Wyvern and Company (14 page)

The vampires I could barely hear at all, they were so silent.
I worked hard to keep from making noise as we approached the building.

It didn't matter how careful we were, or how dark the night
was, or how thoroughly we'd planned our assault.

Something spooked the spawn inside the warehouse and before I
was ready, they came boiling out of all three entrances by the hundreds.

Chapter 8
 

Justin's Journal

Our game plan was destroyed before we could even implement it.
Dragon and Lion's short lesson helped a lot when spawn surrounded us. We formed
a circle—as tight as we could make it and still leave fighting room for our
neighbors.

After Mack sent mindspeech, I finally remembered to become
Wyvern. It was close, too, because Merrill's side, opposite ours, had already
been hit by spawn. I learned quickly that the experienced fighters, Merrill,
Radomir, Russell and Daniel, had faced the building, leaving the rest of us
scattered around the far side of the circle.

Will stood between Mack and me, while Teddy took up the space
on my other side. Kyle fought on Mack's other side, and I figured he and Will
were assigned to keep an eye on us.

"Watch out," Will shouted beside me as a wave of spawn
rolled in our direction. They'd found it impossible to get past Merrill's side,
so they pivoted around our circle, looking for a weaker spot to attack.

I knew Merrill and his force were making headway—I could hear
the rattle of spawn dust as it burst about them and sprayed eerily across
broken concrete. Daniel's growls punctuated his attacks, but the vampires didn't
make much noise unless it was to warn those fighting next to them.

"Heads up, Justin!" Teddy snapped as six spawn
thought to attack me at once.

Spawn taste nasty—there's no other way to describe it. I took
one head that way, while clawing at two others attempting to reach me.

The problem?

Three more climbed over the backs of the three I fought before
they dusted, and leapt on me. Will hissed and fought like a maniac, pulling
them off me and taking their heads.

Mack yelped—he'd been jumped, too. Kyle helped with that—he
was just as efficient a fighter as Will.

Teddy, fortunately, held his own for the most part, but I
could see that the spawn were targeting the weakest and more inexperienced
among us. More shoved forward, crowding us and forcing our circle to shrink and
tighten.

Did I think there were hundreds? Perhaps a thousand or more
still waited, and the ones in back were now crawling over the backs of those in
front of them, in an attempt to penetrate our circle and attack from the
inside.

"They're coming over the top," Will shouted as the
mass, like a pitcher of molasses, tipped over and spilled inside our fighting
ring.

I will never forget what happened next.

Fifty werewolves appeared behind our attackers, and they
growled and fought and tore into spawn as if they'd been doing it all their
lives.

The Dallas Pack had come to our rescue.

* * *

Two hours later, Mack and I sat in the Dallas FBI office,
wondering for the hundredth time how we'd ended up there. That's when Dad
walked out of one of the offices with Merrill and Radomir. Someone else strode
behind them.

Werewolf
, Mack sent after drawing a discreet breath.

"This is Agent Renfro, from the FBI," Merrill
introduced us. "He and Agent White, a vampire from the same special
division, had information on the warehouse we targeted. Unfortunately, they
flushed them out before we were ready, but the Dallas Pack was waiting to be
called in if necessary."

"We didn't know there were so many in there," Agent
Renfro said, shaking Mack's and my hand. "We've made arrangements to share
information—we have resources across the country and we may be in a position to
help you."

"I've given them a copy of your map, Justin," Dad
said. "They didn't know about Florida or some of the other places, yet."

"Are we finished for now?" A tall, dark-haired man sauntered
up to Renfro. He exuded confidence and his clothes and cowboy boots spelled
money. Lots of it.

"Thanks, Winkler. We wouldn't have made it without your
help," Renfro nodded at him.

Dallas Packmaster
, Dad informed me.
Extremely
important in the werewolf world
.

When can we go home?
I asked.

"You two ready to go home?" Dad asked aloud, to
answer my question. Mack and I were exhausted, and all I could think about when
I focused on our battle was how close we'd come to being overwhelmed.

"I'm ready," Mack stood stiffly. I rose beside him
and nodded at Dad.

"Friday?" Agent Renfro asked.

"That's the plan," Merrill agreed. "We'll meet
you at the designated position there."

"What's Friday?" I blurted. Yeah, it was the day
before my birthday, and I wanted to take Gina out.

"Florida," Dad said. My shoulders sagged as I nodded
my acceptance.

* * *

Adam's Journal

"I don't like this," Kiarra said as I pulled covers
back to climb in bed beside her. The clock said 4:03 a.m. The boys would have
to be up in three hours.

"Don't like what?" I settled in before pulling her
against me and laying her head on my shoulder.

"This. All of it. Justin could have gotten killed
tonight, Adam," she snapped.

"Dragon and I were prepared to go in. The Dallas Pack
beat us to the punch. We're allowed to protect our mates and family; that's
within the rules. We've discussed this already."

"You're not hearing me out," she countered. "It's
as if we're inside a play that's already been produced once, with a different
script. This time, I don't like the roles we've been assigned."

I considered that for a moment. Yes, something felt off, but I
really couldn't say why I thought that. "What do you suggest we do about
it, then?" I asked.

"I don't know," she mumbled, molding her body
against mine. That was my cue—her way of telling me she needed comforting.

"Come to me, my love. All will be well," I murmured
against her hair, hoping my words wouldn't become the lie I feared.

* * *

"I spoke with Merrill last night when he returned,"
Dragon informed me as we drank tea on the back deck the following morning.
Dragon had Falchani black in a cup, while I settled for my usual English variety.
"He says the spawn targeted the weakest of the group—your son, Mack and
Theodore Williams."

"That can't be," I said. "Spawn are pretty
mindless when they fight."

"He also says they cooperated to pull part of their
numbers over the heads of our fighters and into the circle," Dragon went
on.

"Are you sure?" I frowned. "That's never
happened before."

"It concerns me greatly," he said. I knew he was
filling in for my wife—as Second among the Saa Thalarr, that was his job if she
became incapacitated. Her pregnancy would ensure that in roughly two weeks. "I've
been fighting Ra'Ak and their spawn for more than fifteen thousand years, and
this has never happened before. Either we're seeing a new strain of spawn, or a
hand of power is interfering in this."

"Why is it happening now?" I asked.

"Why is it happening here?" he countered. "We've
had this discussion. It seems the enemy has its eye on this world for some
reason, and we cannot guess as to why that is or what it means."

"It is my hope that this is a singularity," Pheligar
appeared and fashioned a chair large enough for himself with power.

"Kiarra said last night that it felt as if the play has
already been done once, with a different playbook," I said.

"That is why we are ad-libbing for this," the
Larentii nodded. "We make waves. Small waves can become larger waves, and
eventually have an impact on all," he shrugged.

"A Larentii, ad-libbing? That's outstanding," Lion
appeared and took an empty deck chair to join our conversation.

"Are you making light of a serious situation?"
Pheligar asked him.

"Oh, no," Lion held up a hand. "I just never
expected the term
ad-libbing
to ever leave your mouth."

"I used it because it was simple enough for you to
understand."

"Oh, here we go with the insults," Lion grumbled.

"Stating fact should never be perceived as an insult,"
Pheligar huffed.

"And the logic gun is fired," Lion countered.

"Yet you keep stepping out of the way before it hits you,"
Pheligar claimed.

"Are you fighting?" Kiarra walked through the French
doors at our back and shut them behind her. She patted Lion's shoulder as she
passed him, then stopped behind Pheligar and rubbed his back carefully.

I blinked—only my wife was brave enough to put her hands on
Pheligar; he might separate the atoms of anyone else who tried. Oddly enough,
when she kneaded the back of his neck and the tops of his shoulders, he closed
his eyes in pleasure.

That's something you don't see every day
, Lion sent.

I had to turn my head so he wouldn't see me smile. It was
obvious—the Larentii was worried and cranky as a result. I had no idea until
that moment that any Larentii might have tense muscles because he was stressed.

To me, that meant we were in infinitely more trouble than we
thought.

* * *

Justin's Journal

School Wednesday morning turned into torture as Mack and I
struggled to stay awake. I realized that Dad faced this same agony—holding down
a business and answering calls to fight spawn or the monster Ra'Ak that made
spawn.

My job had turned dangerous enough; his—and Mom's—was worse.

I know my fellow students in high school always talked about
graduating and finding a job, or going to college and then finding a job, but
the word
job
held little meaning to anyone who hadn't really worked one
already.

Sure, I worked for Dad during summers and some weekends in the
school year, but that had never been serious. This—this was mind-bendingly
serious and my life, as well as the lives of others, depended on how well I did
that job.

Gina knew what holding a job entailed—she worked as a
waitress, a tough job by anybody's standards, so she could go to college. She
probably intended to work while going to college, too.

I'd never been faced with that particular dilemma—I had a
college fund. My new job, as it turned out, was too important to quit, no
matter how I felt about it.

Mack and I—we were saving lives. I almost choked when that
realization hit me. A coughing fit ensued.

"Justin, do you need a drink of water?" Joey stopped
teaching for a moment to ask.

"Yeah. If you don't mind," I choked out.

"Go ahead," he nodded toward the door. I loped from
the room, heading toward the kitchen.

"Justin?" Marlianna stood in our kitchen, pouring a
glass of orange juice.

"Glass of water," I held up a hand and walked toward
the cabinet. "Got choked," I added after filling a glass with water
and downing half of it. "How are you?" I asked.

"Good," she smiled. "We ran out of orange
juice, so you mother sent mindspeech, telling me to help myself," she
said. "That means we need to make a trip to the grocery store later."

"Yeah. Ran out of crackers yesterday," I agreed. "Mack
likes those with a half-ton of peanut butter."

"He's growing, now that the werewolf has made his
presence known," she said. "He'll get as tall as his father before it's
over."

"Mr. Walters is six-two," I said.

"Mack will need new clothing soon," Marlianna gave
me another smile.

"You know, I'm really glad you're here," I said. "You
and Uncle Lion both."

"Why, thank you, sweetheart," she said and gave me a
hug. "You should go back, now, before Joey comes looking for you."

"Yeah. My head's kinda muddled today," I said.

"Short night," she pushed hair off my forehead with
gentle fingers. "Eat a quick lunch and grab a nap in between," she
said.

"Will do." I turned and headed back to school.

* * *

Adam's Journal

"Justin's birthday is Saturday," Kiarra pointed out
later, as she put sandwiches together for the kids. I knew Gina and Sarah's
mother had offered to pay for any lunches we provided, but we turned them down.
Kiarra told Marie Allen that she was happy to do it, and that was that.

"I know. And he's expected in Florida the night before. I
say we let the boys sleep late, then have the party at dinner time."

"I asked Gina about dinner Saturday," she frowned at
me. "She has to work. She was really disappointed, too."

"What about the party on Sunday, then, with gifts the day
before?"

"Sounds good," she said.

"What am I getting for my birthday?" I draped an arm
around her shoulders.

"You put in a request. I'm handling that," she
sniffed and moved away.

"Ah. I forgot about that," I said. "
How
are you handling that?"

"I asked Wolf and Tiger to go with me shortly after we
got back from the beach house," she said.

"Good," I nodded. "How is Grey House?"

"Fine. Raffian is still snippy, but Glendes is a
gentleman."

"That's what you get when you tell the most talented K'Shoufa
jeweler to kiss your ass and take his M'Fiyah with him," I pointed out.

"I won't marry an insufferable prick," she muttered
and piled fresh-cut tomatoes atop ham and roast beef.

"Then I'm glad I don't fit that category," I said.

"You've come close a time or two."

"Hey, now," I protested.

"Glendes said he'd personally take care of my order,"
she said. "That means Raffian will probably do the design and spelling,
but Glendes will check it afterward. Because he owes me," she added,
placing a toasted bread slice on each sandwich to finish it. "Grab the
chips," she said. "The soup's ready, I just have to dip it into
bowls."

* * *

Justin's Journal

"My dad was killed in Afghanistan," Gina told Mom
while we ate. "Helicopter crash. His body and three others weren't
recovered."

"Honey, that's terrible," Mom said. "Your
mother must have been devastated."