Grace Under Fury

by Annabel Chase

  “Our demon’s been here.”

  “Can you tell how long ago?” I asked.

  Neville crouched near the evidence and studied the area. “No. I think you’re right. It rather is like searching for a libido at a werewolf convention.”

  I laughed. “That’s a good one, Neville.”

  “Under normal circumstances, I’d suggest we try a locator spell,” he said.

  “How? We don’t have anything to use.” No fibers or hair. “Wait, what about blood?”

  Neville snapped his fingers. “Yes, the blood of its victims,” he said. “Excellent idea. Shall we use yours?”

  I recoiled. “We can’t. My blood is too powerful. It should belong to a human.”

  “Verity has collected samples, hasn’t she?”

  “She has. I think Dr. Barton sent her a sample of Henrietta Egerrton’s blood. That might work.” I hesitated. “Do you think it’ll matter if the blood is from someone with a secondary infection or do we need a Patient Zero?”

  “I think we need to try whatever we have access to,” Neville said. “If it’s only a secondary sample, then so be it.”

  We retreated to the car and swung by Verity’s office for a blood sample before riding back to my house. We headed straight to the backyard without going through the house. I didn’t need interference from the evil peanut gallery. Princess Buttercup came over to investigate and I let her sniff the vial before throwing a ball for her to fetch.

  “I suppose your barn renovation is taking longer than you’d like,” Neville said.

  “Nothing will happen until John gets better,” I said. Thankfully, his symptoms were still minor—a sign of a secondary infection—but I’d worry about him wielding any tools with a fuzzy head. He was likely to lose a finger. At least he’d been spared.

  Neville set to work creating the protective circle with rune rocks and I prepared the center. I knew magic use would be inevitable with this job, which was one of the main reasons I never wanted to serve the FBM. More magic means more fury powers and I already had more of those than I wanted. I couldn’t begin to guess what would come after wings and immortality. A beak? Talons? I shuddered imagining my future self.

  “Are you cold, Agent Fury?” Neville asked.

  I hugged myself. “A quick chill. It’s gone now.” I had to focus on finding this demon. On success. It didn’t matter what the personal cost was. People were dying. Supernaturals were sick. I couldn’t worry about my own agenda.

  “I need to grab a few herbs from inside,” I said. “I’ll be right back.” Clouds were gathering and I sensed moisture in the air.

  Princess Buttercup came to sniff Neville and he stiffened. “Her slobber is acidic, isn’t it?”

  “Sort of,” I said. “More like hot springs.”

  “Sulphuric hot springs,” Neville corrected me.

  “That’s just gas,” I called over my shoulder. I hurried into the house and slipped into the pantry without being seen. I hoped to avoid an interrogation by members of my family. Knowing my mother, she’d want to come out and critique my technique.

  I collected the herbs I needed and tiptoed out of the pantry. Alice swooped in front of me, nearly causing me to drop the herbs.

  “Alice,” I hissed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Alice said. “I wanted to tell you that I believe I spotted your demon next door earlier.”

  “Next door? In Mrs. Paulson’s yard?”

  “That’s right. It looked like a large beetle and seemed to take a shine to her vegetable garden.”

  I hovered in the hallway. Mrs. Paulson was one hundred percent human and elderly. If that demon managed to get its mandibles into her, she was as good as dead.

  “Thanks for letting me know, Alice. Do me a favor, if you see it again, will you find me wherever I am?” Alice had the ability to leave her old stomping grounds, she just opted not to most of the time.

  “If you think it’s that important.”

  “I do.”

  “You do what?” My grandmother’s voice was like icy fingers down my back.

  I spun around. “Nothing. I’m talking to Alice.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Where are you going with those herbs?”

  “I’m working,” I said.

  “Why don’t you let me help you?” she asked.

  I gestured to her robe and bunny slippers. “That’s okay. I can see you’re busy.” I rushed outside before anyone else intercepted me and returned to my place in the circle.

  “Ready?” Neville asked.

  “Eden, sit up straight,” my father’s voice boomed. “You’re slouching like your body doesn’t have a spine.”

  I opened my eyes and drew a deep breath. “I’m in the middle of a spell, Dad.”

  “Well, you need better posture or it won’t work,” he said.

  “I don’t think the magic is concerned with my posture,” I shot back.

  “Well, our tree pose worked wonders for the last spell,” Neville said. “That’s technically a posture.”

  I glared at him. “Whose side are you on?”

  My father folded his arms and observed us. “So what’s the spell for?”

  “Dad,” I said impatiently. “Do you mind? I’m trying to work.”

  “What? A father can’t watch his daughter? What are you so ashamed of? I’m sure you’ll manage the spell.”

  My fists tightened. “I’m not ashamed of anything. I just need to concentrate and that’s hard to do when your father is standing over you.”

  “Hold on.” My father walked over and adjusted my top. “Your bra strap was showing.”

  I groaned. “Dad! Who cares?”

  “This isn’t a nightclub,” my father said. “You’re in my yard.”

  “Technically, I’m in Mom’s yard and you’re trespassing,” I said.

  His expression hardened. “You did not just go there.”

  Neville seemed to sense a storm brewing. Literally. Dark clouds clustered above us and thunder rolled in the distance.

  “I need to get through this spell without an audience, please,” I said. Maybe politeness would work. It didn’t always, but one could live in hope.

  “Fine,” my father snapped. “Sally’s making more cheese dip for the festival. I’ll go and watch her work since she doesn’t have a complex.”

  I wanted to argue and explain that my complex came from having overbearing parents who constantly berated me for not excelling in evil deeds, but I knew the locator spell was more important than my warped childhood.

  “We should hurry,” Neville said. “I’m not sure this storm will wait.”

  I lit the candles and the breeze immediately blew them out. A fat raindrop landed on my hand. “Let me try one more time.” I relit the candles and took my place in the circle with Neville. I pulled the vial from my bag and opened the first lid.

  As the blood dripped from the vial into the pile of herbs, I heard a sharp intake of breath. I glanced up to see Mrs. Paulson inside the gate. She clutched a basket of muffins to her chest.

  “Uh oh,” Neville breathed.

  “That’s an understatement,” I said. I forced a smile and waved with my non-vial of blood-holding hand. “Hello, Mrs. Paulson. I think it’s about to storm. You should probably head inside.”

  “Is that blood, Eden?” she asked.

  I held up the vial. “This? No, of course not. What makes you think that?”

  “Because it looks like blood.”

  “This is cranberry juice,” I said.

  “Why are you pouring cranberry juice on a pile of plants?” Mrs. Paulson asked.

  “It’s a special treatment for the garden,” I explained. “Organic pesticide. We’re still having trouble with the lemon trees.”

  “Oh, let me know if it works. I’m still having an issue in my vegetable garden. Your aunt’s remedy didn’t work.”

  I popped the lid back on the vial and set it on the ground beside me. “Is the
re something I can help you with?”

  “I came to apologize for the other day,” she said. “Bringing the chief over and making such a fuss. It was silly of me.”

  I jumped to my feet and walked over to the gate to prevent her from getting too close to the circle. There was no way the vial of blood would pass for cranberry juice up close.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We all make mistakes. Next time, if you would just talk to us before you get the police involved, we would really appreciate it. Communication is so important between neighbors.”

  “You’re so much more pleasant than the others,” Mrs. Paulson said. “Well, not Thora. She’s all right, too. Knows her way around a garden. I have to respect that.”

  “My family has a lot of talents, Mrs. Paulson.” I only wished they used them to help instead of hurt.

  “I like the lady doctor, too,” she said. “I don’t see her often, though.”

  “Verity,” I said. “My sister-in-law.” Verity would spit fire if she heard the phrase ‘lady doctor,’ not that I blamed her. It was hard to rile up a druid, but Verity’s temper spiked when it came to sexism in the medical field.

  “The muffins are for you,” Mrs. Paulson said. She peered over my shoulder at Neville. “He seems to want your attention.”

  I twisted to see Neville pointing at the threatening sky and then the circle.

  “That’s our gardener,” I said. “He said we need to get this new pesticide ready before the storm or it’ll ruin it.”

  “I won’t keep you then.” She thrust the basket into my chest. “They are two kinds. Banana nut and cinnamon.”

  “Thank you so much. I appreciate the gesture.”

  “Agent Fury,” Neville called.

  Mrs. Paulson frowned. “Your gardener calls you Agent Fury?”

  “He’s very formal.” I craned my neck. “Be right there!”

  Mrs. Paulson backed away toward the gate, one wary eye pinned on us. Only when she disappeared from view did Neville and I perform the spell. We watched the center of the circle eagerly as the spell revealed—nothing. No location. Nothing at all.

  “We need blood from a primary sample,” I said. Something we didn’t have.

  “Right now, we need to seek cover, Agent Fury.”

  The heavens opened and rain pummeled our circle, dousing the flames and washing away the blood.

  “Mother Nature seems angry with us,” I said.

  “She’s not the only one.” Neville pointed to the back door, where my mother stood with her hands cemented to her hips.

  “Is that my good copper bowl in the rain?” she yelled.

  “Sweet Hecate.” I scooped up the bowl. “Coming in now!”

  “Tell her I’m going back to the office to work on the potion,” Neville said. “That’ll cheer her up.”

  I gave him a thumbs up and ran into the house, clutching the bowl under my shirt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Corinne and I sat at a table in Magic Beans and scrutinized a map of the town. I’d marked all the places we’d discovered the borer demon had been, trying to figure out where it might turn up next. It was pretty much whack-a-demon.

  “It likes marshes, but also populated areas,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s an extroverted introvert,” Corinne said. “It likes a bit of social interaction but then needs to recharge by itself.”

  I peered at her. “It’s not making lunch plans with an old friend. It’s feeding.” I tapped the map. “I think it might feed and then go back to the marshes for a post-meal nap.”

  “So it started with leafy greens and then moved on to flesh and blood?” Corinne appeared disgusted by the idea.

  “I think so. It’s like a kid who always had to eat healthy suddenly being let loose in a food court.”

  Corinne shuddered. “I know I’ve given you a hard time, but I don’t know how you do this job, Eden.”

  “I’m no expert,” I said. “Drug trafficking, yes. Demon invasion? Not so much.”

  “One borer demon hardly qualifies as an invasion.”

  “It does when it wreaks this much havoc,” I said. “Can you imagine what a swarm of them would be capable of? That’s why keeping an eye on the portal is so important.”

  Her expression clouded over. “Because even dormant volcanoes can surprise us every century or so.”

  My phone buzzed on the table and I glimpsed Clara’s picture. “Hey,” I said. “I’m in Magic Beans with Corinne.”

  “Corinne LeRoux?” Clara’s shock was evident.

  “She’s helping me with the case.”

  “That’s why I’m calling,” Clara said. “You might want to come down to the promenade.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I saw it,” she said in a loud whisper.

  “The borer demon?”

  “Yes, it’s…not as small as I expected.”

  Great balls of a minotaur. “Where on the promenade?”

  “Near Pecorino Place. It shot through some bushes. I’ll wait here and show you.”

  “I’ll be right there.” I instinctively reached for the hammer in a bag at my feet.

  Corrine gave me a curious look. “The demon?”

  “Yes.”

  She grabbed her purse. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Are you sure? I might need to…kill it,” I said. “It could be messy and unpleasant.”

  She eyed me. “Which part are you uncomfortable with? The messy part or the killing part?”

  “Both,” I said. “The demon didn’t come here on purpose to hurt anyone.”

  “But it’s here now,” Corinne said, “and it’s hurting people. We have to stop it.”

  I didn’t argue. I knew she felt a sense of responsibility and I wasn’t about to deprive her of the chance to make it right.

  We left the shop and she locked the door behind us. “I’ll drive. My car’s right there.” She pointed to a Honda Civic down the block.

  “Mine’s closer.”

  “I’ve seen you drive, Eden Fury,” she said. “I’m not playing a role in any more chaos in this town.”

  “Fair enough.” I followed her to the Honda and climbed into the passenger seat. The car was surprisingly grubby with empty wrappers and napkins strewn across the floor and backseat.

  “Sorry about the mess,” she said. “I let my mom borrow my car this week and haven’t had a chance to clean it yet.” She started the car and pulled onto the road.

  “Why would you clean your mom’s mess?” I asked. And why was Rosalie so disrespectful of her daughter’s property?

  “She’s not going to do it,” Corinne said matter-of-factly. “So it has to be me.”

  “Then don’t let her borrow your car,” I said.

  Corinne tossed me a knowing look. “Because it’s that easy to say no to family, right?”

  I slumped in the seat. “Look, I know it’s tough when it’s your mom, but she knows magic. Can’t she just do a tidying spell?”

  Corinne turned onto Roquefort Road. “That’s not our kind of magic.”

  I cut her a quick glance. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I don’t know a cleanup spell and I doubt my mother does either. Our coven’s magic is more elemental.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I bet there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”

  I sneezed in triplicate. “Happen to have any clean tissues in this mess?”

  She angled her head toward me. “Under your seat there should be a box.”

  I reached under and, sure enough, there was a rectangular tissue box. I blew my nose. “I hope Neville finishes that potion today so I can start distributing it.”

  “Any idea how you’ll get the humans to take it?”

  “Verity said she’ll take care of it. I’ll handle the supernaturals.”

  “Not by yourself,” Corinne said. “Whatever you need, I’m available.”

  “Thanks.”

  C
orinne parallel parked the car between two jeeps with the deft skill of a city girl.

  “Two points to Hufflepuff,” I said, motioning to the park job.

  Corinne scrunched her nose. “Do I look like a Hufflepuff to you?”

  “I don’t know. What does a Hufflepuff look like?”

  “I’m clearly a Gryffindor,” she said.

  “I guess that makes me a Slytherin,” I said. Big surprise.

  We vacated the car and hurried to where Clara waited on the promenade. She was texting on her phone when we arrived.

  “I’m supposed to be down here covering the new flower beds that the town put in,” Clara said with a roll of her eyes.

  “Front page news there,” Corinne said.

  “Cawdrey’s been sick so you’d think my assignments would improve,” Clara said.

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Cal is sitting on all the good stories until his star reporter is better?”

  “Something like that.” Clara pointed to the bushes. “There’s the trail.”

  It looked as though something had cut a hole straight through the bushes. “It made a tunnel.”

  “I didn’t think it would be smart to chase it,” Clara said.

  “No, not with your human blood,” I said. “Too risky.”

  “Do you want me to wait here in case it circles back?” Clara asked.

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to endanger you. Corinne and I will follow the trail and see where it leads. You just stay clear of the area.”

  “I’ll head back to the office and write up the scintillating story of the flower beds,” Clara said.

  “Thanks for letting me know. You’ve been a huge help.” I shifted my focus to Corinne. “Are you ready?”

  “You’ve got the hammer, right?” Corinne asked.

  I removed it from the bag. “The only kind of accessory I’m into these days, much to my mother’s chagrin.”

  “I bet I can find you a pair of earrings to match the handle,” Corinne joked.

  Clara made herself scarce as Corinne and I ventured into the bushes.

  “Here, scary magic beetle. Here, boy,” I called. I pushed aside the wall of greenery and scoured the area for the demon’s trail.

  Corinne arched an eyebrow. “Why not just throw a tennis ball and see if the demon chases it?”