Okay, I was wrong. Flying with the Pigeons was not better than transporting with the Demons. It sucked all kinds of butt.

I was sure I’d swallowed a hundred bugs and Birdie had neglected to tell us they liked to poop while flying. We were all a freakin’ mess. Well, all of us except Dwayne and Granny. As Vampyres, they had the gift of flight. I should have jumped on Granny’s back for the ride. Hindsight was 20-20… and, evidently also poop free.

“I’m wearing bird shit,” Zeernebooch announced, wrinkling his nose. “Not working for me.”

With a wiggle of his fingers and a blast of black glitter, we were all clean and spiffy. He’d even fixed my hair that had only moments ago looked like a bird’s nest—which was apropos considering the company we were keeping.

“Sweet bird feathers on fire,” Birdie said softly as she saw the piles of dead. “This is not right. These people need a proper burial. No one was meant to go on to the afterlife like this.”

She was right. I glanced over at Hank who nodded tightly.

“We’ll bury them when this is over,” I promised her. “We will take them back to Alabama and do it right.”

“Are they evidence?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.

For being so violent, Birdie was a sensitive soul. But I understood. These victims were not bad guys. They were innocents who’d been led into a deadly trap.

“They’re not evidence anymore,” Hank told her. “We just haven’t had the time to do right by them yet.”

Birdie cleared her throat and swiped at her tears. “They were broken in life by that bastard Giles Giles and now they’re broken in death. They didn’t do anything except get born into the wrong pack. It’s a damned shame,” she whispered as she knelt down and gently placed a dismembered arm on top of a torso. “If they’re not evidence, do you mind if I let my flock take care of this? We can get them delivered back to Alabama in no time flat.”

“I’m getting emotional here,” Zeernebooch muttered with an eye roll. “I don’t really enjoy getting emotional.”

“That would be a lovely thing to do,” I said as I knelt down next to her and ignored the Demon’s discomfort.

She nodded and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her bright green coveralls. “Me and my brother Chicken will stay with you since you might need to call Obizuth. We’re the best there is as far as Demon retrieving. The rest of my flock will remove and bury the dead.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hank said softly, putting his hand on Birdie’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Reginald’s phone rang as Birdie signaled to her flock. Within five minutes, the warehouse was filled with at least a hundred Pigeons all dressed identically to Birdie and her brother, Chicken. They were swift and reverent as they placed the torn apart bodies in tarps and carefully loaded them into a Mack truck that had appeared at the back entrance of the warehouse.

“Don’t drive over the speed limit,” Birdie warned her people. “Getting pulled over with this load means explaining a lot of shit that can’t be explained.”

Chicken patted his sister’s back and addressed the flock. “About twenty-five of you fly ahead and watch for cops. The address has been put in the GPS. You know what to do when you get there.”

“We do,” the flock chirped, bowing their heads to both Birdie and Chicken.

“Be safe,” Birdie said. “Your leaders love and respect you.”

The Pigeons exchanged hugs and good wishes, and then they were gone. The entire removal had taken about an hour. Unreal.

“For such a violent species, they’re awfully lovey-dovey,” Zeernebooch commented as he watched Birdie hug the last to leave.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Belphegor said, sniffling.

“If I had bodily functions, I’d be sobbing,” Dwayne said, leaning on Belphegor.

“I feel better,” Birdie announced as she checked her watch for the time. “It’s noon. What the plan?”

“We’re waiting,” I told her. “We need to give the Dragons and the Werewolves time to see if they can find the missing pack, Giles Giles, and the Tinas.”

“Be a damned good thing if they could,” Chicken said. “Obizuth is not a demon that we really like to mess with.”

“Agreed,” Zeernebooch said. “She’s evil. And trust me, I know evil.”

“Clark and Jones just checked in,” Reginald said as he put his phone back into the breast pocket of his suit. “Nothing yet.”

“Are they onto anything?” I asked in frustration. With all the talk about how horrifying Obizuth was, I really wanted to avoid having to call her in. Clark and Jones finding the fugitives was our best bet at living till tomorrow.

“No. Not yet,” he replied, clearly texting the Bobs with the updates.

Shitshitshit.

“I’ve got Junior on the line,” Hank said, pressing his speakerphone so we could all hear.

“Goddurnit, it’s a ball-eatin’ shit show here in Alabama,” he bellowed through the line. “The Dragons have rounded up about a hundred and the Georgia pack has found about fifty.”

“Are they okay?” I asked, wondering about the state they’d been found in.

“Define okay,” Junior said with a snort of disgust. “All of ‘em are starving and disoriented—bags of bones. We’re trying to get some food in ’em, but they keep chattering about the next meeting point.”

“Meaning?” Hank demanded.

“Not quite sure,” Junior said. “Said they’re waitin’ for the word from their master for the next location to go to Paradise. Pretty dang fucked up if you ask me.”

“Oh my god,” I said as the bile rose in my throat. “Giles Giles is telling them that the Devil’s Lettuce is the path to Paradise. He’s killing his own people outright.”

“It’s like a farked up cult led by the scum of the earth,” Granny hissed. “The sumbitch isn’t just gonna kill his own pack. If he succeeds in revealing us, we’re all goin’ bye-bye.”

“Unacceptable,” Zeernebooch shouted. “I haven’t boned Bobbie Sue yet.”

“I’m a little bummed about that myself,” Granny admitted.

“There’s still time—to find them—not to get laid,” I clarified just in case Granny and Zeernebooch misunderstood and decided to go at it in public. I had to be positive even though I felt anything but.

“Once we find the bastard and his gal pals, I would be seriously delighted to deliver them to Satan,” Zeernebooch announced as his horns popped out. “He’s wonderful with punishment.”

“Understatement,” Belphegor said.

“Maybe,” I told Zeernebooch. “We have to find them first. Have you come across Clark and Jones?” I called out to Junior.

“ʼBout two hours ago,” he confirmed. “Those boys are on the hunt like their lives depended on it.”

“Their lives do depend on it,” I muttered, running my hands through my hair. “Could any of the Alabama pack tell you where the next meeting place is?”

“Nope,” Junior said. “But we’ll keep asking. We’ve got human FBI crawling around all over Alabama—kinda like they know something’s up. Avoiding ʼem is gettin’ dicey. Need to find the remaining fifty or so, but those crazy-assed Dragons will do it. Nicolai keeps going on about tacos. Think the boy has lost his mind. No matter though, he’s one hell of a motherhumpin’ bloodhound.”

I let myself smile for a brief moment. I, too, would love a taco. If that’s what it took to motivate Nicolai, then that was cool. I would do a lot for one of those tacos right now.

“Dwayne, can you send the Vampyre crew to Alabama?” Reginald asked, texting like a madman on his phone. “Seems like the FBI have been given some kind of heads up on a supernatural phenomenon. We will need some massive mind-wiping there.”

“On it,” Dwayne said, pressing his fingers to his temples and levitating all the way to the top very high ceiling.

As he chanted in a melodic tune, crystals of silver magic rained down over us. The formerly blood encrusted floor now looked like it was in a castle for a princess. The more he chanted the more magical the warehouse became. I closed my eyes and let Dwayne’s enchantment surround and comfort me.

“Done,” my BFF said as he floated back down to solid ground. “They’re quite excited and I was very clear that the FBI is not on the snack list.”

“Excellent,” Reginald said with a wince.

“No worries,” Dwayne assured him. “Much to my horror, I’m their father-in-law even though some of the sons of bitches are older than me. Luckily, I terrify them. It’s wonderful.”

“Good work,” Granny said, giving Dwayne a kiss on the cheek. “You’re such a good boy.”

“What about me?” Belphegor asked, pointing to his own cheek with a giggle.

Granny didn’t disappoint. She gave Belphegor a sweet peck on the cheek. “You’re a good boy too.”

“And me?” Zeernebooch inquired, going to unzip his pants for his smooch. “Am I a good boy?”

“Stop,” I shouted. “Do not pull your wiener out. Do you understand me?”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, completely oblivious to his almost pornographic blunder.

“Umm… you almost lost a point, Weiner Hooch,” Granny said, smacking him on the right side of the head as Birdie snacked him on the left.

“For the love of everything illegal,” he bellowed as he ducked the next round of smacks. “I just don’t understand the rules here.”

“Clearly,” I muttered, relieved not to be treated to the Zeernebooch Schlong Show. There was only so much I could take.

“What the ever-lovin’ hell is goin’ on there?” Junior asked with a laugh.

“You don’t want to know,” Hank told his brother. “Keep the line open, Junior. Let me know when you find the others and if anyone is clued into the next meeting place.”

“That would save some time and lives,” Birdie said with her hand still raised to belt Zeernebooch if he got out of line again. “If we could ambush the bastards this would be over quick.”

“Is that you Birdie?” Junior asked.

“Sure is, boy! How ya doing?” she said with a warm smile on her lips.

“Been better,” Junior replied with a humorless laugh. “But dang happy that you’re on the team.”

“Honored to be a part of it. You on for gaming next week?” she asked.

“You bet your feathered butt I am,” Junior shouted. “Don’t go gettin’ killed. I plan to win your money next Tuesday. You hear me, Pigeon?”

“I hear ya, Werewolf,” she shot back with a laugh. “Good luck on getting a penny out of me, sucker.”

Junior’s belly laugh bounced through the cavernous room. His joy was like a light in a very dark tunnel.

“All right, I’m out, Bro-bro. I’ll keep you posted and you do the same.”

“Will do,” Hank said, smiling despite the tension he was feeling.

“Soooo, what do we do now?” Birdie asked.

“We wait,” I said, pulling on my hair in frustration. “We wait to see if Clark and Jones come through. At least we’re finding the pack. Even if another Jazz Cabbage shit show was planned for tonight, Giles Giles won’t be able to murder his own people.”

“How long we gonna wait?” Granny asked as she took Zeernebooch’s hand in hers.

I was just glad to see that his fly was zipped.

The Demon was positively ecstatic to be holding hands. He had it bad for my granny and it was looking like she had it bad for him. For a brief moment, I wondered again why my mother had spared Zeernebooch’s life. It didn’t matter, but I was sure as hell glad she did. I’d never seen Granny so happy.

And the wait began.