by Leia Stone
“And if it is a fog demon, how do we vanquish it?” my father asked.
“I have no idea. In the children’s story I grew up hearing, the hero used a ten witch pentacle to kill it. Or something like that.”
Both Tianna and Cho made a slight strangling noise in their throats.
“A ten witch pentacle?” Tianna asked in an agitated voice.
Cass nodded. “Purely fairy tale, I’m sure.”
Cho and Tianna shared a dark look.
“Oh no. What is it?” I asked.
Tianna couldn’t seem to find her words, so Cho spoke for her: “Only the darkest creatures of the underworld need to be taken down by a ten witch pentacle. It’s a spell of near impossibility, and that’s assuming you have the ten powerful witches you need to recite it while joined in a power circle.”
“Ten!” I shouted.
Ten witches were hard enough to find, but ten powerful witches? We had two in this room—I was still riding with training wheels—and Willemena, if we could get her. Three. We had fucking three.
“Let’s just hope it’s not a fog demon,” Cass said, shuffling his feet nervously.
The way my shit show of a life had been going lately, I’d bet my life it was exactly that.
“I’ll call Detective Swanson and give him a heads-up,” I grumbled, and shuffled to the back room that Brock and I shared.
The king-sized bed looked so comfortable. It was calling my name for a long nap. When I reached the side table to grab my cell, I noticed the unopened engagement ring box. I really wanted to open it because I knew it would be perfect, something amazing that Brock picked out with me in mind … but now wasn’t the time. We had a crisis on our hands, and I wanted that moment to be special.
Bypassing the ring box, I put in a call to the detective that Molly, Cass, and I had worked with on the siren case—before she escaped—and waited for him to pick up.
“This is Detective Swanson…”
“Hey, it’s Evie Black. The bounty hunter.”
He sighed. “Tell me the sirens aren’t back.”
I chuckled nervously. “They’re not.” The sirens had slipped out of police custody and I was the last one to see them. I’m sure Swanson didn’t think too kindly of me.
“This is a different … possible threat,” I hedged.
I could sense him clenching over the phone. “I’m listening.” Wariness dripped from each word.
“Well, my bounty hunting partner is from the underworld, and so his knowledge of underworld creatures is a bit better than mine, even though he was raised in Philadelphia, so it’s really children’s stories that he—”
“Ms. Black, I’ve got three open investigations. Can you speed this up?”
I took in a deep breath. “It’s quite possible that a greenish black fog demon is rolling into town and it could make people a bit more murderous than usual.”
Silence.
“Fog demon?” he finally asked, not bothering to hide his incredulity.
“Yeah, so … it looks like fog but it’s really … bad. It influences people. Just let me know if you get a bunch of calls tonight. Like way more than normal.”
He sighed. “And then you can come take care of it?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s a bit complicated.”
“Well, work on it! We need a plan in place if this fog is what you say it is.”
He was right, absolutely right, and I knew what I needed to do to have a contingency in place if a fog demon decided to ravage the town. The very thought of the destruction it might cause made me sick with nervousness.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m on it. I’ve got a plan. Call me if things get crazy tonight.”
“Okay. Thanks for giving me a heads-up, Black.” And he hung up.
When I looked up, Brock was in the doorway. “How’d it go? Why do you look terrified?”
Shaking my head, I rose from the very soft, very tempting bed. “It went fine, but I need to contact the Black family witches.” I sighed heavily in resignation.
Brock’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “The ones who made fun of you for not having magic and had issues with your grandma?”
“The very ones.” Those motherfuckers were the only witches in a one-hundred mile radius that could help us. The Black witch clan was a powerful bunch, and I wouldn’t trust anyone else to help with such a dire situation as a fog demon, if that’s what we were dealing with. I might not like them, but I wouldn’t deny the Blacks knew what they were doing.
“Where do they live?” Brock asked.
I sighed as the reality of having to call on them sank in. “Cottage Grove. Just outside town.”
Brock crossed the room quickly and pulled me into his arms. “Want me to go with Tianna and Cass? You don’t even need to be involved.”
I barked out in laughter. “An alpha werewolf, a demon imp, and a fae-witch hybrid? Johnny Black will shoot you on sight. No, it has to be me.”
A frown pulled at his lips. His chest puffed out as he went further into protective alpha mode. “So they’re dangerous? I’ll bring the pack.”
I waved him off. “Not to me. Last time I saw Johnny he was trying to give me a wedgie while repeatedly calling me a dud.”
Brock held me tighter. “I should kick his ass.”
Laughter peeled out of me. “Johnny Black is one of the most powerful warlocks in America. Gran told me to steer clear of him in a phone conversation right before she died. Said she suspected he was doing dark magic for money. Revenge spells, that sort of thing.”
Brock whistled through his teeth. “And you want to ask for their help?”
I shrugged. “If the town goes to shit overnight, we’ll have no choice.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Letting me go, he went into the closet and started to rummage around in a box. Finally he came out with a big, black, studded … dog collar?
Brock chuckled. “It’s a hazing thing we do to new wolves, but it might also let me go in as your pet.”
I actually choked on my spit a little as I snort-gasped. “You think Johnny Black won’t know you’re a werewolf?”
He waved me away. “Of course he will, but I’m not letting you go see them alone, and if you say I’m your pet dog, then he won’t have to puff his chest out and go all alpha.”
I grinned. Brock would wear a dog collar just to protect me? “Alright. Worth a shot.”
I mostly just wanted to see this.
Brock nodded. “Let’s do this. I have a feeling that wasn’t any normal fog.”
I had the same feeling. I also felt I wasn’t going to get a nap in today, and that pissed me right off.
5 Fucking family
Brock was in wolf form, black leather collar in place, as he sat in the passenger side of his truck. He was no longer letting me drive my Jeep, saying it was too unsafe for me and the baby. It had taken me the better part of an hour to convince Cass I didn’t need him to go with me. If Johnny or mean old Aunt Bertie saw him, they’d shoot first and ask questions later.
The Blacks cared about three things: money, magic, and power. If you were a threat in any way, they wouldn’t hesitate to incapacitate you. The Blacks’ ranch was a sprawling fifty acres with half a dozen cabins dotted on it, much like Brock’s land. There must have been a dozen of my aunts, uncles, and cousins living there by now. I just needed seven. Seven witches or warlocks to help with our ten-pointed pentacle spell in the event we had a fog demon wreaking havoc on our town.
I hated that I had to do this. Groveling to Johnny Black was up there on my list of things I never, ever, wanted to do. He’d been a mean asshole growing up, and I was so thankful Gran chose to live away from them and claim her own space. I couldn’t imagine living a cabin away from those pricks.
Before I knew it, I was driving down the dirt road that led to the Black land. My gran didn’t tell me the whole story, but there had been a big falling out when she married my grandpa and decided to move onto her own propert
y and leave their family compound. Something about her taking her power with her when she left. It didn’t sit well with the Blacks, and they never forgave her for it. Then, when I was born without magic, it just added fuel to the fire. But I hadn’t actually been born without magic—something I needed to keep reminding myself.
We reached the end of the dirt road to discover it blocked by a huge, black, wrought-iron gate. Pulling Brock’s truck up to the speaker box, I pushed the button.
“Who’s there?” a deep male voice asked right away. Johnny?
“Evie Black.” I tried to keep my voice calm and steady, but it shook a bit.
There was silence for what seemed like a full minute before a wave of power washed over me and the gates opened.
‘What the hell was that?’ Brock asked from the passenger seat.
I had no idea. A spell that revealed a person’s intentions? A spell to break all illusions in case I was someone pretending to be Evie Black? I didn’t know enough about magic yet to know what it was.
‘Something powerful,’ was all I said in the end as I drove the truck right up to Aunt Bertie’s cabin and parked. I had no idea if this was where Johnny lived now, but it was the biggest and grandest home of them all, so I was hedging my bets that he’d taken it over. Most witches, like Willemena, were solitary. Dealing with a coven like the Blacks was all the more nerve-racking because their power was amplified by each of its members.
Stepping out of the truck, I opened the door so Brock could hop down. He was a huge gray wolf and there was no way in hell Johnny was going to believe he was my pet dog, but it was worth a try.
Walking to the giant double doors, I was about to knock when they opened a few inches from my raised fist. The smell of freshly burned sage spilled out and Johnny’s green-eyed gaze fell on me, and then on Brock.
He spoke in firm tones: “You are welcome, but the werewolf has to stay in the car.”
I put a hand on my hip. “This big ol' dog? He’s harmless. Oh, and it’s good to see you too. Is Aunt Bertie around?” I asked casually, eyeing the foyer behind him.
He raised one eyebrow, scanning me and stopping on my belly.
“You’re pregnant with a werewolf’s baby? Is it his?” He pointed to Brock.
Leave it to Johnny to figure shit out right away.
“Yeah, it is.” I changed the subject: “Did you know my gran died?” There was no way Brock was letting me in the house alone.
Johnny’s thick black eyebrows knotted. “Yeah, I did. Sorry to hear it.”
“Well, are you letting her in or not? These cookies won’t ice themselves!” Aunt Bertie hollered from the kitchen.
Johnny rolled his eyes. “I wish she would just die already,” he mumbled to me.
“I heard that! Remember, I know where you sleep,” Aunt Bertie called out, and my lips pulled into a grin.
Oh, the dysfunctional Black family. How I sort of missed them.
“Come on in. I guess the wolf can too, if he’s muzzled.” Johnny’s lips twitched a little at the word muzzle.
‘Motherfucker,’ Brock spoke into my mind.
‘Wanna wait in the car?’ I asked him.
‘Not a chance in hell.’ Brock stepped slowly toward Johnny, lowering his head a little. Reaching out, Johnny placed a hand on Brock’s muzzle, and green magical bands wrapped around his snout, binding it closed.
I winced. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Only my ego.’
Bless this man. He loved me more than anyone I’d ever met. We both stepped into the house just as my phone beeped with a text. I checked it quickly, worried it was the detective or Cass.
Detective Swanson: ‘Calls have quadrupled. Multiple murder suicides. Meet me at the station in an hour.’
Fuck!
I relayed the information to Brock mentally as I tried to school my features. If the Blacks knew I was desperate, they would use that against me.
“Evie Black! My, my…” Aunt Bertie called as I walked into the kitchen. “Grab a piping bag if you’re staying. You’ll pay your dues.”
Didn’t I always… “Yes, auntie.” I tried not to growl.
Johnny grinned at how quickly I caved into her.
Fucker.
“She’s pregnant with the werewolf’s baby. Probably needs an abortion spell,” Johnny told his mother.
My eyes bugged, and a low growl rumbled in Brock’s throat. Reaching out, I grabbed the skin on the back of Brock’s head and yanked because I knew he was two seconds from jumping.
“Actually, we’re very happy for the baby’s arrival,” I corrected Johnny with a warning tone.
Johnny shrugged, but Bertie had yet to look at me, working away at icing her cookies. “So, you don’t invite me to my sister’s funeral and now you’ve surely only come because you want something. If not an abortion, then what?”
I released Brock’s head and started to pipe cookies, because this mad woman would chastise me if I didn’t multitask. “Well…” Fuck these assholes, it was time to brag about what I was and how much magic I actually carried.
“I’m actually not a dud.” I dropped the icing onto the cluttered counter and crossed my arms. “I’m a kitsune and a witch, and I guard the gate to the underworld, which is on my gran’s land. Earlier today, a fog demon broke through, and now it’s affecting the town. I have three witches already, but I need seven more for a ten-point pentacle spell to vanquish the fog.”
Silence.
Bertie had stopped icing, and even Johnny leaned forward from where he was perched against the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Kitsune…” Bertie was staring off into space. “But you’ve also got the Black family magic?” She grinned.
I nodded. “And my mother’s grimoire. I’m not that great yet, but yeah.”
Bertie opened her arms and moved toward me. “I knew your granny’s magic didn’t die with your mother.” She pulled me into a hug as my brow creased in confusion.
Being helpful for once, Johnny explained: “When Aunt Belinda left, she pulled her magic from the Black Coven. It was still there, but weak. When your mom died, it got weaker, then a couple of months ago it nearly completely died out with Belinda’s passing. But only for a few days, because then it flared to life stronger than ever.”
My jaw popped open. It was only a couple days after Gran’s funeral that I got my katana and my witch magic awoke. That’s what they felt flare to life. Me. I got Gran's magic.
Bertie pulled back and rubbed my belly. “And this little baby Black is going to be powerful too. I can feel it.”
It took everything in me not to push her away. The Blacks were magic elitists, always had been. Now that they knew I had power, they would be after some of it for sure.
“So you’ll help me?” Damn, I didn’t even have to offer to pay them or anything.
Bertie pulled back and nodded happily, almost looking like an innocent old lady for a few seconds. “Of course dear … under a few conditions.”
Brock growled low in his throat, and Johnny took a step closer to my alpha. I stepped away from my aunt and closer to Brock. “What kind of conditions?”
I should have known. Money, power, and magic. That’s all the Blacks cared about.
“All I ask is that you and the baby come around more. Once a week to play with your cousins.” Her voice was sweet, but I knew there was an underlying motive. There was always an underlying motive with the Blacks.
Johnny nodded. “I have a wife and two kids now. My youngest is three months old.”
‘This is a trap. What’s the bigger motive?’ Brock rumbled.
“Why?” I asked aloud, because I definitely agreed with Brock. “You don’t want to get to know me and my baby. Does our being on the land make you more powerful or something?”
That had to be it.
Bertie bared her teeth. “Oh, you always were a clever little girl. Yes. Something like that. You being here makes the clan more powerful. We have a business to run, you
know.”
I nodded. “I do know. I’m a bounty hunter now and I’ve heard all about your ‘business.’” I did air quotes for good measure, and Aunt Bertie narrowed her steely eyes. “Don’t you sass me, child. Do you want our help or not?”
Dammit, I did. The town was on a murderous rampage, and I needed the Blacks to stop it. “I do, but I won’t ever bring my baby around you. Ever. If you can settle for me coming by for an hour every two weeks, then you have a deal.”
Bertie scowled, crossing her arms, but Johnny stepped forward and extended his hand. “Deal. Good to have you back, cuz.” He winked.
‘These guys are a real piece of work,’ Brock commented.
‘You have no idea.’ Regardless, I shook on it. Last I’d heard, Johnny was the coven leader now that Auntie Bertie had stepped down, and so his word was law with the clan even if his mother didn’t agree.
“Stay for a cookie?” Auntie Bertie asked.
“Nope. Round up the coven and meet me at the Eugene County Sheriff’s office. We’ve got a fog demon to vanquish.” I turned on my heel and stalked toward the door.
Some family members were impossible to get rid of…
6 Foggy apocalypse
After our tumultuous history, I’d imagined I’d encounter resistance in getting enough of the Black Clan members to agree to join my cause, but even before Brock and I left Cottage Grove, Johnny had chosen the seven of them who would help us defeat the fog demon. Apparently Gran hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said Johnny was a head honcho warlock now. Even Aunt Bertie hopped to when Johnny told her to, though she did plenty of eye narrowing and flinging her hands about. She even threatened to shrivel up his manhood if he continued ordering her around.
Brock shifted from werewolf to human as soon as I drove us down the long drive away from Johnny and Aunt Bertie’s home, passing the many cottages that spread across the Black family land. He shook his head, rubbing his hands across his face. “I couldn’t stand that binding for another second longer. It was driving me crazy.”
“It didn’t hurt though, right?” I glanced his way. “Holy shit, Brock, you’re naked.”