Fury Godmother

by Annabel Chase

  “It’s in his best interest,” Adele said. “He’s a supernatural, too.”

  “I don’t know about anyone else,” Hugh began, “but I have a busy day tomorrow, so I suggest we get started.”

  I listened to Aggie read the minutes from the last meeting. There wasn’t much to report. Some supernaturals had been a bit rattled by the recent murders and the appearance of the fear demon, but no one had acted out of line with supernatural ordinances. These rules weren’t publicly available, of course, but every supernatural family in town had access to them. That way no one could claim ignorance.

  “Mrs. Huntington is complaining about her flowerbeds again,” Adele said.

  Everyone groaned.

  “Why does she complain to the council about her flowerbeds?” I asked.

  “Because she insists the werewolves are watering her lawn, if you understand my meaning,” Adele said.

  “That woman is obsessed with her gardens,” Husbourne said, exasperated.

  “She is a gnome,” Aggie pointed out.

  Hugh shook his head. “No one is venturing anywhere near Mrs. Huntington’s flowerbeds. I checked it out myself the last time she filed a claim. The only animal I smelled there was a cat.”

  “Well, she does own three of them,” Aggie said. “I imagine one of them is the culprit.”

  “She just has a thing against werewolves,” Husbourne said. “I recall a few years back when she complained that a werewolf was mussing up her garbage cans. Turned out to be a raccoon.”

  “We don’t want her calling the police station,” Aggie said. “That would be a real headache for all of us.”

  “I’ll speak to her,” Adele offered. “She doesn’t mind witches so much.”

  “Speaking of the police, what’s the verdict on the new chief?” Husbourne asked. “Supers have been asking me, but I haven’t had the privilege of meeting him myself yet.”

  “Eden, you worked with him during the investigation into Chief O’Neill’s death,” Adele said. “What do you think of him?”

  “Well, I admired his technique.” And his physique. And his sea-green eyes. “He seems to have a good head on his shoulders.”

  “And good shoulders, too, from what I hear,” Adele said with a smirk. “My granddaughter is itching to get to know him better.”

  I tensed at the mention of Corinne’s interest in the chief, which was silly. I barely knew him. Not to mention the fact that he was human and I was a vengeful fury in the making. It would be a mistake to get involved with him on anything more than a professional level. And I repeated this mantra to myself every time I found my mind wandering in his direction.

  “He doesn’t know that the real killer was a fear demon, does he?” Hugh asked.

  “No, definitely not,” I said. “Chief Fox will be as in the dark as Chief O’Neill was.” What would he think of me if he ever knew the truth?

  “What about news from the FBM?” Hugh asked. “Anything to report, Eden? Paul used to give us a mini-briefing every month.”

  “Nothing at the moment,” I said. “The fear demon was returned to Otherworld. I’ve been getting up to speed on everything in the office and checked out the portal. Still dormant.” I smiled and knocked on the table for luck.

  Rafael entered the room with our round of drinks and the appetizers. I sniffed the glass of golden liquid that he set in front of me. It smelled sweet. “What is it?”

  “It’s called Fairy Dust,” Aggie said. “An old recipe that I gave to Rafael some time ago. Closest we’ll get to nectar. He doesn’t keep it on the menu, but he’s kind enough to serve it to us during our monthly meetings.”

  I swallowed a mouthful. “Delicious.”

  “Dig in,” Adele said, gesturing to the plates of spinach and artichoke dip. “Nobody makes this like your cousin. He elevates it to an art form.”

  I was glad Rafael was using his talents for good, unlike certain members of my family.

  “We do have one matter of a more serious nature to discuss,” Husbourne said. He wore a solemn expression. “There are reports of a turning.”

  Aggie gasped. “A turning? Here in Chipping Cheddar?”

  “Afraid so,” Husbourne said.

  “This sounds like my territory,” I said. “Why hasn’t the FBM been alerted?”

  “Because the case hasn’t been confirmed yet,” Husbourne explained.

  “How do we confirm it without an investigation?” I asked.

  “The man doesn’t seem to be any danger,” Husbourne said. “In fact, he’s refused to leave his house.”

  “What about the one that turned him?” Hugh asked. “Seems to me that we’ve got a danger to the community right there.”

  “I’ll speak to him,” I said. “It should be my job anyway. What’s his name?”

  “William Hickes,” Husbourne said. “Lives on Bleu Cheese Court. Number five.”

  “Thanks.” I made a mental note to pay Mr. Hickes a visit tomorrow. If this really was a turning, then we had a very serious crime on our hands. Vampires living in this world were prohibited from turning anyone or drinking human blood straight from the tap. A violation meant a return to Otherworld or, even worse, the death penalty.

  We finished our nibbles and drinks and chatted for a few more minutes about the state of the economy, the decent weather, and my return to town. I was relieved when the meeting finally adjourned because I didn’t want to share the details of my transfer from the FBI. They didn’t need to know that I’d siphoned powers from a vampire and had momentarily become one myself—nearly killing my partner in the process.

  I left the private room to seek out Rafael’s wife and sixteen-year-old daughter in the main dining area. From a table in the corner, Meg caught my eye and waved.

  “How was your first meeting?” Julie asked. The werewolf had been a surprise choice of bride for Rafael, a dedicated warlock.

  “I have my work cut out for me,” I said vaguely. I didn’t want to spread alarm over a possible turning. It was the kind of news best kept quiet.

  “I’m glad you’re on the council now,” Julie said. “It’ll be good to have a family member with their eyes and ears on supernatural affairs.”

  “It makes sense as part of my new job,” I agreed.

  “I bet your mom and grandma are happy,” Julie whispered. “They’ve always hated that Adele was on the council.”

  I suppressed a smile. “Can you imagine one of them on the council, though? I can’t imagine how many complaints they’ve triggered over the years.” My family wasn’t known for towing the line. It was a miracle my father managed to have a long-standing friendship with the chief of police.

  “Between the FBM and the council, you’re going to be a popular supernatural in town,” Julie said. “You’ll have your finger on the pulse of this community.”

  “Hey, that reminds me,” I said, turning toward Meg. “Who’s Mitsy Malone?”

  Meg laughed. “You, too? I think the whole world knows her now.”

  “Now?” I queried. “Why, what did she do?”

  “Nothing as far as I know,” Meg said. “She has a YouTube channel, but she talks about books.”

  “And what’s wrong with books?” Julie asked. “You love to read.”

  “I know,” Meg replied. “I’m not knocking it, but how many YouTubers are famous for talking about books? It’s weird.”

  “I don’t know any famous YouTubers at all,” Julie said. “So I don’t understand it on any level.”

  “I’m surprised you’d know anyone on YouTube, Meg,” I said. According to my mother, Meg was a teen hipster who eschewed social media and other mainstays of her generation.

  “I have a computer at home,” Meg said. “I use it…sometimes.”

  Julie elbowed me. “Tell her she needs a phone, Eden. Tell her about all the horrible monsters out there that you have to protect us from.”

  “Well, to be fair, it’s only been one fear demon,” I said.

  “And wh
at if the fear demon had attacked Meg?” Julie asked. “Without a phone, how would she have called for help?”

  “Fear demons don’t necessarily attack directly,” I said. And a phone didn’t help his three victims either.

  Julie focused on her daughter. “What if you get kidnapped?”

  “I’m sure he’ll take my phone first,” Meg replied. “Then you’ll be out a daughter and an expensive phone.”

  Julie wasn’t prepared to give up just yet. “What if you’re lost?”

  “Lost how? I don’t drive yet.”

  “In the woods,” Julie said.

  “I’m a werewolf,” Meg said. “How would I get lost in the woods?”

  “I don’t know.” Julie waved a hand airily. “Maybe you’d go somewhere new so you could smoke cigarettes without getting caught.”

  “Gross.” Meg wrinkled her nose. “I’d never ingest that garbage into my lungs.”

  “You need a phone,” Julie insisted. “You won’t have any friends. That’s how they all communicate these days.”

  “Mom, stop with the fear-mongering!” Meg said. “You always envision the worst-case scenario for everything. I have friends. I live in a safe town. I have a computer at home. A phone isn’t a necessity at this point in my life.”

  I had to admire Meg’s fortitude.

  “Maybe if you stop pushing, she’ll eventually decide she wants a phone on her own.” I knew how stubborn I could be at Meg’s age. The harder my parents pushed, the deeper my toes dug in. Okay, that behavior may have continued all the way until…now.

  “I bet Mitsy Malone has a phone,” Julie said.

  “She does and she’s on it all the time,” Meg said. “Everyone’s always texting her, like her fame is going to rub off on them. It’s not osmosis.” She slumped in her chair. “I feel sorry for David.”

  “Who’s David?” I asked.

  “Her boyfriend,” Meg said. “He’s a really nice guy and they’ve been together for over a year.”

  “Why feel sorry for him?” Julie asked. “It’s nice for the woman in a relationship to shine.”

  “I guess so,” Meg said. “But the whole thing is odd. David does the YouTube channel with her, but her popularity has skyrocketed, yet no one pays him any more attention than they ever did.”

  “She is pretty,” I said.

  Meg shrugged. “She sure seems to like the attention. Even the teachers are favoring her. I heard she got out of writing her English essay because Ms. Hunt is such a fan.”

  “Well, it is a YouTube channel about books,” Julie said diplomatically. She shifted her attention to me. “Was that Hugh Phelps I saw in the council meeting?”

  “I figured you’d know him,” I said. “I only remember his dad.”

  “His sister used to babysit me,” Meg said. “Paisley.”

  “I don’t remember either one of them from school,” I admitted. The local high school wasn’t huge, but there were enough kids that it was difficult to know and remember everyone.

  “Hugh would’ve graduated before you started,” Julie said. “Paisley was two years ahead of you, I think.”

  “She was a great babysitter,” Meg said. “We bonded over the whole werewolf thing. She’s very militant about shifting, though. Won’t take a potion or anything to stop the change because it’s natural.”

  “The whole family is like that,” Julie added. “That’s why we never mixed with them socially very often. They also don’t like that I married Rafael.”

  “They try to keep relationships within the pack?” I asked.

  “There’s not enough of a pack to support that attitude,” Julie said. “If that’s what they want, they should move to Otherworld where they won’t be inbreeding.”

  “You never know, Meg,” I said. “In a few more years, you might be Hugh’s type.”

  Meg grimaced. “He’s old.”

  I leveled a gaze at her. “Old or too old for you?”

  “Fine, too old for me.”

  “I actually think Hugh is more open to dating other species,” Julie said. “I’ve seen him here with dates and they’ve mostly been human.”

  “Like Kyle Radnor,” Meg said. “He married a human.”

  “I wouldn’t remind the pack of that fact right now,” Julie said. “If gossip is to be believed, his wife is having an affair with another human.”

  “Does Kyle know?” I asked.

  “I doubt it,” Julie said. “He’s a werewolf. If she provoked his jealous side, we’d know about it by now.”

  “Dad always says it’s dangerous to become romantically involved with humans,” Meg said. “That’s why I plan to stay single forever.”

  “You won’t always feel that way,” Julie told her.

  “I might,” Meg replied. “Look at Eden.”

  “Eden will meet a nice young demon and settle down right here in Chipping Cheddar, won’t you?” Julie patted my hand reassuringly.

  I managed a weak smile. “From your lips to the gods’ ears.”

  For once in my life, I really hoped the gods weren’t listening.

  Chapter Four

  “Can you believe John decided not to renovate the barn?” My mother’s arms were cemented to her hips and she stared at me, as though I were somehow to blame.

  “What happened?” I asked. “He seemed excited to take on the project.”

  “He’s not a carpenter anymore,” my mother said. She snapped her fingers. “Just like that! Apparently, he bought a boat and intends to live there while he writes a novel.”

  I frowned. “You’re talking about John, the carpenter?”

  “No, she’s talking about John the Baptist,” Grandma interjected. “Jesus was the carpenter.”

  “Thanks for the religion lesson, Grandma.” I faced my mom. “I got the impression John enjoyed his work. Now he wants to write a book?”

  “I was surprised, too, but I suppose this is what money does to a person,” my mother huffed.

  “Money? Did he get some kind of inheritance?” I asked.

  Aunt Thora glanced up from her needlework. “No, dear. He won the lottery. The cashier at the grocery store told me. Everyone in town is talking about it.”

  “Wow.” I’d never met anyone who’d actually won the lottery. “How much?”

  “I heard a cool mill,” Aunt Thora said.

  Grandma squinted at her. “A cool mill? What are you—a gangster’s moll?”

  “Like you don’t abbreviate words,” Aunt Thora said in an accusatory tone.

  “I abbreviate the right words,” Grandma replied.

  “Now he’ll never date me,” my mother complained. “He’ll be too rich.”

  “Yes, that’s why,” Grandma said.

  My mother balked. “What? You think a young stud like that can’t be attracted to me?”

  I closed my eyes. “Please don’t use the word stud within earshot of me.”

  “Why are you closing your eyes?” Grandma asked. “Your ears are the issue.”

  “So do we have any other contenders for the barn?” I asked, because I was going to need to move out of this house soon if I intended to retain my sanity.

  “I have a call in to Norm Capelli,” my mother said. “He worked on the barn on the old Eaton property and it looks fabulous.”

  “What about Anton’s contractor?” I asked. “The one who’s remodeling his house?”

  My mother’s eyes bulged. “No, we can’t do anything that would interfere with Anton’s renovations.”

  “I second that,” Grandma said. “These children are constantly underfoot. They need their own space.”

  I surveyed the kitchen. “There are no children here now.” I knew Olivia was at school. “Where’s Ryan?”

  “Napping,” my mother said.

  Right. Ryan’s naptime was usually when my father decided to sneak his grandson out of the house for a play date.

  “Let me know what Mr. Capelli says,” I said.

  “Where are you going?”
my mother asked.

  “I want to talk to Dad,” I said.

  “Tell him about the carpenter so I don’t have to text him,” my mother said.

  I nodded and went out to the backyard to whistle for Princess Buttercup, my hellhound. To any humans without the Sight, she looked like a black and white Great Dane. I found her as a puppy, abandoned at the entrance to the underworld.

  Princess Buttercup came bounding around the side of the house with a branch in her mouth. Part of the branch had disintegrated thanks to the hellhound’s acidic slobber. She dropped what was left of the branch at my feet.

  “I can’t throw this,” I told her. “It’s falling to pieces.”

  The hellhound hung her head.

  “I’m going to see my dad,” I said. “Want to come?” I picked up a different branch and threw it toward my father’s yard. I had a good arm—one of my supernatural qualities that I only tended to use in connection with fetch.

  Princess Buttercup chased the branch and I crossed the yard to my father’s house, where he lived with Sally, my stepmom. I would’ve moved in with my father until I got my own place, but Sally’s a vampire with OCD tendencies and I knew she’d find another occupant difficult. I had no doubt she wiped down the door handles after each visit.

  I entered through the backdoor and straight into the kitchen, where my father was opening and closing cabinet doors.

  “Stanley, why would you leave your glasses in a cupboard?” Sally said.

  “I wouldn’t,” my dad replied. “But I can’t find them anywhere else.”

  Sally pinned her gaze on the hellhound. “I just washed the floors, Eden.”

  Princess Buttercup gave me a sorrowful look.

  “Sorry,” I said. I held open the door and the hellhound returned outside with the branch. I suspected she’d end up digging a hole in their yard for spite.

  “Would you like a drink, darling?” Sally asked. She looked elegant with her golden blond hair cut just below her ears and her white pantsuit adorned with a shiny gold belt. A simple gold necklace completed the ensemble. She was the most glamorous suburban vampire I’d ever met.