Page 9 of Lost

“Dogs hate red vampyres. She’ll snarl and bark and upset the whole pack,” replied the tinny voice.

“She’s gonna love me. Promise, ma’am,” Kevin said.

“You’ll be glad you took the chance,” Grandma added.

“Fine. But when she barks and goes crazy, I’m going to be very upset with you, Sylvia. And I’m bringing my .45 with me. One false move and, grandson or not, I’ll take that vamp’s head off his neck.”

“As well you should, Tina,” replied Grandma Redbird calmly.

“Be there in a sec.”

The intercom connection clicked off as the gate swung open.

“Don’t drive onto her property,” said G-ma. “Let’s just get out of the car.” She caught his gaze with hers. “The dog is going to like you, isn’t she?”

Kevin grinned. “They used to—before I was Marked. And then at Zo’s House of Night there was this cool yellow lab named Duchess. Shelovedme. So, I’m thinking we’ll be fine.”

The sound of a Polaris’ motor getting closer and closer had Grandma Redbird sighing. “Well, it is too late now if we’re wrong.”

“We’re not wrong, G-ma. Watch. I can handle this part. Dogs are awesomesauce!” Kevin walked around to the front of the car and stood just outside the property line before the open gate.

The Polaris roared up, sliding to a stop in front of them. Kevin had to squint against the glare of the vehicle’s lights, but he could see a short woman—probably somewhere around his g-ma’s age. She had a crazy mane of wavy silver-gray hair with streaks of deep purples, pinks, and blues scattered through it. She was old, but her body was still trim, which was obvious because she was wearing yoga pants tucked into turquoise cowboy boots, and a sweatshirt that proclaimedKALEin Yale-styled letters. Holding a cocked .45, she got lithely out of the Polaris, followed by a small, black brindle terrier.

“Hello, Tina. This is my grandson, Kevin.”

“Good evening, ma’am,” Kevin said politely.

“We’ll see how good it is,” the old woman grumbled.

“Hey! It’s a Scottie dog!” Kevin exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted one of them. I think they’re the coolest little dogs ever.”

Tina’s green eyes studied Kevin. “You don’t sound like a red vampyre.”

“That’s because I’m a different kind of red vampyre,” he said.

“A good kind,” Grandma added.

“Impossible,” said Tina.

“Show her, u-we-tsi.”

Kevin crouched and smiled at the little terrier. “Hey there, little girl! You’re super pretty. Wanna come here and let me pet you?”

The dog studied him as carefully as the woman at her side.

“Her name is Babos.”

“Babos—that’s a cool name. Hi, Babos.” He held out his hand. “Come here, girl.”

The little dog hesitated, ears pricked at Kevin. She lifted her head and sniffed the air.

“Sorry I don’t have any treats for you. I’ll know better next time. But I promise that I’m a pretty good chin scratcher.” He made chin-scratching motions with his fingers. “Come here, Babos. Give me a try.”

The Scottie tilted her head, sniffed the air again, and then with a little huff she trotted directly to Kevin, who smiled and told her she was the smartest, prettiest, sweetest Scottie girl he’d ever seen, while he fulfilled his promise and scratched her bearded chin as she wagged her tail enthusiastically.

“Huh. Would never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” said Tina. “What is he?”

“I told you. He’s my grandson. And he’s going to change everything.”