"Some days I hate my job," Weldon shrugged out of his shirt first thing when we got back to the room. Avery may have gotten a bite or two in, but he wasn't much of a challenge for the Grand Master. Winkler, having done away with three of the others, also had a few bites but nothing that wouldn't heal quickly. At least they didn't seem to have the vampire's allergy to werewolf saliva like I did. I sat outside in Weldon's little sitting area, doing my duty as a bodyguard while he took a shower and cleaned up.

"Lissa, I hate to put you back in that bag, but I want to leave first thing in the morning," Weldon said when he walked out of the bathroom dressed in a towel. He called the pilot and co-pilot, had them bring the bag over and take the cooler and most of the other luggage back with them. We only kept what we'd need for the following day. I pulled out more fleece to dress in since I was going to be unconscious when they hauled me out of there in the morning.

"It's a good thing she's small and limber," Weldon mumbled to Winkler, who'd folded up the body bag that held Lissa's sleeping body. He had her not only folded up but hanging from a hook on the cart the bellboy was wheeling toward the cab. Winkler tossed the bag into the trunk on top of the other bags. Weldon gave him a hard look, Winkler shrugged and they climbed into the cab after tipping the bellboy.

The jet ran into a bit of turbulence over Lake Michigan on the way to Grand Rapids. "I think Lissa's lucky she's missing this," Weldon was bouncing around in his seat. Winkler was tapping away on his computer; Kelvin was humming The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

"Wrong lake," Winkler muttered in Kelvin's direction.

Once they left the lake behind, the turbulence cleared up and the jet landed in Grand Rapids without further incident. It was still early, nearing noon, so the three werewolves rented an SUV, loaded it up and drove toward a hotel. The local Packmaster wasn't expecting them until later that evening. Weldon wanted to leave the dust of Des Moines behind him as quickly as he could; the Pack there had mourning to do and needed time to regroup without his interference. Three rooms were booked at the Marriott downtown, which was also near the Grand River; Winkler preferred a water view whenever he could get it. Weldon made the call to the local Packmaster, letting him know they'd arrived early and where they'd booked rooms, a.s.suring him that they just wanted to relax a little before going to dinner with the Packmaster, his wife and Second later on.

Sunset was a little after five that Thursday and we were one week away from Thanksgiving when my eyes popped open. Winkler had already pulled me from the bag and settled me on his bed, propped up with extra pillows. He had a bag of blood out for me too, handing it over the moment I realized he was sitting next to me. Kelvin, who walked in from the Grand Master's room through the connecting door, watched in fascination as I drank my meal. Winkler took the third of a bag that I couldn't finish and locked it inside the cooler. He still had the key with him for some reason and hadn't given it to me. He and I both knew that I could pop the lock off the cooler if it was necessary, but I still couldn't figure the whole thing out. Winkler wasn't taking any chances with my blood supply and that puzzled me a little.

I cleaned up and changed after my meal; Weldon called the Packmaster for the name of the restaurant where we were eating and said he'd meet him there. I think Weldon wanted as little small talk and chitchat as possible without appearing rude. The night before hadn't settled well with him, I could tell.

This Packmaster had a werewolf wife, and while she'd been informed that Weldon was bringing a female vampire as a bodyguard, I think she was expecting somebody dressed in a revealing black leather bustier and stiletto heels while showing fang to everybody. When I showed up in a nice charcoal gray suit with a black turtleneck under the jacket, I almost heard her sigh of relief. My short boots didn't have more than a two-inch heel.

"Are you really, oh, you know," she said across the table. I smiled and nodded at her, hoping to put her at ease. She sat between her husband and Weldon; I was wedged between Winkler and Kelvin on the opposite side of the booth. The Second, a quiet werewolf, had an extra chair on the outside edge and seemed content to listen while everyone else talked. Once again we were at a steak place, only this one served ribs, seafood and a little chicken as well. Winkler went out on a limb and ordered two lobsters.

Kelvin ordered chicken and ribs; I ordered a salad and the soup du jour. My phone rang while we waited for food to be served. I checked caller ID-it was Gavin. I'd sent him an email when I woke earlier, telling him everything was fine. That wasn't sufficient, I guess.

"I'll take this elsewhere," I said, attempting to scoot Winkler over so I could get out. He had the seat on the outside.

"It's all right, you can take it here," Winkler refused to budge. My phone rang again so I rolled my eyes a little at Weldon, whose expression was unreadable. I'd have to talk to Gavin with everybody listening in.

"Hi, honey," I said as brightly as I could when I answered. No need to transmit to the Packmaster and his missus that the vampire on the other end was more than likely frowning deeply and waiting to lecture me about staying away from Winkler and every other male on the face of the planet.

"Lissa, are you well?" I'd just told him I was in the email. Maybe I should have translated it into French or something so he'd understand it better. I didn't say that, though.

"I'm very well," I said. "We're having dinner right now." I was hoping he'd make this short and sweet as a result. Ever since Rene's little fiasco and the thing with the bomb, well, he'd gotten worse.

"Lissa, I just wanted to hear your voice," he said. He almost sounded lonely. f.u.c.k.

"Honey, I miss you," I said. I tried to get Winkler to let me out again, but he wasn't moving, choosing to grin as he crunched into a breadstick. More than likely werewolf hearing is just as good as vampire hearing so everybody at the table was getting to hear my conversation with Gavin. "Honey, are you going to be available for Christmas?" I asked, trying to point the conversation in a better direction. Plus, Weldon was supposed to give me a break and I'd only told Winkler I'd do Thanksgiving dinner.

"I don't know, cherie. Right now there are no a.s.signments but that could change as it usually does."

"All right." I sighed. "Let me know, okay?"

"Of course I will. If I find I have the time, I will either come to you or bring you to me as quickly as possible."

"Okay, honey, that sounds good," I said.

"Cara mia, ti amo troppo," Gavin said, and hung up. I must have blinked a couple of times because Winkler was watching me closely.

"You don't know what he said, do you?" he asked ungraciously. I was glad at that moment that I couldn't blush.

"No. I wish he'd translate sometimes, unless he's cursing. That he can keep to himself."

"When did he curse the last time?" Winkler lifted an eyebrow.

"When somebody messed up my outfit," I said, hanging my head a little so Winkler wouldn't see my grimace. "He threw me in the shower and scrubbed me twice, while cursing in at least three languages." Weldon snickered at my explanation. I wasn't about to mention the Rene fiasco. That would involve even more explanation, and I'm sure Wlodek wouldn't approve.

"Someone messed up your outfit?" The Packmaster's wife, Jewel, said across the table.

"Oh, yeah," I elbowed Winkler. Not as hard as I'd like but hard enough.

"You got scrubbed twice?" Winkler was grinning hugely. Obviously, I needed to be harsher with my elbow.

"And shampooed twice. And then wrapped in a towel while more cursing was going on. He's not jealous or anything."

"How did you get engaged to him anyway? Honestly, Lissa, that's the last thing I expected from you." Winkler emptied the scotch the waiter brought out.

"Well, that makes two of us," I muttered. "Winkler, do you know how many females of my kind there are? Do you?"

"No. Do you?" He was grinning again.

"Sixteen," I said. Winkler almost choked.

"Do you need the Heimlich Maneuver?" I asked sweetly. Kelvin perked right up at that. It might have been a chance to show off his medical skills, but then again, maybe not. Winkler straightened up.

"Are you telling me that they were going to auction you off to the highest bidder?" Weldon was b.u.t.tering a roll from the basket the waiter set down in front of him.

"In a way," I said. "Gavin was one of the top three and out of those three, well, the Russian guy scared the bejeezus out of me, same with the Frenchman, for different reasons. Gavin's was the third offer."

"You don't love him?" Jewel was sympathetic.

"No, that's the trouble. I do, but all it takes is a couple of near-deaths and one insane bout of jealousy and he wants to hover."

"Is he handsome?" she asked curiously.

"He is," Weldon supplied for me. "He was here, earlier in the year. When he was called back to Europe, he took Lissa with him."

"We don't want to discuss that," I said. I got all riled up every time I thought about that. "He's growing his hair back," I added.

"How did he lose it?" Winkler's eyes were dancing.

"Um, a rogue with a flame thrower," I said. "We were worried he wouldn't make it for a while."

"And there I thought you might have been responsible. I did notice he looked almost shaved," Weldon said, smiling slightly. He and Winkler hadn't spoken to Gavin when they'd come to handle Tate Briggs. I couldn't blame them; Gavin held them under compulsion while he was in the U.S.

"Enough about me," I said. "Jewel, how do you like being the wife of the man in charge?"

"I don't see him as often as I'd like," she put an arm through his. Theirs was obviously a love match, one way or the other. "But I'm proud of him, too," she looked up at him; he smiled down at her.

Weldon got into the conversation then and I was thankful for that. He asked how the finances of the Pack were. The Packmaster who'd gotten killed with Lester Briggs back in the spring had been siphoning off funds that the Pack paid in for emergencies and such.

"We're rebuilding, Grand Master," James Naylor replied. "I have the books and the bank statements ready for your inspection."

"I'll take a look tomorrow evening," Weldon nodded. I was beginning to be hopeful that tomorrow night wouldn't turn out like the last one.

It didn't. Everything went smoothly. The guards did their job and were well behaved, several of the wives got together to supply the meal and I could tell they were all pitching in to replace the money the previous Packmaster had stolen. Weldon and Winkler both enjoyed the home-cooked food. Kelvin ate with them; clearly, he could eat just as much as any other werewolf I'd ever met.

Kelvin. It was hard to tell about him, at times. He never talked much-at least not with me. I also wondered why Winkler had taken all three executions in Des Moines rather than allowing Kelvin to take at least one of them. Oh, well. Not my business.

We made it to Jamestown, Pennsylvania, and Houlton, Maine, before we had to fly back to Dallas for Thanksgiving. We had three towns in West Virginia to visit after that and the first full moon in December fell on the third one, Sugar Grove, which bordered the Shenandoah Mountains. That's where the local Pack was scheduled to run and Weldon, Winkler and Kelvin would be running with them.

We started the trip to Dallas in the afternoon while it was still daylight, so I was packed into the plane inside my favorite bag. The sun set after a while and Winkler pulled me out so I wouldn't wake up zipped inside the thing. That just terrified me for some reason, although I could punch or rip my way out easily enough. Merrill also called; I had voicemail from him as soon as we landed in Dallas. I called him back; he was in New York so the time difference wasn't that bad.

"Franklin and I decided to pack up and come here through the New Year," he said. I asked him if Franklin was well. Franklin always said he was in his emails but then he was one of those people who'd say that if he was on his deathbed, I think.

"Franklin is very well and will be making dinner for himself and Greg on Thanksgiving," Merrill informed me. "I have checked your credit card charges, Lissa."

"Really? Has someone been using my card? What did you find?" I knew I hadn't used it for anything; there'd been no opportunity.

"That's just it, there isn't anything," he said.

"And you're complaining?"

"I expect you to buy something for yourself, now and then," he told me gently.

"All right, I'll go out and buy a bus," I said.

"See that you do," he chuckled.

We talked for a bit longer before hanging up. "Who was that?" Winkler asked. We'd been picked up at the airport by a werewolf I didn't know and were on our way to Winkler's mansion, which sat on a tract of land between Denton and Dallas.

"My surrogate sire," I said, stuffing the phone inside my small purse.

"The black haired one?" Weldon asked. He'd seen Merrill during Tate's execution.

"Yes. That's Merrill."

"Why didn't you take him?" Winkler asked out of curiosity.

"Because he's not interested," I replied. "He already has a woman on the hook. I don't rate next to that."

"Lissa, you'd rate next to anybody," Winkler tried to nuzzle my neck. I had to push him away. Weldon commandeered the front pa.s.senger seat so Winkler, Kelvin and I got the back seat of the van while our luggage was piled in the cargo area. My bag was filled with dirty clothes, so I was hoping to get my laundry washed while I was at Winkler's place. Driving through the gate to Winkler's mansion almost felt like coming home and Winkler offered a grin and a hug as we pulled in.

"I'll get the turkey on as soon as I get up tomorrow," I told Winkler as we unloaded luggage from the van. "Eat a late lunch; I'll have dinner ready around nine or ten. I'll see if I can do pies tonight."

Pies were what I did, along with my laundry. Winkler wouldn't let me stay in the guesthouse this time, so I got a huge bedroom inside the house. Whitney and Sam were there as well, but they'd already gone to bed. I baked all night and did other little prep things like chopping onion and celery and putting it in baggies, ready to add to recipes. I was thankful that there was a double oven in the kitchen; it saved a lot of time.

The turkey went into the oven as soon as I woke on Thanksgiving Day. Whitney and Sam came in to hug me and Davis gave me a huge kiss, shocking me a little. Kelvin was most likely shocked too-he'd witnessed it. He and the others lounged around in the kitchen when things started smelling good. Whitney helped set the table; there was a beautiful linen tablecloth laid down with napkins, silver and china that was extremely expensive. It was all getting hand-washed afterward.

Weldon carved up the turkey for everyone and the werewolves stuffed themselves on turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes and giblet gravy, green bean ca.s.serole, a broccoli rice ca.s.serole in case you didn't do green beans, corn on the cob, yams, fresh rolls, pumpkin, pecan, apple and chocolate pies. This was the way you did Thanksgiving where I came from. Daryl and Kathy Jo had arrived shortly before the meal was served and she was happy as could be, even if she was five months pregnant.

"I can't believe a vampire still cooks," Kelvin said. He'd been drinking a little and his words were slurring. Davis kept pouring out wine for everybody except Kathy Jo, who was having soda. I had a gla.s.s of wine with all of them, although I couldn't taste it.

"I still have fond memories of what it tasted like," I sipped my wine. "So, nowadays it gives me pleasure to know someone else is enjoying it."

Whitney, Kathy Joe and Davis helped clean the kitchen. I gave Davis an extra hug for being the only guy who made the effort. He grinned at me. Believe me; I was ready for sunrise to come when it did.

Chapter 8.

"Here he goes," Winkler said. He, Weldon and Davis watched the monitor hooked up to the hidden security camera inside Lissa's bedroom. Kelvin had stolen inside after telling everyone he was going to the convenience store two blocks away for a few personal items.

"What the f.u.c.k is he-oh no," Weldon didn't want to see this. Kelvin was undressing Lissa, who was completely unconscious and had no way of knowing what was being done to her. Kelvin removed the speculum from his bag first, did a quick pelvic exam, took specimens, screwed lids on tightly after dropping samples inside sterile tubes and jars, then set about getting blood, hair and tissue samples. Lissa was dressed again; Kelvin gathered his things and stole quietly from the room.

"I want to kill him now," Davis growled.

"We can't. We have to wait and see who else is involved in this," Winkler said. "If I hadn't had that trace on the messages he sends, I wouldn't have caught this. How did that Tate kid get so many people involved?"

"I'm sure we'll find out and I hope it's sooner rather than later. I don't like watching my back where he's concerned," Weldon grumbled. "I know I'm safe if Lissa's up, but it's a different story if she isn't. I worry when Winkler has to go take a p.i.s.s."

"I'll try to keep my p.i.s.sing to a minimum," Winkler muttered.

"p.i.s.s on Kelvin," Davis suggested with a grin.

"Who do you have following him?" Winkler asked Davis.

"Glen and Hastings," Davis said. Winkler nodded. He could trust those two. "They'll give us a call but I figure he's hauling that to a lab somewhere to drop it off. Once we find which one, we can keep tabs on who comes in and goes out."

"We need to subst.i.tute something else for those samples," Weldon pointed out.

"We'll get right on that," Winkler pulled his cell out and made a few calls.

They got a message from Glen roughly an hour later; Kelvin had gone straight to Healdton Labs with the small bag of samples, dropping them off and leaving shortly after. He then drove to the convenience store as originally planned before returning to Denton. Glen, who was very experienced in tailing someone, never made Kelvin suspicious, even.

Winkler's hospital employee slipped into the lab two hours later, sniffed out the vampire samples, traded for some he'd taken just recently from a patient at the hospital and then called Winkler. Winkler arranged to meet with the technician, who handed everything over. Winkler pa.s.sed quite a bit of cash to the man and carried Lissa's samples to Davis.

"Bury these," he said. "Destroy them as much as you can, then bury them where they won't be found." Davis nodded, grabbed the bag and took off.

"Get what you wanted?" Winkler came into the kitchen, finding Kelvin seated at the kitchen island, helping himself to a piece of leftover pie. Winkler forced himself to be calm, polite and interested in Kelvin's answer.

"Yes. But the convenience store didn't have the shampoo I liked, so I had to go somewhere else."

"Leave any pie?" Winkler looked inside the fridge. He pulled leftover turkey out to make a sandwich.