Pooka in My Pantry

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Pooka in My Pantry Page 18

by R. L. Naquin

His sadness and self-recrimination were like tiny bee stings on my skin. “She was using you.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I was her housekeeper and her waiter, nothing more. On top of that, she was still going off to see the bridge troll she’d cheated on me with in the first place.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” I felt selfish, being so glad to have him home. I wanted him to be happy, honestly I did. But there was a tiny part of me jumping up and down with joy that he was home. I’d been so afraid he’d never come back. Considering how many years I’d lived happily alone, that said a lot. Maurice was awkward, freaky looking, and sometimes invasive, but he was part of my family now. I wanted him home safe with me. Even if he never baked me another muffin.

  He shrugged and ducked his head. “Whatever. Live and learn, right? I like doing those things. Cooking and cleaning are my Zen thing, you know? But I’d rather do them for you. You don’t expect it. And you appreciate it. Pansy never appreciated anything. It took this last visit to realize that. This is my home. I know that now.”

  I hugged him again. “Welcome home,” I said into his ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  This is how Sara found me when she threw open my bedroom door.

  She screamed. Her eyes were like asteroids, and her face was frozen in the scream long after her throat had cut it off. It would have been comical if it weren’t so horrible.

  She turned and fled down the hall.

  “Sara, wait!”

  I ran after her and caught her dumping her purse on the bed. She rummaged through the pile, and her hand emerged holding a taser. “Get back, Zoey. I’ll take care of this.”

  I was impressed with her bravery, but I couldn’t allow her to tase my closet monster, no matter how scary he looked. I blocked the door. “Sara, let me explain.”

  “Move out of my way, Zoey. Are you crazy? He was strangling you. Call 911 while I knock him out.” She tried to shove past me but I wouldn’t budge.

  “Sara, stop!”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? He’ll get away.”

  “Would you listen to me, already? He lives here.”

  She pulled up short. “What kind of kinky crap are you into? And what about Riley?”

  I couldn’t quite grasp what she was talking about. “Kinky crap?”

  She relaxed, but still grasped the taser in an iron fist. “I get it. I understand role-playing. But that is one creepy-ass costume. And since when do you let a guy move in with you and not tell your best friend?”

  “Wait, you think—oh, jeez. Okay. Sara, I’m going to need you take a deep breath, come sit in the kitchen with me, and keep an open mind.”

  “Is he the guy who kept cleaning up behind me yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, the house isn’t haunted.”

  “No.”

  “But you lied to me and let me think I was going crazy.”

  “Yes. But there’s a really good reason, honest.”

  I grabbed her hand and led her into the kitchen. Maurice was already there, making a pot of tea and rummaging around in the fridge. Under the harsh light of the kitchen fluorescents, it had to be clear he wasn’t wearing a costume. He glanced at me and nodded to say he understood what came next. He refused to look at Sara.

  We sat at the table. Sara faced Maurice, keeping a wary eye on him. Sometimes Maurice moved so fast it was difficult for me to see him, but he kept himself to a normal, human pace while Sara watched. I was grateful. This was going to be hard enough to explain.

  “So,” I said, clutching my tea like it would guard me against sudden best friend outbursts. “This is all going to be hard to believe, but you need to bear with me, okay?”

  She raised one eyebrow. “That’s not a costume, is it?”

  I shook my head slowly. “No. It’s not. This is Maurice.”

  He turned toward her, raised a hand in half-wave, then turned away to preheat the oven.

  Sara leaned close to me and whispered. I could have told her whispering wouldn’t do much good, since Maurice’s ears were supernaturally attuned to sound. “What’s wrong with him?”

  I took a sip and swallowed. “Nothing as far as I know. He’s the only closet monster I’ve ever met. I don’t have any basis for comparison.”

  She looked skeptical. “No, seriously, Zoey. Is it a medical thing or body modification?”

  “Closet monster.”

  “Come on.”

  “Sara, there’s been a lot going on lately that I haven’t told you.” I met her gaze. “You know that bear you saw?”

  She put her cup down, getting pissed. “You’re going to tell me now I really did see Bigfoot, aren’t you?”

  “No. He’s a skunk-ape, though I guess he’s a relative of Bigfoot.”

  “They’re cousins,” Maurice said, sliding a sheet of maple-walnut scones into the oven.

  “Seriously?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Well, third cousins, I guess. Their grandmothers were sisters, or something.”

  “Huh. I thought skunk-apes were a totally separate species.”

  He ran water into the sink to wash up the dishes. “Well, it’s a small community. Crossovers happen all the time.” He shrugged. “Pansy’s gargoyle family wasn’t real happy that she married a closet monster. I suppose they’re happy now that we’ve split up.”

  Sara’s face was pale and her hands shook around her mug. “Would you please stop talking like this is all normal?”

  I sympathized. I was sitting in the same spot, with my hands shaking around the same mug, when it all started for me.

  “I know this is weird, Sara. It’s been a crazy couple of months.”

  “Months? This has been going on for months and you didn’t tell me?”

  “What was I going to say? ‘Hey, Sara, guess what? A closet monster showed up in my kitchen this morning, I have a skunk-ape in my yard, and there’s a sea serpent in my swimming pool.’“

  “A sea serpent?” Her eyes flicked to the kitchen window.

  “She’s gone. They come and go around here lately.”

  “I really don’t understand this. Maybe I don’t want to understand this.” She gulped some tea, probably scorching the inside of her mouth. “This isn’t happening.”

  I took a deep breath. “Let me start at the beginning with Maurice.”

  I told her what I could, and probably far more than I should. I left out the part about the incubus nearly killing her, though I did tell her he’d been killing our clients. Mostly she sat motionless while I talked. It was a long story.

  When Maurice slid the fresh scones from the oven without using any oven mitts, she watched, but didn’t comment. I wasn’t sure if her silence was acceptance of the situation or evidence of an impending meltdown.

  “So, Riley,” she said. “He’s part of this too, I gather.”

  I told her about reapers and the bad luck curse, which was the first thing she found believable.

  “That explains a lot,” she said, breaking off a piece of scone. “You’re not the most graceful person I know, but you’re not usually the train wreck you’ve been.” She sniffed the bite of pastry she had between her fingers, then popped in into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, my God. This is incredible.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Maurice is amazing. I’ve been eating really well lately.”

  She gave me a shocked look. “And you chose not to share. Nice.”

  “Sorry. I’ll be more forthcoming with the goodies from here on out.”

  “It’s the least you can do.” She finished the scone and snatched another from the serving plate. Maurice was especially good at throwing delicious food into an awkward situation to make it go more smoothly.

  He puttered around the kitchen, shifting things, wi
ping them down. I knew he was trying to keep himself busy, but within earshot. Sara was watching him, a thoughtful crease running between her brows. He must have felt her eyes on him, because he stopped what he was doing and came over to refill her tea.

  Sara’s voice was soft. “Thanks.”

  “Certainly.” He returned to his puttering.

  “Wait. Sit down with us. Please?”

  I was surprised that she was trying so hard. I could see by the set of her shoulders she was tense. But maybe I should have expected it. Sara was good with people. It was part of her job.

  Maurice sat next to me and yanked at my arm.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Let me see what the Board did to you,” he said. His face crinkled up in a scowl. I let him have my arm and he pulled my hand close to his eyes, squinting. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Andrew spotted it. Apparently it’s written in gnome ink.”

  Sara grunted. “Andrew. So, does everybody know what’s going on but me?”

  “Andrew reads auras,” Maurice said. His nose was practically pressed against the back of my hand, trying to see the invisible sigils. “Plus, he saved her from the incubus.”

  Sara threw her hands up in the air. “Of course. I’m busy running the business and worrying about you, and you’re out fighting evil.” She grabbed another scone and dropped it on her plate. “Let’s get this clear right now—I am not your sidekick, Zoey.”

  I grinned and tugged my arm. “Nobody would ever mistake you for a sidekick, Sara. Maurice, let go. You’re making me nervous. And I have to get you caught up anyway, so I might as well tell you both what’s been going on this week.”

  When I got to the part about the Leprechaun Mafia barging into the store, Sara laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. Those short guys in the suits? Tell me you didn’t pay them off. Supernatural or not, we have principles.”

  “Of course I didn’t. At first, I figured it was all just superstition anyway—self-fulfilling prophecies and all that.” I thought about the shoes lined up on her table and about little Milo fighting for his life in a hospital. I bit my lip. “At least, that’s what I thought.”

  Maurice was up from his chair, pacing. “Holy hells. I hate those guys. My cousin Ernie lost an eye because of them. They are not to be messed with.” He plopped into his chair, facing me and gesturing wildly with his hands. “I was only gone a little over a week, Zoey. I left Iris here to watch out for you, and you still let a pooka into the house. The Leprechaun Mafia came into town, and the Board of Hidden Affairs put a hit on you.” He was up again, wearing out my floor tiles. “I swear, it takes an army to keep you safe.”

  “I am safe, Maurice.” I stood and spun around. “See? Not a scratch on me.”

  He snorted. “Don’t think I didn’t see the bruise on your cheekbone.”

  My hand fluttered up to my face and I sat. “It’s almost gone. It was stupid. I slipped.”

  Throughout Maurice’s worried tirade, Sara sipped her tea with an amused smirk on her face. She put her cup down, laughing. “I’ve been looking after her for ten years. I feel your pain.”

  Maurice sat down again, facing Sara. “I know, right? She’s completely oblivious to what’s going on around her.”

  Sara nodded with enthusiasm. “Her taste in men is appalling. She’ll trust anyone. And in the end, she gets taken advantage of.”

  “You mean Brad. Oh, he’s a prize, isn’t he? Despite my warnings, now she’s with a reaper. I mean, Riley’s a nice guy and all, but Sara, he’s a freakin’ reaper. There is nothing more terrifying, even to the Hidden.”

  “Well, I knew something was off about him. But don’t expect that she’ll listen to me. She never does.”

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m right here, guys.” I wasn’t sure how to take this. On one hand, my two best friends were finally getting to meet each other. On the other hand, my two best friends were bonding over the misery of being my self-appointed caretakers. “Not cool.”

  They both turned to look at me, almost surprised to see me there. Sara’s eyes twinkled. She was enjoying this far too much.

  “So, what else haven’t you told me?” she asked. “Why you? All this crazy stuff happens out of the blue, and the hits keep coming. But why you?”

  I shrugged. “That’s what the Board is trying to figure out, I guess. They think I might be something called an Aegis.”

  Sara shook her head. “What’s an Aegis?”

  Maurice could never sit still for long. He got himself a towel and started wiping up crumbs from the table. “It’s a rare human with special gifts. They have an affinity with the Hidden, and they help and protect whoever needs assistance.”

  “Special gifts?” Sara asked. “What special gifts?”

  “Great,” I said. “All that searching I had to do to figure out what Art was talking about, and you knew all along.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask Aggie?”

  “I did ask Aggie. She had no idea. And when we found a book with an entry about Aegises, the pages were ripped out.”

  Maurice frowned. “Zoey, your mom was an Aegis. And Aggie knew that. She helped her all the time.”

  “That’s not possible. She really didn’t know, Maurice. I’d have known if she were lying.”

  “What special gifts?” Sara asked again. “And who’s Aggie?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tuesday wasn’t much better than Monday, the way it started off. I practically had to sit on Sara to get her to stay home, and we were both running on very little sleep.

  “Zoey, I have shit to do. You’re the one with the bad luck thingy.”

  “With Silas gone, my rock covers me. I think the leprechauns whammied you because they couldn’t do anything to me.”

  Sara scowled. “I’d like to get my hands on the little shits for trashing my house. Are you sure it was them?”

  “It’s really likely. Milo nearly died after they visited Andrew, so it seems safer to assume they’re on the level until we know otherwise. I can’t get anything done if I’m worried about you, too.”

  She rolled her eyes. “90% of all accidents happen in the home.”

  “98% of all statistics are made up on the spot.”

  “Funny. What the hell am I supposed to do all day? I can’t even clean. Your house is spotless. Which, by the way, is the one thing I’m having the most trouble accepting in all this.”

  “We’ll split up. Here.” I handed her a list of calls I had to make for the Shipleys. “You finish up the stuff for Saturday’s party at The Raintree. I’ll swing by your house, meet with the insurance guy, and grab some more of your stuff.”

  She took the list. “This is ridiculous.”

  “Welcome to my life.”

  “No, I mean this list. How the hell are we going to come up with this many daisies on such short notice?”

  “Work your magic. And don’t mention it to Maurice, or he’ll do a run on all the yards in the neighborhood picking their flowers.”

  “Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

  “Do not involve him. I’ll be back as early as I can.”

  I moved toward the door, and she grabbed my arm.

  “Wait.” She chewed on her bottom lip, her face pensive. “He’s safe, right? He’s perfectly nice, but is there anything I should worry about?”

  I laughed. “Not a thing. No, that’s not true. Worry that he’ll feed you so much you’ll get too fat for your clothes.”

  “That’s just what I need.”

  “He’s been here two months and my jeans are getting tight. It’s okay to say ‘no’ if you’re not hungry. It’s just really, really hard to do.”

  * * *

  The insurance inspector was late getting to Sara’s house, and
he was a little pissy that I was the one meeting him and not Sara. Still, there was no way he could justify turning down the claim. A gaping hole had been ripped into the side of her house, and police records backed up the events. It would still be a few more days before the paperwork went through, but he admitted the claim was good. Sara could get a contractor in there immediately. I called her with the news, grabbed some of her stuff and made my way to work, stopping off at Andrew’s shop on the way.

  “How’s our boy?” I asked. I handed over a plate of Maurice’s scones.

  “He’s doing well. A little more alert, though they’re keeping him sedated for a few more days. He should be home by the end of the week.” He took the plate and peeled off the plastic wrap. His eyebrows rose. “Maurice is home?”

  I grinned. “Surprise!”

  “I bet you’re relieved.”

  “It’s good to have him home. Had a little problem though.” I told him about Sara.

  “I guess it could have gone worse.” He took a bite of a scone, and his eyelids fluttered. “God, I missed that monster.”

  “You and me both. I was getting tired of peanut butter and jelly.”

  At the office, I settled in to get some work done and realized, with Sara handling the Shipley party, I didn’t really have much going on. We’d picked up several new contracts since the recent wedding we did for the daughter of the head of the city council, but they were all six months to a year out, so didn’t need my immediate attention. It was so quiet and peaceful by myself, though. I puttered in the back room for a bit, experimenting with lace and artificial flowers and ribbons to come up with some centerpieces for Saturday.

  There were no pookas, no leprechauns, and no curses. The phone rang twice, but both times it was a vendor with good news for Saturday. I felt like I had barricaded myself into a safe zone where only good things were possible.

  I was sitting at my desk with my eyes closed, soaking in the stillness, when Riley came in.

  Vacation over. Time to be a grown up again.

  I was still angry with him, though I knew it was unreasonable. He’d been trying to help. Also, there was the matter of me going all Kung Fu on him with my crazy, supernatural bossy-pants voice. So, yeah. This was probably going to be awkward.

 

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