Viper Game (GhostWalkers 11)

There was a short silence. He could feel the hurt in her. His words stung. He hadn't meant them that way, but he didn't want his children to have to ever look back and know they'd killed someone when they didn't have to. In the laboratory, they'd had no choice, and he could explain that to them, but in their home, the adults did the protecting.

You're right, Wyatt. I'm sorry. I should have thought of that.

She hadn't because she'd never had a childhood, parents or a family. She thought first like a soldier, not a mother. She didn't have experience to draw from. She had no parents of her own to give her a road map to follow. There would always be gaps in her parenting because of that, gaps he could fill in. She needed him whether or not she wanted to admit it.

Why should you have? You don' have that kind of experience. I was lucky to have Nonny. She taught me a few things that might come in handy. He's on the steps.

Wyatt stepped back to allow Larry to come onto the porch. Malichai, they're restless out here and I can guarantee they'll be on the move the moment we're inside.

No worries, Ezekiel assured, suddenly all business. I've got him covered. I've got a good vantage point.

"I don't know if you've heard of strange happenings in the swamp lately," Larry said, suddenly wanting a conversation. He even managed to pitch his voice friendly.

"There's always somethin' strange happenin' in the swamp," Wyatt confirmed.

Now he knew the reason the guards went to the Huracan Club. They wanted to hear the news, the gossip going around.

"Just go to one of the local bars and you'll hear every kind of story you'll ever want to hear about what goes on in the bayous and swamps," Wyatt said with a small, almost friendly grin. Unlike the guards, he was cloak and dagger.

"We can tell some stories. Funny thin' is, most of them are true." He could be just as chatty as the next man. "We've got the Rougarou. That's a beast, a shapeshifter. Our own neighbors can be accused of bein' the Rougarou. We've got moans and screams and all sorts of strange noises. I've been huntin' the swamps my entire life and I've seen some strange thin's."

He stared into the dog's eyes, keeping command of the animal. "My grand-mere may be tough, but I don' want that animal to bite her. I'd have to kill it, and it's a good-lookin' dog. I know you care for the dog, so you're gettin' that one warnin'."

"He won't bite without provocation or command," Larry assured.

"Then come on in," Wyatt said. "Nonny's in the parlor with her pipe and music. Most nights she smokes on the porch, but once in a while she takes to smokin' in the parlor and then we know to mind our business. She's missin' Grand-pere."

The smell of Nonny's pipe tobacco would also mess with the dog's ability to locate Pepper and Ginger. The aroma of the big pot of jambalaya on the stove and the bread rising beneath the tea towels also helped.

"Nonny." Wyatt raised his voice above the music. "We have company. The gentleman from Wilson Plastics has come to have a word with you."

Nonny took the pipe from her mouth and looked at them. Straight. Her eyes steady. Her mouth firm. She reached over casually and turned the music down, but she didn't turn it off. Nonny would never have a conversation with a neighbor with music playing in the parlor. She would consider that rude. Larry didn't know it, but he'd just been insulted.

She looked pointedly at the shotgun and then back at Larry. "Mights' well take a seat, boy," she said and gestured toward the one closest to her. "Mighty fine dog you have there. I like critters a whole lot better than I do varmints."

That was another veiled insult Larry didn't get. There was nothing wrong with Nonny's mind. She was sharp. Wyatt had to hide a grin and keep himself from kissing his grandmother right there on the spot. She was special, a woman to walk beside a man. He should have known all along that anyone who didn't see that in his grandmother didn't belong anywhere near his family. Joy had not been overly fond of Nonny. He'd been such an idiot over Joy, and he owed his grandmother an apology, possibly a much bigger one than Larry did.

Larry's eyes darted around the room, looking at every detail. This was the parlor Nonny entertained guests in. There was nothing out of place. She'd opened the window behind her as if she blew her tobacco smoke in that direction, but the slight breeze just circulated the spicy scent throughout the room. The dog, instead of alerting, dropped down to Larry's feet and put his head on his paws. Larry relaxed visibly.

They're spreading out and moving around the house, Ezekiel said. Looking for tracks.

I went out this morning, Malichai reminded. There were a couple of small baby prints and smears of blood. They're gone.

Thanks, Malichai, Wyatt said.

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, striving for casual, his fingers inches from his throwing knives - and he was very accurate with a knife.

Wyatt, when I brought Ginger here, we were both injured. I hadn't thought about leading them straight to your house. We were going to be in and out in an hour or less. I'm sorry, Pepper said. I know better than that.

She hadn't been thinking like a soldier. The baby was bleeding and so was she. She wanted medical attention for the child, and she knew, as did anyone staying more than a day or two in the bayou, that Nonny Fontenot was the woman to see. If she couldn't fix you up, she called in the local traiteur.

Malichai took care of it, Pepper.

But I led them here. What's wrong with me?

Wyatt felt guilt and even humiliation beating at her. Tears. She was fighting tears. He couldn't have her crying right then, not when he couldn't comfort her. He had to stay focused on the guards surrounding the house.

Honey, don' be gettin' upset over this. We have company and you have to keep Ginger quiet. They'll be movin' around to your windows in a couple of minutes. They won' be able to see in, but they may try to open them. Like I said, those stingin' nettles are there and their boots won' be much protection.

It's the painkillers. I told you not to give them to me.

"Ms. Fontenot," Larry began, glancing up at Wyatt.

"I'm over here," Nonny stated.

She had let the pipe go out. There was never smoking in the house. It was forbidden, especially in the front parlor. She had sacrificed her rigid rule in order to cover the scent of the two fugitives from the dog. The tobacco, combined with the cat scent and Wyatt's firm hold on it, prevented the dog from doing its job.

Wyatt waggled his finger at Larry and the guard whipped his head back around to face Nonny.

Someone's at the window, Pepper said. They're trying to open it. I can hear them cursing.

It was difficult not to laugh. The stinging nettles were carefully cultivated by a woman who had a gift for the land. The plants were tall, thick and spread out, climbing up the side of the house and looking innocent. By now they had wrapped themselves around whoever had stepped up to that window.

I'll bet they're cursing. He allowed laughter to show in his voice.

Wyatt wanted Pepper to relax and realize they could do this. They hadn't even been prepared, but they'd send the guards home empty-handed with no more knowledge of Pepper and Ginger's whereabouts than they had before they came.

"I'm sorry for what I did back there in the swamp, ma'am," Larry said in a little rush. "I've regretted it ever since, and when your grandson came to let me know just how he felt about it, I have to admit, I thought I deserved what I got."

To Wyatt's utter astonishment, Larry's voice rang with honesty. He might be embarrassed to come and apologize to Nonny, but he was more embarrassed that he'd treated her the way he had.

"I don't know what came over me that day. There was a leak in one of the labs and the dog went crazy and I took him out to settle him down. He isn't vicious. He does his job, but he doesn't just attack without provocation. The alarms went off and I don't half remember what happened, other than when I shoved you. It felt like I was moving through heavy fog - that someone else had done it, not me."

Wyatt stiffened. What kind

of chemicals were they testing in that laboratory? Whatever they were, they had affected both the dog and the guard. Had it been on purpose? More than ever he wanted to get into that lab.

"I mostly wanted my knife back," Nonny said. "It's been in ma famille for over a hundred years."

A faint smile appeared. "I really liked that knife." His smile faded. "I never saw anything like it, but every time I looked at it, I remembered what I'd done to you." Larry shook his head. "That's no excuse, but I was raised better than that." He glanced out the window as if he didn't want the other guards to hear him. "I really am sorry, ma'am, and I hope I didn't cause you any real harm."

"I accept your apology," Nonny said. "You're a good boy."

Larry started to rise and then subsided, once again glancing outside, before turning back and leaning toward her, lowering his voice even more. "Ma'am, I've heard you're kind and people around here trust you. There are things, dangerous things around right now. Be careful."

"I've been in the swamp my entire life," Nonny said. "I'm always careful, but thanks for the warnin'."

Larry looked as if he wanted to say something else, but he stopped himself and stood. Instantly the dog came to its feet as well.

"I'm glad I came, ma'am. If you come back out to the swamp to harvest, you won't get the same reception from me," Larry assured. "I'll look out for you."