit.

  “Nope,” he said with a laugh. “No problem at all. However, I do have a question.” He turned to my mother and eyed her with curiosity. “Why did you spare me all those years ago?”

  My mom raised her brow and pursed her lips. “You remind me of someone.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  She looked to Granny. Granny’s expression was pure gold. She had put the puzzle together and she laughed. I still had no clue what was happening, but they did.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” she whispered, staring at Zeernebooch. “You remind her of her father. He was a wonderful man.”

  “And this is a good thing?” Zeernebooch asked carefully.

  “It’s a good thing,” my mother assured him. “It was that and the fact that you’re actually not that evil.”

  “Can you keep that last part to yourself?” Zeernebooch inquired, appalled. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

  “Will do,” my mom promised with a laugh.

  “Wait,” Zeernebooch said,
looking so forlorn I felt bad for him. “So you’re going to let me into your pants because I remind you of your former mate? Not because of my magnificent schlong?”

  Granny slapped him upside the head and he went flying. “My mate’s been gone for forty years, jackhole. You’re the first dork I’ve let touch my hooters in that entire time. If you ever insult me like that ever again, you’ll be sleeping in the doghouse. You feel me?”

  “Doghouse, as in a metaphorical doghouse?” he asked, getting to his feet, but keeping a healthy distance.

  “Nope,” I told him with glee. “Granny has a doghouse in her backyard. No dog, but she has the house.”

  “I see,” he said, casually working his way back to Granny’s side.

  “Are we done here?” Bob Harold inquired.

  “We are so done here,” I said. “Everybody, go home. For real this time.”

  Hank and I watched as some of the people we loved the most slowly filed out of what was left of the warehouse. It had been a long few days. We hadn’t slept and I was starving.

  “Tacos?” I asked with a giggle when it was only Hank and me left.

  “I was thinking about sex,” he shot back with a grin that made my insides tingle.

  “How about taco, sex, taco, sex, taco, sex, sex, sex?” I suggested.

  “I can work with that,” he said. “You ready?”

  I was born ready, baby.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  The tacos were great, but the sex was better.

  Sex was always good with the man of my dreams.

  Always.

  Epilogue

  An August evening had never been so beautiful. A light breeze blew through the leafy trees and the scent of roses filled the air. I leaned over to Hank, rested my head on his shoulder, and sighed with total contentment.

  “I love you,” he whispered against my hair.

  “Love you more,” I whispered back and then sat up straighter. We were finally getting to the good part.

  “Dwayne, do you take this Demon to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Preacher Moongie, Sandy’s dad, asked a blubbering and highly bejeweled Dwayne.

  Dwayne’s gown really was to die for—strapless and only a hint of beading. His arm had grown back perfectly. You’d never be able to guess that he’d lost it twice in one day only a month ago. The wedding gown hugged Dwayne’s tall, muscular body beautifully. Of course, he’d made up for the simplicity of the gown with an obscene diamond and ruby choker, huge diamond studs in his ears and a tiara on his bald head that would rival the Queen of England’s. He’d opted to go with no veil. He said they were tacky… oh, the irony.

  “I do,” he said gazing into Belphegor’s eyes with so much love I felt my own eyes fill.

  “And do you Belphegor take this Vampyre to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  Belphegor had chosen leather wedding attire… white leather—the tightest white leather pantsuit I’d ever seen. I had no clue how he’d been able to squeeze into it. It looked like it was painted onto his body. Since the color scheme was red and white, he’d chosen fabulous red combat boots to go with the skintight ensemble. Again, I was sad that we didn’t wear the same sized shoe. I would so rock those boots.

  “You bet I do,” Belphegor shouted to laughs from the small crowd gathered in Sadie and Jack’s beautifully decorated back yard.

  My mother-in-law had outdone herself. She was, hands down, the hostess with the most-est. Since Sadie didn’t get to throw Hank’s and my or Junior and Sandy’s weddings, she went all out and over the top for Dwayne’s. This was appropriate since Dwayne was all out—pun intended—and over the top.

  Several elaborate tents, covered in blood red roses, dotted the lawn. Gorgeous white parquet floors had been laid out in the tent that was reserved for dancing. Silver candelabras, surrounded by roses, held white candles and sparkled on the tables. And twinkling strings of white and red lights rimmed the peaks and gables of the tents. Long tables with pristine white tablecloths groaned under the weight of so many Juju’s pizzas, I couldn’t count them.

  Sadie had a shit fit when she realized Dwayne had secretly fired the caterer and replaced her elaborate ten-course menu with pizza, but it was Dwayne’s wedding and Dwayne got what Dwayne wanted. Since eating wasn’t his thing because he was dead, he felt like he’d get bored if dinner took three hours. Plus, everyone loved Juju’s pizza and Dwayne wanted happy guests.

  “Dwayne’s girls look… umm… clean,” Hank whispered in my ear with a chuckle.

  “Yep,” I said with a soft giggle.

  Hank was correct. They were impeccably groomed—I was fairly certain they’d even brushed their hair. Dwayne’s eight Were Cow daughters sat in the front row blubbering harder than Dwayne. They adored their adopted daddy. The gals would dismember and gore anyone who even looked cross-eyed at Dwayne—and they had some serious tusks when shifted. Of course, the rabid loyalty went both ways, as Dwayne would happily mind meld anyone who spoke ill of his babies. It was alarmingly beautiful.

  Each of the girls were dressed in white jean gauchos, flowy white tops and brand spanking new red tennis shoes. It was a sight to see. At least you could tell they were girls for the most part. Their other halves—or “the fuckers” as Dwayne liked to refer to his Vampyre sons-in-law—were all wearing red kilts and white shirts. That could be a serious problem once the dancing started.

  “If even one of those freaks turns a cartwheel and shows their junk at the reception, Dwayne will go apeshit on them,” I whispered to Hank.

  “Should be an interesting reception,” he shot back with a smirk so sexy, I wanted to jump his bones.

  We’d been back home for a month and I’d pretty much jumped his bones everyday… like several times a day. We were working on our own little pack. Hopefully, we would join Sandy and Junior in the parents-to-be club soon.

  “Can he kiss him yet?” Granny asked in her outdoor voice as she stood on the altar next to Dwayne as his best woman.

  Granny had gone all out and was sporting a red sequined low cut gown that covered her traffic stoppers… kind of. She looked like a high-class stripper—which was strangely appropriate. I just hoped she’d been joking about doing part of her act after the ceremony. But, knowing Granny, she wasn’t. Dwayne had a full-on Lady Gaga drag show planned for the reception. Even Reginald was in on it and slated to perform a Cher set. I wasn’t sure how Cher would look with a handlebar mustache, but I was looking forward to it with morbid fascination. I had my cell phone charged up and planned to video it for future blackmail purposes. My dicky godfather was coming out of his shell.

  Zeernebooch, stood up for his son but had not taken his eyes off of Granny’s partially exposed knockers for the entire ceremony. The fact that he was wearing a white leather pantsuit like Belphegor was slightly unsettling, but at least it wasn’t as tight as his son’s. However, his obsession with Granny’s traffic stoppers made it a little awkward when he had to find the rings, but the horny Demon somehow made it work.

  “Does the best man get to make out with the best woman when the groom and groom go at it?” Zeernebooch inquired of Preacher Moongie.

  “Umm… no,” Preacher Moongie told him with a polite smile as he tried not to laugh. “That’s not how it usually goes.”

  “My bad,” Zeernebooch said, smacking himself in the head before Granny could do it for him. “Not used to these religious ceremonies, being a Demon and all.”

  “Weiner Hooch, we can make out at the reception behind the bushes,” Granny assured him.

  “Works for me,” he bellowed, giving her a thumbs up.

  Zeernebooch had asked Granny to marry him four hundred times in the last month. She’d refused to answer him until he could get some of his outstanding warrants settled up. Turns out he was wanted in forty-nine states. Luckily Georgia was the only state that wasn’t currently holding a manhunt for him. Granny liked to travel. Having the FBI, CIA and every law enforcement unit in the country on her ass wasn�
�t her idea of a good time.

  Zeernebooch was working on it. Junior had caught him hacking into the FBI database. Even though he was the Sherriff of Hung, Junior usually let stuff like that slide—especially when family was involved. However, when he realized he was Zeernebooch was replacing his own name on the warrants with Bob Herm’s, Bob Harold’s and Bob Hiram’s, he put a quick stop to it. Zeernebooch and Junior had good laugh over it and then Junior locked him up in the pokey for five days.

  Zeernebooch was never going to change. Amazingly, Granny was just fine with that. She loved him, illegal activity and all. I suspected she would say yes to his many proposals soon. I knew she didn’t want to steal any of Dwayne’s thunder. She loved Dwayne like a son.

  “Oh my goodness,” Preacher Moongie said. “With all the excitement, I forgot one of the lines.”

  Dwayne patted the preacher on the back. “No worries. Just shove it in.”

  “Very well, if anyone of you has a reason why these two men should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Preacher Moongie said.

  “What kind of fucked up question is that?” Zeernebooch demanded, looking out at the crowd to see if anyone dared to say something that would ruin his son’s big day. “Because I will smite any bastard that says a word. DO YOU HEAR ME, PEOPLE?”

  “Pappy,” Belphegor said, shaking his head and grinning.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Zeernebooch asked, wildly unsure of himself.

  “No, Pappy. I appreciate your violent concern,” Belphegor replied. “But that’s just a normal part of the ceremony. It’s okay.”

  Zeernebooch mulled that one over for a moment in confusion. “Bobbie Sue, would you be opposed to living in sin?” he questioned. “These religious rules are alarming.”

  “We’re gettin’ married, Weiner Hooch,” she told him with a delighted laugh. “While livin’ in sin is nice, I want to own your evil ass.”

  “EXCELLENT, I want to own your traffic stoppers as well. However, I vote we get married in Georgia since I’m currently not wanted here.”

  “Of course you’re wanted here,” Sadie chimed in. “As long as you don’t go back to eating puppies, you are more than welcome on Hung Island.”