“No, Belphie,” Dwayne hissed with an eye roll as he circled his finger in the air making the international crazy motion for our benefit. “And don’t ask me that again.”

Tension filled my body. Even the summer breeze blowing gently through the fragrant meadow did nothing to calm my nerves. The urge to shift and run until I was too exhausted to think was overwhelming.

I could feel the stress rolling off my family and friends as we watched Dwayne pace erratically. The potential for this plan to work was slim. The possibility of starting a Zombie apocalypse was large.

I’d seen the movies. That would totally suck. However, the prospect of even more gruesome deaths and the danger of revealing Weres to the human population were devastating.

The phone call had been going on for twenty-five bizarre minutes. Belphegor had finally been located in Hell’s Half Acre, Kentucky. According to whispers from a manically typing Sandy, it was about nine-ish hours away by car. If we shifted and ran, it was about five. However, if we flew on the Dragon’s backs it was only an hour.

“Is this as weird as I think it is?” Granny whispered.

“Weirder,” I whispered back. And we knew weird. We shifted into animals and lived inordinately long lives. Of course, none of us looked a day over thirty since our aging process was so slow, but Demons were uncharted territory for all of us.

“How many times do I have to explain this to you?” Dwayne snapped into the phone. “This is not about whether I’m wearing underwear or not. I never wear underwear, but that is none of your business.”

“Sweet Jesus Hesus on a motor scooter,” Junior said quietly. “Startin’ to feel like we’re listening to a one-sided erotic audiobook.”

I bit back my groan with effort. However, I agreed. Dwayne had already explained in great detail what he was wearing… twice. Not to mention, he’d been giggling like a teenage girl after almost everything “Belphie” said. Clearly, Belphegor should be named Bel the Whore. And he didn’t seem scary at all if Dwayne’s behavior was anything to go by.

“Ixnay slovalopa bomp cushky wanamamahama bomp… bomp bomp,” Dwayne insisted and then waited for the answer.

I think.

The screaming from the other end of the conversation was loud and clear. Being shifters, all of us had razor sharp hearing. Belphegor didn’t sound pleased. Of course, I had no clue what he was saying since he was speaking the same gobbledy goop Dwayne was shouting.

“Slompa bomp whompa bomp skitzhazza,” Dwayne snarled. “Blockus nexmus bomp bomp.”

“What the heck?” I muttered looking around to see if everyone was as confused as I was. I was gonna be seriously pissed at myself if this was something else I’d missed in high school because of my class skipping habit.

Nope. Everyone looked perplexed… except my mom and dad.

“Dwayne is speaking Demon,” my father whispered.

“Do you understand it?” Granny asked.

“Only a few words,” my mother chimed in quietly. “And don’t ask how we know. That information is best left unspoken.”

“Roger that,” Junior said. “What can you understand?”

“Extusmiss noxia bomp bomp butulli, motherfucker,” Dwayne shouted as he began to levitate off the ground in fury.

Grabbing Dwayne by the pant leg, Granny yanked him back down to solid ground. “Well, I understood that part,” she said with a grin. “Don’t think it’s going the way Dwayne wants it to with Bel the Whore.”

“Belphegor,” I corrected her, hoping the Demon was too busy hurling insults at Dwayne to overhear Granny’s faux pas.

My dad gestured for us to back away from Dwayne. Only Granny stayed with him. Someone had to make sure Dwayne didn’t float away.

Quickly huddling around my parents, we waited. My dad continued to focus on Dwayne and his one-sided conversation. Granny reached over Dwayne’s hand and hit a button on his phone. She was brilliant. Belphegor was now on speakerphone.

“Floxger bomp bomp yetiwhompas bulzixness,” Belphegor’s irate and high-pitched voice growled over the line.

“Sheetoxis. Bomp fleupixness,” Dwayne countered, trying to bargain with the Demon.

There was a long pause while the Demon seemed to consider Dwayne’s request… or ultimatum… or possible threat.

“Bulifitexi bomp wannamampo exnicisis,” Belphegor said flatly as Dwayne began to pace again.

“Fwagotti lululana bomp,” Dwayne replied, looking up at the sunny sky.

“Something about a jailbreak,” my dad whispered.

“Well, shit,” Hank said, running his hand through his hair. “We sure as hell don’t need to get involved with breaking the law more than we’re already about to.”

“Amen to that shit,” Junior added.

“A jailbreak in Hell?” I questioned. I didn’t like the sound of it either, but we may as well know what we were dealing with.

My mom shook her head. “Not sure, but I think he said Louisville.”

“Louisville is in Hell?” I asked, surprised.

“According to some,” Junior said with a chuckle. “But I’m guessin’ he means Louisville, Kentucky.”

“Which makes sense since Belphegor is in Hell’s Half Acre,” Dima pointed out.

“I don’t think any of this makes sense,” I muttered.

“Glopususis magdeloopa bomp bomp bomp, Hung Island, Georgia,” Dwayne said and then hurled his cell phone.

The splash as it hit the water sounded distant. However, our hearing was outstanding.

“We’re near a creek?” Nicolai asked, glancing around.

“No,” Sadie replied. “The ocean. Of course, it’s a mile away, but Dwayne clearly has a good arm when he’s pissed off.”

Dwayne closed his eyes and let his chin fall to his chest. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground. Granny patted his bald head affectionately. Dwayne leaned into the woman he considered his mother.

“Is Belphegor coming?” I asked, squatting down in front of my best friend.

“He is,” Dwayne said in a tired voice.

“Is that good?” I pressed, worried for my usually jovial partner in crime.

Dwayne looked up and gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That remains to be seen. He’s not coming alone.”

“Explain,” Hank demanded.

“Belphegor is in Kentucky to break his pappy out of the pokey.”

“Because?” I asked as my stomach clenched.

Dwayne eyed all of us with an expression I couldn’t decipher. “You don’t want to know.”

“Want and need are two entirely different things,” I pointed out. “The question here is, do we need to know? I can say with assurance none of us want to know.”

“No,” Dwayne said with a slight gag. “No one needs to know. However, I would like to advise staying away from Zeernebooch’s mouth.”

“So Bel the Whore’s pappy’s name is Weiner Hooch?” Granny inquired with a laugh and a wink. “It’s no wonder those bastards are so pissy with names like that.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Dwayne said as he stood up and scanned the group. “And there is a small-ish wrinkle.”

“How small-ish?” I asked, knowing the ish was not going to be small at all.

Dwayne popped all ten of his knuckles and then twisted the diamond studs in his ears as he contemplated how to share the ish. “Belphegor’s pappy isn’t aware of his true orientation.”

“Okaaay,” I said, not following. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“The bastard has agreed to help us if we help him.”

We waited for Dwayne to be a little more forthcoming. He wasn’t. That’s when Granny decided to use a little corporal punishment.

“Out with it, peckerhead,” Granny demanded, whacking Dwayne on the back of his hairless noggin and sending him flying. Now that she was both Vampyre and Werewolf, her strength was absurd. “I have a pole dancing engagement tonight and you’re performing Cher while I change costumes. I have no time for nonsense.”

The irony. Oh, the irony.

“Fine,” Dwayne huffed, ducking Granny’s left hook. “Belphegor needs a beard.”

“I am so lost,” Junior said, scratching his head. “The Demon wants us to find him some facial hair so his pappy doesn’t find out he’s gay? That’s a new one to me. But I got no problem-o with it. Jimmy Joe Jim Bub, the Lion Shifter, has a ZZ Top beard. If we get him drunk enough, he probably wouldn’t know if we hack off some of his gnarly beard for Bel the Whore.”

I didn’t have the energy to correct Junior since I was so flabbergasted by what he’d just said. Everyone was silent as we digested his plan—and his stupidity.

“Umm… thank you,” Dwayne said to Junior. “However, we’re not talking that kind of beard.”

“He wants you to procure a fake girlfriend for him?” Dima asked with a laugh.

“Yessssssss,” Dwayne hissed. “I told the son of a bee-otch that in drag I’m more beautiful than any woman, but he said his pappy would sense it. Which in turn could lead to a Demon bloodbath that no one would survive.”

“Holy shit,” I shouted. “I’m gonna tear the Bobs a new asshole that will make it impossible for those shits to sit for a year. I don’t care if they are terrifying. This has gotten completely out of hand.”

“Hang on, Miss Sphincter Expander,” Granny said. “Dwayne, is this permanent or temporary?”

“Essie’s ass rip?” Dwayne inquired, perplexed.

Granny rolled her eyes and belted Dwayne again. “No, dumbass. The beard. We only have to provide a beard until the Demon raises the dead and we get the info we need about who’s behind the Jazz Cabbage outbreak. After that, all we can do is hope like hell we don’t have a Zombie Apocalypse on our hands.”

“Yes. Sounds about right,” Dwayne said, eyeing Granny suspiciously.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” she announced.

“Nope,” I said, getting up in her face. “You will do no such thing. I’ve already watched you almost die once. Not in the mood to see it happen again.”

Granny laughed and kissed the tip of my nose. “Who else is gonna do it, girlie? All the rest of you are mated to Weres—Alpha Weres. Even if you were to pretend to belong to another male, all Hell would break loose—pun very much intended.”

“Dangit, Bobbie Sue has a point,” Junior lamented. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself if the Whore put his hands on my Sandy.”

The tension was again rolling off of everyone.

Granny was correct. However, it went both ways. I’d gut another woman who touched Hank—even if I knew it wasn’t real. Mated Weres were almost psychotically possessive… both male and female.

Granny shrugged as she stared at me. “So, I win. I’m not mated. Still have nice hooters though—even if the right one is slightly bigger than the left—and it’s damned hard to kill me now that I’m undead.” Granny raised her arms over her head in victory.

“I don’t like this,” Dwayne said, hesitantly. “But I also don’t disagree.”

“Granny will never be left alone with Belphegor,” I insisted.

“Belphegor would never harm a hair on her head,” Dwayne said with complete conviction. “He’s not a fighter.”

“But he’s a Demon,” Hank said, narrowing his eyes at Dwayne. “That’s what Demons do.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Dwayne admitted. “But not this time. Belphegor is basically a failure as a Demon. He’s gay. He adores puppies—most Demons eat them. He loves Barbra Streisand and has a fabulous fashion sense—unlike most Demons.”

“Why haven’t the Demons eliminated him?” Dima asked the logical next question.

“Because he’s valuable,” Dwayne explained. “One of the very few who can raise the dead.”

“So then they all know he’s gay?” I asked.

Dwayne nodded. “Everyone knows Belphegor is gay.”

“But not his pappy?”

“Well, yes and no. Belphie was sent to conversion therapy in Hell to become straight,” Dwayne said with a snort of disgust that was echoed by all in attendance. “His pappy thinks he’s cured.”

“Well, I can’t even imagine conversion therapy in Hell,” Sadie snarled. “What kind of parent would do that to a child—even an evil, raise the dead kind of child?”

“A very bad parent,” Granny said with a sad shake of her head. “We can make this work for Bel the Whore. I know we can. It’s just a simple matter of not getting anyone killed by Weiner Hooch. Stakes are high, boys and girls. We have a Jazz Cabbage shit show of our own happening. The risk of being exposed to the humans is no joke. If the Whore can help us, we can help him.”

“I seriously don’t know how you made that make sense, old woman,” I said, squinting my eyes at her. “But you did.”

“ʼCause I’m brilliant,” she shot back with a cackle of glee.

“And I love you,” Dwayne said, hugging Granny close. “You are my hero.”

“I love your dead ass too,” she said and gave Dwayne a kiss on the cheek. “I’d say we get moving on the plans now. Essie, I believe you have some sphincters to elongate.”

“I’d suggest everyone go home and get laid tonight. Tomorrow is a new day that I’m not entirely sure any of us will live through,” Dwayne advised.

I wanted to laugh, but it got stuck in my throat. Shit was going to get serious, fast… like it wasn’t already serious. “On that lovely note, I have to go to Chicago to tear up some butts.”

“I’m with you,” Hank said.

“We can fly you there in an hour,” Dima said.

“It would be our pleasure,” Nicolai said with a small bow and a wink. “I’d quite enjoy seeing Essie in action with the Bobs.”

Hank nodded gratefully to our Dragon friends.

Junior raised his hand as Sandy tried to yank it back down. Her adorable face was bright pink and she was not happy with her mate.

“Yes, Junior?” Hank asked.

“I’m in for all of the shit. However, I want Sandy out of it.”

“Why’s that?” Dima raised her brow at Junior as she limbered up to shift to her Dragon. “You think she’s not tough enough? Because if that’s the case you’ve got another thing coming, mister.”

“It’s not that,” Sandy assured everyone, still blushing. “We were going to wait… but…”

“But what?” I asked, now getting worried that something was wrong with one of my favorite people in the world. “Are you okay?”

Junior’s grin was as wide as it could get without cracking his face in two. “In the midst of some bad shee-ot going down with our people, I want to announce my gal is a miracle with great hooters. And… she’s knocked up. My swimmers are some powerful motherhumpers! We’re gonna have a baby Werewolf.”

“Oh my God,” Sadie squealed with delight. “I’m going to be a grandma—no… a Mimi! I shall be called Mimi—sounds younger. I will be the most stylish Mimi alive.”

Sandy’s look of horror as Sadie basically tackle-hugged her and kissed her made me laugh. We were both terrified of our mother-in-law and with good reason. Of course, Sandy was now winning the daughter-in-law game since she was pregnant. Hank and I would get there eventually, but I wasn’t ready quite yet.

It amazed me that with all the bad in the world we’d witnesses lately, and with what was on the horizon, that there were still things which reminded me the life was precious and beautiful. It was all the more reason to go ahead with the insane plan we were hatching.

Hank slapped his brother on the back and hugged Sandy. “I agree with Sandy being no part of the physical fight if there is one, but there’s a piece of the puzzle that I hope both of you can solve.”

“Shoot,” Sandy said, still slightly pink in the face.

“None of the dead Weres have been reported missing,” I explained, realizing where Hank’s line of thought was headed. “Can you and Junior do some research and see if you can find anything?”

“Any stats?” Sandy asked.

“Only what the Bobs have given us—crime scene photos, dates, approximate times. We’ll get the briefcase to you,” I told them.

“Locations?” Sandy pulled her laptop out again and began typing.

“Georgia twice. Tennessee twice. Texas one time and once in Chicago. Very random,” Hank said.

“Maybe or maybe not,” Junior said, looking over Sandy’s shoulder. “Is this a legal search or can we play iffy?”

“Iffy is completely acceptable,” I said, thinking about how I was about to rip into the Bobs for omitting intel. “And hacking into the WTF database is more than okay. I think they know more than they’ve told us.”

“On it,” Sandy said with a naughty gleam in her eyes.

My buddy was a hacker extraordinaire. Junior and Sandy together were just about as good as it got as far as digging up anything in the cyber world. If there was even a trace of scandal or info, they could unearth it… or they could create it.

“So how are we going to play it tomorrow when the Demons arrive?” Sadie asked.

It was a great question and needed to be dealt with before we all separated.

“A party,” my mother said quietly. “We will have an intimate party to celebrate Junior and Sandy’s beautiful news.”

“That way we will all be present when Bobbie Sue is pretending to be Belphegor’s girlfriend,” my father added. “It will be safer.”

Like I said… my parents might not talk much, but when they did? It was freakin’ brilliant.

“I’ll host,” Sadie insisted, wildly excited.

My mother-in-law lived to throw parties.

“What shall I serve?”

“Not puppies,” I mumbled on a gag. “Just don’t serve puppies.”