Grace Under Fury

by Annabel Chase

  I sneezed. “My symptoms are flaring up. I wonder if that means the demon’s close by.”

  “Or could be that you’re smack in the middle of nature.”

  “It’s not allergies,” I said. My throat begat to tickle. “Okay, maybe it is. Gods, I hate this.”

  “You have access to powerful magic,” Corinne said. “Can’t you use a locator spell or a tracking spell?”

  “I’ve tried and failed,” I said. “This thing moves fast and often. The demon’s already gone by the time you get there.” I halted. “Like right now.” I let loose an agitated groan. “I think we lost it.”

  Corinne looked at me askance. “I get that it’s your job, but everyone has a vested interest in stopping this demon. You should ask for help.”

  “I’ve had help,” I said.

  Corinne gestured to the bushes around us. “Help for this. You know good trackers. Use them.”

  She was right. There were plenty of others willing to pitch in.

  “Oh, and just so you know, I asked out the chief,” Corinne said.

  My heart stuttered. “And?”

  Corinne smiled. “I believe his exact words were—‘sure, why not?’”

  “He seems like a great guy. Good luck with him,” I said, because I had no idea what else to say. I pulled out my phone and tapped the screen, swallowing a frustrated cry in the process.

  “Julie,” I said, pushing down the lump in my throat. “I need the pack’s help.”

  “Okay, listen up,” I said, injecting as much authority into my voice as I could muster. “I need your tracking skills because I’ve been chasing ghosts and I can’t afford any more casualties.”

  I had a small team of werewolves assembled in front of me—Julie, Meg, Hugh, and his sister, Paisley. We stood by the river not far from the vortex.

  “And you want us to track a beetle, General?” Hugh asked.

  I ignored his jab. “Not just any beetle,” I said. “It’s a borer demon. From what I can tell, it’s been growing larger with every feed.”

  “What about its scent?” Meg asked. She frowned. “Does a beetle have a scent?”

  “I have a few specimens that should help,” I said. I unzipped the backpack with leaves from the marsh as well as fragments of the bush the demon tunneled through at the promenade. “Sniff to your heart’s content.”

  “You have siphoning powers,” Hugh said. “Why not leech off one of us and become a wolf yourself?”

  I hesitated. “I try to limit the magic I use.”

  “It drains her energy,” Julie added. “If she turns into a werewolf and finds the demon, she might not have the strength to fight it.”

  I sent her a silent thank you. My cousin understood that the more powers I used, the more the gods gave me. Anytime I could find a way of achieving the same result without my supernatural abilities, that would be my choice every single time.

  “Plus wolf paws make it hard to hold a mystical hammer,” I said.

  “And we can see this demon, right?” Meg asked.

  “Any supernaturals can,” I said. “It’s only invisible to humans.”

  “This is a serious matter. A direct bite can result in death for humans.”

  “Then we need to kill it,” Hugh added. “Squash this demon like the bug it truly is.”

  “That’s what the hammer’s for,” I said.

  “Grind it into the ground,” Paisley continued. “Turn that beetle body into dust.”

  I’d forgotten how violent werewolves could be.

  “What do we do if one of us finds the demon then?” Julie asked. “We won’t have the hammer.”

  “Call me immediately,” I said. “Don’t try to attack it. If you try to kill it by any other method, it won’t work. It’s like a cockroach that way.”

  Julie gave her daughter a pointed look. “See? This is when a phone would come in handy.”

  “Who doesn’t have a phone?” Hugh asked.

  “Miss Retro Hipster over here,” Julie said.

  Meg rolled her eyes. “I’ll send smoke signals.”

  Her mother put a hand on her hip. “Oh, so a phone is the devil, but smoking is okay?”

  “Smoke signals, Mom.” Meg smacked her head.

  “Maybe we should track together so you don’t end up alone in a ditch,” Julie said. “Your father would never forgive me.”

  “If I end up alone in a ditch—I’m a werewolf—I’ll simply climb out,” Meg said.

  Hugh snickered. “You ladies don’t need to worry. If anyone can track the borer demon, it’s me.”

  “You can’t even track a local bride,” Julie said. “That’s why you had to import one.”

  Hugh’s growl was low but audible. “And the sooner we find this pest, the sooner I get to my honeymoon night, so let’s get on with it.”

  “How do you all plan to carry your phones in wolf form?” I asked. “Is there some kind of kangaroo pouch for your personal items?”

  Hugh whipped up his shirt to show me a strap underneath where his phone was safely nestled against his skin. “It’s designed by a werewolf to stay attached even after shifting.”

  “I wish I’d invented it,” Paisley said. “I’d be rich.”

  “Mine’s monogrammed,” Hugh said.

  Of course it was.

  “What will you do?” Paisley asked me.

  “I’m going to work with Neville on distributing the potion,” I said. “But I’ll be there in a pinch if you call.” I’d cloak myself and use my wings if I had to.

  “At my signal,” Hugh began, but the women had already shifted. “Hey!”

  I stifled a laugh. “You were saying, alpha?”

  He glowered at me before shifting and running off into the woods.

  I trudged to my car and drove to the office where Neville was loading the potion bottles into boxes.

  “You’re sure these will do the trick?” I asked.

  “Take one and find out.” He handed me a small bottle.

  I downed the potion. “Minty.”

  “I thought it would help if I masked the taste.”

  “Get the first delivery to the nursing home. I’ll let Verity know in case she wants to oversee it.”

  “Where will you go?” Neville asked.

  “I’ll handle the young crowd and we’ll work our way to the less vulnerable.” Like my mother.

  “Sounds like a plan, Agent Fury.”

  “Thank you for your work on this, Neville. You’re truly saving lives.”

  I enlisted Corinne’s help in distributing as many of the potion bottles as possible. She called her grandmother, too, who called Husbourne and Aggie Grace. It was all hands on deck and I appreciated it.

  I checked my phone throughout the day, but there was no word from the wolves. To say I was disappointed was an understatement.

  Finally, Julie’s name flashed on my screen and I scrambled to answer the phone, nearly dropping it on the kitchen floor in the process.

  “Julie, where are you?”

  “Calm down, Eden. I don’t have it. I’m sorry.”

  “Did you see any sign of it?”

  “Lots of signs of it, but it’s smart and fast,” Julie said. “We’re calling it a day.”

  “All of you?” I figured at least Hugh would be stubborn.

  “Hugh’s mail-order bride kept texting him to come home, so he finally gave in,” Julie said. “She wants his opinion on seating arrangements for the wedding.”

  “He’s quite the alpha,” I said. “Thank you for your help.”

  “We can try again tomorrow,” Julie said. “The dark’s no good. It’s black and doesn’t have much of a scent. Kind of puts our tracking skills to the test.”

  “I understand. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I hung up the phone and sighed.

  “No luck, huh?” Aunt Thora asked.

  “Not yet.” I forced a smile. “We’ll get it, Aunt Thora.”

  “Darn straight. No quitters in this house.” She paused.
“Unless you count your mother’s divorce. I suppose that’s technically quitting a marriage.”

  “You’re supposed to be the nice one,” I said accusingly.

  Grandma shuffled into the kitchen. “Ha! Thora? That’s only because you didn’t know her when she was younger. She put the wicked in…wicked.”

  “That’s enough, Esther,” Aunt Thora said. “Those days are long behind me and you know it.”

  “If anyone needs me, I’ll be hiding in the barn in shameful defeat.” I expected a snappy retort, but they observed me in silence. I threw out my arms. “What? No criticism? This is the part where you kick me when I’m down.”

  Grandma opened her mouth, but Aunt Thora’s hand clamped over it before she could speak. “Not today, Eden. Not today.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stood in the empty barn in quiet contemplation. It wasn’t my home yet, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t use it. According to Verity, John had taken the potion and should recover soon, but he was still at risk until the demon was caught. We all were.

  Anton’s silhouette appeared in the oversized doorway. “Brooding, table for one?”

  “Hey, big brother.”

  “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  I shrugged. “Just the town.”

  “I hate to add to your malaise, but Verity asked me to tell you there’s been a death at the nursing home.”

  My heart plummeted. “Not Henrietta, I hope.”

  “Derek Mahon,” he replied. “Ninety. He came down with flu-like symptoms twenty-four hours ago. He got the potion, but it was too late to save him.”

  I resisted the urge to burst into tears. Instead, I dropped onto an overturned crate. “I should be good at this. Why am I so terrible?”

  “He was ninety, Eden,” Anton said, slightly exasperated. “He lived a long life for a human.”

  “But he died from supernatural causes,” I said. “That’s my only job in this town, to protect people from Otherworld influences and I’m failing miserably.”

  He knocked on one of the slabs of wood, still waiting to find its place in the barn. “You’ve really been thrown into the deep end of this job, haven’t you?”

  I laughed bitterly. “And here I thought Paul sat around all day, eating peanuts out of a jar and waiting for excitement to come along.” I felt so foolish. I’d actually asked the FBI psychiatrist if he’d died from boredom.

  “I think he did,” Anton said. “Well, I don’t know about the peanuts, but I never got the impression that he was busy hunting demons. You seem to have taken this job to a whole new level. Typical Eden.”

  I hugged my knees to my chest. “No, you’re right. Neville seems like a horse that’s finally been let out of the barn. He’s getting to use more of his skills and he loves it.”

  “Don’t forget Neville’s also been doing this longer than you,” Anton said. “Not to mention the fact that he hasn’t spent years trying to hide his true nature.”

  I met my brother’s sympathetic gaze. “I’m still hiding it, Anton. Every supernatural in this town has to do the same. Unless we all move to Otherworld, that’s our lot in life.”

  “We have plenty of opportunities to be our authentic ourselves here, though,” he said. “There’s strength in numbers.”

  “Speaking of our authentic selves, how’s your side hustle?” I asked. Although Anton’s day job was in creative advertising, he wasn’t completely out of the vengeance demon game.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I told you I’ve scaled back. And I keep my shenanigans out of this territory.”

  “What about Olivia and Ryan?” I asked. “How are you going to keep them out of the axis of evil?”

  “Verity is their mother,” he said. “She’s a strong druid and an even stronger woman. She doesn’t want them to succumb to the dark side any more than you do.”

  I gave a crisp nod. He was right. Verity possessed a quiet strength that was often overlooked in our house. We were too accustomed to noise and aggression.

  “Is that what attracted you to her?” I asked.

  “No, that was the tight sweater she was wearing the day we met.”

  I groaned. “Figures.”

  He kicked the crate out from under me and I fell to the floor. “But it didn’t take me long after that to figure out she was the one for me. I had to work hard for it, though. She wasn’t interested.”

  “Because she could tell you were a damp squib.”

  “Nothing damp about my squib until both parties have been satisfied.”

  I groaned louder.

  He grinned. “That’s not quite the right sound, but you’re close.”

  I shot to my feet. “Gross, Anton.”

  “Anyway, my point is that Verity didn’t want anything to do with me because of our family’s reputation. I had to prove that I was willing to change. I had to earn her.”

  “Men don’t change,” I said. “That’s a myth.”

  “Do you think I shifted away from vengeance because I suddenly grew a conscience?” he asked. “That was Verity’s influence.”

  “She nagged the evil out of you?” Now there was a trick.

  “Have you ever heard her nag? No. She showed me how to live a better life by example. How to be a better supernatural in this world.” He picked up a two by four and swung it like a baseball bat. “Do you think I wanted to end up like Mom and Dad?”

  “Nobody wants that,” I said quietly.

  “Dad loves being a vengeance demon,” Anton said. “It’s all he knows and he’ll never change. He and Mom were too volatile together.”

  “There was no balance,” I said. “Too much yin and no yang.”

  “Verity and I have softened each other’s edges,” Anton said. “She’s learned to accept the complexity of my nature, that she can love someone capable of terrible things.”

  “Capable is the salient word in that sentence,” I said.

  “The truth is we’re all capable of terrible things, Eden, even your cowboy.”

  I perked up. “My cowboy?”

  “Chief Fox. He walks around with a gun. He’s trained to kill.”

  “He would never…”

  “He would if he had to,” Anton interjected. “That’s the job. To deal the death blow is a terrible thing, regardless of the reason. The older my children get, the more I see it.”

  I stared at my big brother in awe. I’d never heard him sound so…mature.

  “Maybe you and the chief aren’t as impossible as you think,” Anton continued. “You’d soften each other’s edges the way Verity and I have.”

  “It’s different,” I said. “Verity is a druid. Chief Fox is pure human. The guy’s from Iowa, for gods’ sake. He’s shocked by the scandalous variety of pizza here.”

  Anton chuckled. “Give the guy some credit. He might just enjoy a little sriracha on his corn on the cob.”

  “He might get some, but it won’t be from me.” I couldn’t bear to tell him about Corinne, not when I was already feeling so low.

  I waved my hands. “Okay, that’s enough pep talk from you. I think I like it better when we bicker.”

  “That’s your comfort level,” Anton said. “But we’re working on it, right? I don’t want us to be like Mom and Grandma.”

  I smiled. “That’s only because you don’t have resurrection powers.”

  “It does put me at a distinct disadvantage,” he said.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “Killing has never been my jam. Just ask the borer demon.”

  “Nobody really cares whether you kill it, Eden. Just that it stops terrorizing the town.”

  I nodded gravely. “That’s all I want, too.”

  “Why don’t we drop in on Dad and Sally?” Anton asked. “We never go over together. It might freak him out. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  “I know what you’re doing,” I said.

  Anton cast me a sidelong glance. “Good. Let me know because I don
’t have a clue.”

  “You’re not letting me mope. You figure if I keep busy, I won’t succumb to my feelings of failure.”

  He straightened and smiled. “I was going with misery loves company, but yours makes me sound pretty clever. I like it.”

  Together, we crossed the yard until we entered my father’s house via the kitchen.

  “Hey, Dad…” I stopped abruptly when I spotted Michael Bannon in the living room.

  “Eden, Anton, you’ve met Mr. Bannon, haven’t you?” Sally asked. “He moved into Dudley’s old house recently.”

  “Yes,” I said carefully.

  Anton frowned. “This is the guy who’s been raging on our doorstep?”

  “Raging?” my father asked. “At my children?”

  Michael stood. “I’m afraid so.”

  “It’s okay, Dad,” I said. Michael did not want to get on the wrong side of a vengeance demon.

  “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, Eden,” Michael said. “The move has been emotional for me and I’ve not been acting like myself.”

  I knew this, of course, but I had to feign ignorance. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I appreciate the apology.”

  “Michael golfs,” my father said. “Isn’t that terrific news?”

  “For whom?” Sally asked.

  “For me,” my father said. “Who else? It’ll be nice to have a neighbor to take to the country club.”

  “What about Husbourne?” I asked.

  My father scrunched his nose. “He always insists on wearing those zany outfits. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Linen suits are embarrassing?” I asked.

  “In all those cotton candy colors they are,” my father said.

  “I was just telling Michael about the cheese festival,” Sally said. “It’s such a great opportunity to see the town at its best.”

  “Plus, cheese,” I said. “You can’t go wrong there.”

  Michael gave me an unapologetic look. “Actually, my doctor put cheese on the restricted list. Heart attack city for me.”

  The four of us gasped in horror.

  “No cheese?” my father said. “What kind of monster hands down a decree like that?”

  “It’s practically a death sentence,” Sally added.

  “No, eating the cheese would be a death sentence,” Michael said.