“Seth believes there might be more to the photos of the crime scenes than the naked eye can see,” Nicolai said with a mouth full of taco.

“Explain,” I said as I pulled my pile of tacos closer to me. If anyone so much as looked at one of my tacos, they would lose an eyeball. “Did he see something we missed?”

“No,” Dima said, also hoarding her tacos. “But he has a feeling. He’s studied the pictures for days and he doesn’t see anything more than we do.”

Since Seth was a seer, I took his observations seriously.

“The files are in Hung. We can look them over again in a few hours,” I said, wishing I’d brought them with me.

We were holed up in one of Dwayne’s houses in Lincolnshire, Illinois. Dwayne owned more real estate around the world than anyone I knew. Dima, Hank and I had used this house before as a safe house. It was charming and right smack in the middle of a human residential neighborhood.

“So what does Seth suggest?” Hank asked, quickly shoving tacos into his mouth before someone tried to pilfer one.

Yes. The tacos were that good.

Dima swallowed before she spoke. She had better manners than any of us. “He said to make sure Junior takes a good look at them. He might be able to enhance the photos and find something.”

“I have a burner phone,” I said, reaching into my back pocket while still keeping my body positioned over my tacos. I loved my friends and my mate, but no one was to be trusted where tacos were concerned. “I’ll text him and get him and Sandy on it. Anything else?”

“Not really,” Dima said, licking the hot sauce off the wrapper. “He likes his job so far, but he’s still being treated like the enemy. Although, Seth is so chill and likable that people are starting to come around.”

Maybe her manners weren’t so great…

“Sadly Dragons are going to have a rough time joining the rest of the species,” Hank said with a shake of his head. “It’ll take time, patience and probably a few challenges from other Weres until you’re on more of an even footing.”

Nodding, I agreed. “However, Seth is the perfect person in the position.”

“I concur,” Nicolai said. “My brother is the epitome of peace and goodness. I would have incinerated the building by now.” He paused, and an evil little smirk began to pull at his lips. “I’d like to say something controversial.”

“Will it make me gag?” I asked.

“No,” Nicolai promised with a chuckle. “But it might cause a fist fight.”

We mulled over the possibility of a friendly smackdown.

“I’m fine with that as long as no weapons are used, no one shifts and no one uses excessive magical force in the brawl,” I stated diplomatically. It might be a nice way to blow off a little steam from today.

“Sounds fair to me,” Hank said, eyeing my last taco.

“I’m cool,” Dima said, watching her mate with amusement.

“Okay, hear me out before you attack,” Nicolai said with a huge grin, obviously enjoying the build-up to whatever horrible thing he was about to share. “I’m going out on a limb and saying that these tacos might be tastier than Juju’s pizza.”

The gasps from all—including me—almost made me choke on my Mexican feast.

Eating Juju’s pizza was as close to a religious experience as I’d ever come. Nicolai was being blasphemous. However… he might have a point. The tacos were damned heavenly.

Juju was a Rabbit shifter back on Hung Island who made the best pizza known to man and Shifter. It was so damned good that all Weres of every species in the tri-state area had voluntarily given up eating rabbit in their animal form. No one would take the risk of accidentally eating Juju. No one.

“Duuuuude,” I said, choking back a laugh. “That is an intense statement.”

“Right?” Nicolai said with a laugh. “But go with me here. I’d be willing to duke it out with my own woman if she went for my taco.”

“I feel you,” Dima said with a giggle. “I’d knock you out cold.”

“I bloodied Junior’s nose over these tacos,” Hank said slowly, clearly putting a lot of thought into the dilemma. “However, I’ve also kicked his ass over a large Juju’s pepperoni. I think I’m going to have to call it a draw.”

“I’m with Hank. It just feels too traitorous to dis the Juju,” I said, now grinning as well.

“So no fight?” Nicolai asked, disappointed.

“Nope,” I told him. “Dwayne had to do a major renovation after the last time we were here. I don’t think he would be thrilled if we destroyed his house again.”

“Speaking of destruction,” Dima said with a raised brow as she popped the last of her taco pile into her mouth. “The Bobs are still breathing?”

“Yep. At least they are for today. Tomorrow is anyone’s call.”

The fight back home to Hung Island was no less terrifying than the flight to Chicago. I seriously regretted eating the fourteen tacos I’d inhaled. We made it back alive, but my hair would probably never recover.

“Day-um,” Junior shouted as we landed on the Wilson’s property. “I wanna Dragon ride too.”

“No, you don’t,” I muttered as I tried to find my land legs without hurling up my tacos. “Did you discover anything odd in the crime scene photos?”

“Possibly,” Junior said as he and Sandy and the rest of the gang oohed and ahhed over the Dragons. “I can’t make it out. We need someone with x-ray vision.”

“Like Superman,” Sandy chimed in. “Although, the first person with x-ray vision in a comic book was Olga Mesmer in the 1937 Spicy Mysteries. And in mythology, it was Lynceus of the Argonauts who possessed a similar ability.”

We all just stared at her. Sandy’s brain worked like no one else’s.

“That was too much, wasn’t it?” she asked, blushing in embarrassment.

“Baby, that was so freakin’ hot if there weren’t people here, I’d strip you nekkid and make you see Jesus Hesus right now,” Junior shouted joyously, bent over at the waist in pain from his member’s appreciation of his mate’s innate knowledge of everything nerdy.

“TMI, Junior,” Hank said, swatting the back of his brother’s head.

“My bad, bro,” Junior replied still jackknifed forward. “I blew the photos up and something is off. I just can’t put my finger on it. And I think there might be something important to the locations.”

“God,” I muttered with a shudder. “Having to stare at the normal sized photos is gut-wrenching. I don’t know if I can look at them enlarged.”

“We have to,” Hank said, growing serious. “If there’s a clue in them, we need it. If we can avoid having Belphegor raise the dead, that would be a very good thing.”

“A freakin’ Zombie apocalypse would let the world know we existed,” Granny pointed out, playing Scrabble on her phone.

“Possibly. Possibly not,” I countered, thinking about what Granny had said. “Dwayne, if Belphegor raises the dead… can he make them dead again?”

Dwayne had changed outfits in the five hours we’d been gone. He was now in the requisite black that we were all wearing. However, his choice of battle wear was a black off the shoulder knit top and matching gauchos with sparkly black kitten heels. It was appalling, yet he made it work.

“Tricky question, Doll. And honestly, I’m not sure,” Dwayne said, snapping pictures on his phone of the Dragons in all their glory. “Technically, as Zombies, they’re still dead. Awfully hard to kill something dead. I know this first hand being that I’m a fashionably dead bloodsucker.”

Shit. This was a wrinkle that hadn’t been considered yet. And I’d bet my perky B cups that the Bobs hadn’t thought about it either.

“Is there any non-comic book kind of supernatural that has x-ray vision?” I asked as I watched Granny drop kick her phone into the woods.

She got pissed off at the computer-generated Scrabble player on a regular basis. Granny went through phones like Dwayne went through outfits. Shouting at the flying phone, she marched off into the woods to retrieve it.

“Vampyres have it,” Dwayne said. “Well, certain Vamps have it.”

“Do you?” I asked.

“No, I don’t,” he replied and then turned his attention to Granny who was still cussing up a storm at her phone as she rejoined us. “But there’s someone else here who might.”

“Why in Dwayne’s pink panties is everyone staring at me?” Granny demanded, narrowing her eyes. “Haven’t you ever seen anyone punt a phone before? Very satisfying—especially when the dang computer bastard cheats at Scrabble.”

“I don’t wear panties,” Dwayne reminded Granny. “Although, if I did, I would look fabu in pink.”

“Whoops, my bad. Next time I’ll be more accurate,” she promised with a wink.

“Wait. The computer cheats?” Sandy asked, still mulling over the second half of Granny’s diatribe. “Do you think the Scrabble site got hacked?”

As Sandy was a superb hacker herself, everything electronic fascinated her.

“Must have,” Granny griped, swinging her phone in the air. “I mean, it’s just a fucktangle of hairless cats. I was winning and then I wasn’t.”

“Did you use that word?” Sandy asked, wincing.

“What word?”

“Umm… fucktangle,” she whispered.

“No. But I will next time,” Granny replied, typing it into her notes.

“That’s not a word recognized by the official Scrabble dictionary,” Sandy pointed out gently.

“Dangit,” Granny grumbled. “If the cheater used a fake word, why can’t I?”

“What was it?” Sandy asked.

“Zymurgy. Can you freakin’ believe that crap?”

“Okaaay,” Sandy said, patting Granny on the back. “That means the chemistry of fermentation.”

“Are you shitting me?” Granny demanded.

“I shit you not,” Sandy told her, trying not to smile.

“What about qanat? That can’t be real.”

“A tunnel for irrigation,” Sandy explained.

“Wagyu?”

“Japanese cattle.”

“Well slap my ass and call me Sally,” Granny shouted. “Muzkjiks?”

“Russian peasants.”

“Peezing?” Granny demanded.

Sandy paused and wrinkled her adorable nose. “Now that is a definite cheat. I have no clue what that means.”

“It’s when you sneeze and pee at the same time,” Granny explained. “Peezing.”

Sandy tilted her head to the side in confusion. “The computer got away with that?”

“Hell no. That’s my word and the bastard computer wouldn’t let me play it.”

“While this is wildly fascinating—not,” I said with a groan. “We have more important issues to handle.”

“I can’t take it,” Junior shouted, rolling on the ground in agony. “That was so goddanged hot I’m gonna explode.”

Without missing a beat, Hank whacked his brother in the back of the head and dragged him to his truck. “Sandy, we’re gonna need you to take Junior home. He’s useless at the moment. You might want to refrain from saying anything remotely smart on the drive.”

“Will do,” Sandy said, blushing furiously while grinning from ear to ear. “Sorry guys. Call me if you need me.”

“But give us a couple of hours,” Junior called out from the truck. “We’ll be fine in a few hours… or days.”

Watching in silence as the car drove away, I grinned. I wanted a couple of hours… or days… with Hank too. I saw Dima eye Nicolai. Hank’s mom winked at Hank’s dad. Even my mom and dad were now standing closer together. Junior had started something.

Dwayne rolled his eyes and laughed. “As Bobbie Sue and I are the only ones unmated here, I’m going to suggest that she and I work to see if she actually does have x-ray vision. Leave your damned phones on,” Dwayne instructed with a smirk. “If we find anything, you will answer your phones. I do not give a rat’s hairy ass what you might be doing. You feel me?”

“Yep,” Dima said as she and Nicolai sprinted to their SUV.

“Wonderful,” Sadie trilled as she grabbed Hank’s very willing father by the collar of his shirt and literally dragged him up the hill to their sprawling mansion.

My mom and dad gave us a silent wave and quickly made their way to their vehicle.

That left me, Hank, Granny and Dwayne.

“Whatcha waiting for, girlie?” Granny asked with a cackle. “Go on home and have a little fun before the Zombie apocalypse.”

“You sure?” I asked, feeling Hank’s hard body right behind mine. My girlie parts were screaming to leave, but as the people in charge of this mission, it didn’t feel right. “I mean, we could stay and help.”

Hank growled low in his chest. It was all kinds of sexy. What I wanted to do was jump him and play tonsil hockey. What I did instead was elbow him in the gut. His grunt of surprise almost made me laugh. However, it did sober him up.

“Essie is right,” Hank admitted glumly. “We’ll stay and help.”

“You will do no such thing,” Granny announced, giving me the evil eyeball. “I do not need mopey, horny Werewolves hanging around while I figure out if I’m more fabulous than I already am.”

She meant business. Bobbie Sue Harding was tiny and gorgeous and packed a punch that no one wanted to be on the receiving end of. I glanced over at Hank who shrugged and grinned. Who was I to say no to my granny?

“Fine,” I said, unable to hide my smile. “You will call us if you figure anything out—even if it’s small.”

“Nothing small about it,” Hank muttered under his breath.

Since all of us had basically bionic hearing, Hank’s comment was missed by no one.

“Out of here. Now,” Granny commanded, pointing at Hank’s motorcycle.

She didn’t need to say another word.

It was nookie time.