Wyvern and Company (7 page)

Honestly, I was so mad I could have taken all of them on, but
the police showed up in less than thirty seconds. I have no idea how they got
there that fast, but I was more than grateful to see Officers Barton and Francis
get out of the first car to respond.

More police arrived as Randall and his friends began to back
away. Did he think his dad's being a member of FPD, even a suspended one—would
get him out of this mess?

Mack and I exchanged looks before opening our doors and
getting out. Randall was resisting arrest, it looked like, while his friends
stood quietly, waiting to be loaded into nearby police cruisers.

Gina got out, too, and came right to me. I wrapped my arms
around her while we watched; Randall was shoved to the ground after he kicked
Officer Barton. He was handcuffed after that and still fighting when he was pushed
into the back of a patrol car by four officers.

"We had a call on this attack, plus the footage from the
school parking lot," Officer Francis walked up to talk to us. "You
all right? Do you need assistance?"

"I think we're okay," I said. "Gina?" I
tilted her face up with a finger.

"Yeah. Just a little shaken," Gina's smile wavered.

"I'll need information on this vehicle to file an
incident report," Francis said. "It'll help with the insurance
company, too. Know any reason why he wanted to attack you?"

"Just a guess, and I have my license here," I pulled
out my wallet. "Insurance stuff is in the car."

"I'll get it," Mack offered and went back to the
Jeep.

"What's the guess?" Francis asked, writing the
information from my license on a piece of paper.

"He's mad because some of his friends died and Mack didn't.
He started out bullying him," I said. "Then his dad got suspended for
putting Mack where he did at the jail. Since I was with Mack all the time at
school, I got included in Randall's attack. He upped it when he egged and
spray-painted my Honda, then slashed all four tires."

"Why wasn't that reported?" Barton joined the
conversation.

"Because we weren't sure who we could trust on the police
force," I said bluntly.

Barton cursed softly. "Son, this isn't an attack against
you, your family or your friend, here. Emotions were running high when we were
sent to question you, but there's proof now that Mack wasn't involved. He's
lucky to be alive, the more I see of the evidence coming from Shaver Lake and
Yosemite."

"I feel lucky that he's alive, too," I agreed.

"I hate that you feel you can't trust Fresno PD now,"
Francis said. "If you have any more problems, give me a call." He
handed me a card. "Is your vehicle drivable or do you want me to have it
towed?"

"I think I can drive it—it's still running and the tires
aren't flat—Randall didn't have much time to do damage before you guys came.
Thanks for that, by the way."

"It's our job," Barton said. "Randall knows
better. I have no idea why he's blaming either of you for the circumstances in
his life."

"I don't think he knows who to blame, so we became his
targets by default," I shrugged. Gina blinked up at me, then hugged me
tighter. I didn't mind one bit.

"I wish the kids at school didn't believe him," she
said. "He said Mack was involved in that mess somehow, or he'd never have
gotten away."

"That isn't true in any sense," Barton shook his
head. "It's a miracle he was able to get away at all. Those kids don't
have access to the forensics. What we're finding is evidence of animal attacks,
just like he told us when we questioned him in the beginning. We should have
paid closer attention."

All of us watched as Dad's SUV pulled up and parked nearby.
He, Uncle Lion and Uncle Dragon climbed out and walked in our direction. "Officers?"
Dad said the minute he reached our side.

"Randall Pierce and four of his friends attacked your
wife's vehicle," Officer Francis said. "They've been arrested. I'm
sorry we didn't arrive in time to keep them from doing so much damage."

"This is the second of our vehicles they've vandalized,"
Dad pointed out.

"I understand that. The school sent us the video footage
from the school parking lot after an anonymous tip came in. We have the whole
act of vandalism recorded," Barton said. "Would you like to come to
the station and file a report?"

"Yes," Dad said. "Do you need anything else
from my son?"

"No, Mr. Griffin."

"Justin, take Gina home. I'll catch up with you at the
house. Mack's dad is waiting."

"Thanks, Dad," I breathed. I'd forgotten all about
Mr. Walters meeting Mack at the house. "After I drop Gina off, we'll go
straight home."

"Good. Officers," Dad nodded to Francis and Barton.

* * *

"It only took thirty seconds for the police to show up. I
still can't figure that out," I said, dropping my backpack on the kitchen
island with a sigh. Mom was waiting, and the first thing she asked was whether
Mack and I were hurt. "We didn't even have time to think about getting out
of the Jeep."

Mack's dad sat at the island, having a glass of tea and a
sandwich when we got home, so he was content to let Mom ask questions.

"I heard from a sergeant at the police station. He said
Randall told an acquaintance that he intended to follow you after school and
cause trouble. The boy called the police. I'm grateful they took the call
seriously," Mom said. "Sit down. Are you hungry?"

Mack and I had a sandwich, while Mack's dad had a second one. "Did
they arrest that Pierce kid?" he finally asked Mack.

"Yeah. Had to handcuff him—he kicked one of the officers
and fought with the others."

"Good. Maybe they'll hold him for a while so he can't
cause more trouble."

"I hope he's not at school tomorrow," I blew out a
breath. "It would be nice not to see him around every corner, and even
better not to have to listen to his crap."

"Mack, why didn't you tell me this before?" Martin
Walters turned dark eyes on Mack, who wriggled uncomfortably.

"Honey, I know you think it'll go away after a while, but
sometimes a lot of damage can be done, even if it does go away. You can't count
on that," Mom told Mack. "That's why we're here—to help you fight
your battles when you need that help."

"I feel the same," I said. "I'd help fight your
battles, too."

"Justin's helped me fight my battles lately," Mack
admitted. "I couldn't go to school if he wasn't with me."

"You'd stand with me," I shrugged. It was true—we'd
stood together most of our lives. Granted things had never been this bad before,
but I didn't intend for anything to be different because of it.

"Is there any way he can see Dr. Karzac again?" Mr.
Walters asked Mom quietly.

"I'll arrange it if that's what you and Mack want,"
she said.

"I'd appreciate it," Mr. Walters said.

"He's here now, let me see if he has time," Mom said
before walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. She was back in five
minutes with Uncle Karzac.

"Young one, would you like to settle on your bed while we
talk?" Karzac asked.

"Yeah—I'm comfortable there," Mack agreed. I watched
as Mack followed Karzac toward my bedroom.

"I can't say thank you enough for what you've done for
him," Martin Walters told Mom.

"I'd do anything for that boy. He feels like one of mine,
Martin, and I hope you're not offended by that."

"Offended? Hell no," Martin muttered. "I'm just
glad he has such good friends."

"He has good
family
," Mom corrected. "I'd
like to think we're part of it. Justin sees him as a brother—you know that
already."

Talk turned to the new house after that, and I was glad. I
hoped Uncle Karzac was helping Mack, too, because he wasn't talking much after
the events of the afternoon. Getting attacked by Randall Pierce, even though he
was only hitting the car with a bat, put both of us on edge.

"Honey, you haven't said what you want for your birthday,"
Mom interrupted my thoughts after a while.

"Oh. Man, I forgot all about it," I shook my head at
her. "It doesn't matter," I said. "A cake and ice cream. Mack
will like that for sure." My birthday was less than two weeks away and
with everything else that had happened, it slipped my mind. I'd be eighteen.
Mack had already turned eighteen the first week of August, so for just a few
weeks, he was a year older than I was.

This year, he'd been so preoccupied with the attack and
everything else that followed, he'd forgotten to tease me about it.

* * *

Mack talked to Karzac for more than an hour, then took a nap
afterward. He woke up around six-thirty, just in time for dinner. Mom made
chicken and dumplings, another favorite meal for both of us.

Mack's dad liked it, too, I could tell. He'd stayed to eat
with us because Beth had classes and would grab something on campus to eat. He
and Dad talked during the meal about the construction manager job with Dad's
company. I could tell Mr. Walters was going to do just fine.

* * *

"You going to the football game Friday?" I asked
Gina when we walked to class together the next morning.

"No. I have to work," she said. "I'm saving for
college. I have a scholarship lined up, but it doesn't pay for everything."

"Understood," I nodded.

"I don't have to work Sunday night," she smiled
shyly.

"How about dinner and a movie?" I asked.

"That sounds great."

"Pick you up at six?"

"Yeah."

I probably wore the goofiest grin ever as we walked down the
hall, but it was worth every second of potential embarrassment.
I had a
girlfriend and I was going on a date
.

The only thing that came close to making me that happy was
this; Mack and I learned that Randall Pierce and all four of his friends were
suspended from school for two weeks for what they'd done to my car in the
school parking lot.

For as much as my Honda had suffered, it turned out to be for
a good cause. Gina told us the news at lunch, and I watched as Mack shifted in
his seat. I could almost see the weight dropping off his shoulders, and only
realized then what the bullying had cost him.

My thought about the whole things was that Randall had to be
the worst prick ever to pick on Mack when he'd already been traumatized enough.

More news came on Thursday—the six who'd been hospitalized
after the attack would make a brief appearance at the memorial service before
the game. So far, they still hadn't spoken, but were responding to directions
and commands well enough that their doctors thought it safe for them to go out with
their families for a while.

Mom had a strange look on her face, though, when Mack and I
told her after school.

"This isn't good," she shook her head. "Look,
why don't you order pizza for dinner. I need to find your father and your uncles."

* * *

Adam's Journal

"The timing is close enough—what do you suggest we do if
they turn at the memorial service?" Kiarra asked. Joey, Dragon, Lion and
Karzac had joined us for an emergency meeting in my study. Justin and Mack were
waiting for a pizza delivery and had no idea how much danger the school could
be in.

"Whose bright idea was it to let them attend the memorial
anyway?" Joey scoffed. "That's lunacy."

"It was lunacy to arrest young Mack," Dragon pointed
out. "So far, I have failed to detect an overabundance of clear and
prudent judgment. These humans have short memories and shorter attention spans.
Just because they haven't seen further evidence of spawn, they believe the
problem eliminated. Nothing is farther from the truth."

"We're so used to seeing this on other worlds,"
Kiarra said. "And the attacks are never this soon after a previous
infestation. It has only been twenty years for us since the events in Corpus
Christi."

"Things are changing," Pheligar appeared. "I
dislike what may happen at this confrontational sporting event. Therefore, I
shall be there in disguise, in case shielding is needed to keep your efforts
from prying eyes."

"Thank goodness," Kiarra's shoulders sagged in
relief.

"Do not become overly stressed," Pheligar rubbed her
shoulders gently. "While your pregnancy is not evident at this time, it is
never good to allow anxiety to rule your life while in this condition."

I lifted an eyebrow in curiosity when a large blue hand
wandered to Kiarra's belly, where he stroked and comforted her body carefully. "The
child is growing nicely," he said softly. "We will make sure that
continues."

I'd never seen the Larentii show this much affection to
anyone, and it surprised me. Where was it coming from? Was he so angry with
Thorsten that he was allowing other emotions to surface?

Before I joined the Saa Thalarr, I would have been eaten alive
with jealousy if someone else touched my wife. Once you become a member of that
tiny, exclusive race, any jealousy you have is removed. As long as it's with Kiarra's
permission, it doesn't bother me. The same goes for me, but I have no desires
in that direction.

I'd found what I wanted.

* * *

The move Thursday happened with help from Dragon, Lion and
Pheligar. Everything we needed at the new house was transported with power
while Kiarra and I made suggestions as to placement.

Most of the furniture wasn't making the move—I wanted to
redecorate, so Kiarra let me know what she wanted and I arranged for it to
arrive at the proper time.

Clothing was sent over and landed in closets and inside
drawers. The pantry and garage were emptied. I was satisfied with all of it
when it was finished, and draped my arms about my wife while we surveyed the
new house. For me, this was home—the one from my early days with my family.

To Kiarra, she was stepping into the world I'd known so long
ago.