Hexed Hit: An Urban Fantasy Mystery (The Lyon Fox Mysteries Book 4)

by Ann Denton

  Petey leans in and blasts Freddie with compulsion again. “We aren’t here to hurt you, Fred. We’re here to help you. We just need to know so we can do our job. We want to find out who hurt your mom.”

  Freddie looks a little dazed as he whispers, “She was a baboon-bird.”

  Immediately, I’m assaulted with images from The Wizard of Oz. It seems fitting that the drug-dealing granny was a flying monkey.

  Flowers nods and claps Freddie on the shoulder. “I’ll be in touch. I’m sure more questions will come up. But, thanks.”

  Freddie trots after us. “You aren’t gonna like, release that info, right? About her shifter animal?”

  Flowers turns. “I wasn’t planning on it. Why?”

  Freddie looks down at his shoes. “Because, I kinda told everyone here I’m just a sucky wizard.”

  Looks like the phoenix wasn’t the only one who lied on his job application. Sad thing is, if I lived across the Veil, I’d probably lie about my heritage if I could, too. Over there, it’s better to be a kidnapped human baby raised by fairies than a fairy with no powers. Of course, the blue stone in my chin is a dead giveaway. I never could have lied like Freddie. I feel bad for the baboon-bird, emo dude.

  It’s no fun being a freak.

  Chapter 11

  After Tall Tales, I’m finally done. I’m too tired and lazy to go back to the office and pick up all my spare clothes and that pile of books. I’m too tired to go to the dry cleaners and get my uniform back. I just want to eat and crash.

  I text Luke, with little hope that I’ll see him because the sun’s up now. That’s probably a good thing though, because if I did see him, there’s little hope that I would actually sleep.

  Then I call JR, who sounds like she’s in the middle of dinner.

  “Hello?” she mumbles with her mouth full.

  “Ugh. I’m starving. What are you eating?” I ask.

  “Come over. Danny made stir fry.”

  “Vegetables?” Suddenly, my appetite goes way down.

  “We have sweet and sour sauce,” she replies.

  “I’m there.” I hang up and get a Broomer over to her place.

  JR lives in one of those tiny converted garage apartments in a semi-decent part of town. They call her place a studio but it’s really like the cupboard under the stairs. Tiny. A bathroom is stuck over in one corner with nothing but a curtain rod and some of JR’s plant babies to give you privacy. There’s a tiny countertop with a two-burner stovetop and a microwave that doesn’t work. I’m always on JR to tell her landlord to get that fixed, but she doesn’t want him coming into her place. Her landlord is a ghost. And since she’s a nymph, her place is a tangle of vines and flowering plants. He’d slime the whole thing with ectoplasm.

  Danny trots over on his satyr hooves and hands me a bowl of stir fry and the squirt bottle of sweet and sour. I sit down on a stump. JR waves a hand and a frond with giant leaves leans over and becomes my backrest. She and Danny snuggle up on a fallen log she calls her love seat. She starts stroking the goat horns that pop up out of his curly black hair. He eats while JR peppers me with questions about Luke.

  “Brothers and sisters?”

  “None that made the change.”

  “Hobbies?”

  “Reading and a weird one—don’t laugh—element collection.”

  Both Danny and JR give me odd looks.

  “What the heck is that?” Danny asks.

  “It’s a science thing. It’s literally going around town trying to collect the periodic elements from everynight items.”

  “That’s a thing?”

  “Apparently, this is the International Year of the Periodic Table,” I recite.

  “Says who?”

  “I dunno. People. He said something about a one-hundred-fifty-year anniversary or something,” I shrug as I squirt a ton of sweet and sour sauce onto my fork to drown out the taste of broccoli. I take a bite. Tolerable. The sauce makes it just tolerable.

  “Okay. Still lost. What the hell is element collection? How is that a hobby?” JR stops stroking Danny’s horns and he gives a little bleat.

  I finish my bite and explain, “So, he has a list of things he’s looking for that contain different elements. He’s doing two tables. A supernatural version and a human version. And he goes around town looking for things on his lists. He collects them and puts them into a shadow box in the shape of the periodic table.”

  JR smiles and rolls her eyes. “That’s so nerdy.”

  Danny disagrees, “Nah, that’s awesome. What’s the weirdest thing he’s got?”

  “OMG. Sulfur from a dragon’s breath in a vial. Calcium off a mermaid’s scales. Neon from a will-o’-the-wisp. A kinda cool human one was a computer chip for gold. But a lot of the others … there was something about cobalt and lithium ion batteries before I distracted him.”

  “Wow. Sounds like we will not be going on a double date any time soon,” JR laughs, “I might fall asleep. Does he lose hot points for this or gain smart points?”

  I flick a pea pod from my bowl at her. “Not nice.”

  “I just don’t know a guy that hot that’s into that stuff. How does that happen?”

  Danny puts his hand around her, “Babe, not cool. Maybe he wasn’t hot as a kid.”

  JR gives him a look. “He’s like a supermodel. No way that’s possible.”

  Danny just rolls his eyes. “I heard if you hammer U.S. coins, they have, like, different metals underneath. We could total get hammered together! Get it!” He laughs at his own joke.

  JR looks at me. “Actually, the boys might get along. As long as Luke doesn’t have any supernatural soccer team preferences.”

  I shake my head. “It hasn’t come up.”

  “Just check. I don’t want a repeat of the Fernando disaster.” (Fernando was a mistake who lasted exactly three dates during a sad desperate time in my life. The nail in his coffin was that he liked the Portland Pixies. Danny vetoed him. Which was fine. Because he slurped his own saliva. He might have been a blue whale shifter but come on. You gotta control that shizzle in human form, dude.)

  “Yeah, that guy was a tool,” Danny’s finished his own food and starts in on JR’s.

  They start listing Fernando’s faults from the singular night they met him.

  I’m starting to go into a food coma and seriously debating curling up on JR’s floor.

  But then I get a text. From Luke.

  I wanna see you.

  And just like that, I’m suddenly awake.

  I thank JR and Danny for dinner and head on out.

  I call Luke. “Hey, stranger,” I smile into the phone, squinting in the light of the rising sun.

  “Hey,” I can hear his grin through the phone.

  The very sound of his voice sends me into a half-skip down the sidewalk. I’m so in ‘like’ with him.

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  “At the hospital.”

  “WHAT!?” I start running, which is stupid. The hospital is like, miles from JR’s. There’s no way I’ll get there by running. But it’s just instinct.

  “I started thinking about what you said last morning,” Luke replies. “And if you could be part demon … you could be part vamp, you know. Our magic comes from demons. All the dark hearts do, to some degree.”

  “OMFG!” I stop and hold my phone away from my face to stare at it. Then I hang up and dial Luke on Faceshrine. (Yeah, it’s a part-internet-troll knocking off that other product, but really, the troll name is more accurate. How much time do you spend looking at the person you’re talking to versus yourself? Mirror mirror, anyone?)

  Luke picks up and I can see he’s in the hospital waiting room, looking fine. No visible burn marks or stakes. I let him have it. “I thought you were hurt!”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Not hurt. I had dinner with a friend in the dermatology department and you came up.” My senses go on high alert. Dinner with a friend? What? I mean, we haven’t had the exclusivity talk but—my
internal rant is distracted, then silenced, then drooling after Luke says “See, I’m fine,” and does a full body scan of himself in a shirt that would make any 1980s romance novel pirate proud. Gah! Why does he have to be so hot?

  Luke sees my vapid, pec-obsessed expression when he puts the phone back to his face. He smiles, a bit smug, and says, “George thought to remind me that dark hearts have a natural affinity for one another. So, you might be wrong about that test. It might be accurate.”

  “I’m still stuck on the name George. I didn’t hear anything else you said.”

  “What. Why?”

  “I’m trying to decide whether George is some progressive girl-name or a century-old vamp dude.”

  Luke smiles and … dimples. This might be the first time I’ve totally paid more attention to the face of the other person on the phone during a Faceshrine talk instead of secretly checking my teeth when they aren’t looking.

  “George is a … wait for it … wonderful frog shifter.”

  Jerk! He totally had me thinking he was gonna say woman. “You are a meanie-pooh-head and I’m hanging up—” I reach for the red button.

  “Wait!” Luke laughs. “He’s a guy. George is a guy. I’m only seeing you, Ly.”

  I humph. But a smile creeps onto my face despite my best efforts. Damn new relationship highs when I wanna pout and punish Luke for teasing me. I can’t! I blow a raspberry at him instead.

  “This is the part where you tell me, you’re only seeing me,” he prompts.

  “I’m only seeing you.”

  “Good. Now come to the hospital and take your silly test. I can’t wait to see if you’re part vamp.” Luke hangs up before I can argue.

  I sigh but dial a Broomer. Luke’s right. I’ve put this off long enough.

  I meet Luke in the lobby and lead him by memory over to Doctor Eduardo’s floor. To my surprise, the part-troll doctor is on duty.

  Dr. Eduardo recognizes me immediately and calls out, “Ms. Fox, I didn’t expect to see you. One minute.”

  We stand near the nurse’s station and watch a nurse carry a pixie caught in a net. The pixie pouts in the net as the nurse says, “Just one shot and then we’ll give you some cotton candy.” They round the corner before I can hear the pixie’s response. But the idea of cotton candy makes my mouth water.

  Eduardo finishes up typing something on the computer and then walks our way.

  Luke slips his hand into mine and gives me a reassuring squeeze. (See, isn’t he perfect?)

  Eduardo runs a hand through his green hair and says, “You ready to take that test?”

  “I want cotton candy as a reward.”

  “That’s for children.”

  I jut out my lip.

  Luke asks, “How about for those with a childish attitude?”

  Eduardo laughs and leads me over to a chair so I can sit while he stabs me.

  We get it over with and I get the world’s smallest sugar-substitute disappointment of a cotton candy I’ve ever seen. It tastes like the grape children’s aspirin chewables my dad used to give me. Nose scrunch. I hold the foul fluff in my hand until we’re out of Eduardo’s line of sight; then I dump it.

  “I can’t believe they ruined cotton candy. How is that even possible? Doctors are the worst.”

  Luke laughs and grabs my hand, pulling me to the elevator. “Want a distraction? Want to meet George?”

  “Sure,” I reply. “Why were you visiting him anyway? Just catching up?”

  Luke shakes his head. “I was getting some sun protection spells. You seem to work so late it seemed like the prudent option.”

  I so wish the elevator was empty right now. I’d jump Luke. But nope. Next to us is a nurse pushing a wheelchair with zombie holding his own severed arm.

  So, instead of kissing Luke, I casually ask, “What kind of sun spells did he give you?”

  “Couple basic umbrella spells, mirror spells for angled light, some pink cream that’s supposed to be a backup layer. All I can say about that one is that I hope it rubs in. I better not turn pink.”

  “Aww, I’ll still date you. Just maybe not in public.”

  Luke narrows his eyes and yanks on my hand.

  “But seriously,” I say, as the nurse and her zombie patient exit, “dating me seems too expensive.”

  He shrugs, “Worth it.”

  Before I can respond, the door opens onto the dermatology floor and Luke pulls me out of the elevator.

  A bug-eyed man with age spots on his face comes forward with a smile. His hand is slightly damp as he shakes mine.

  “So, you’re Lyon. Great to meet you.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you. Thanks for helping Luke out.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “He said you gave him some pink cream. I’m kinda hoping it will dye him like an Easter egg,” I toss out.

  George laughs. “There’s a price for some things, I’m afraid. What I gave him is a blood sweat extract. From hippo shifters. It’s how they protect themselves in hippo form. It’s initially clear but if it does end up exposed to sunlight, then yes, he will turn a glorious shade of pink.”

  My eyes light up. “Can I get like ten tubes? There are so many people at work I could use that on.” (I briefly imagine switching out all the shampoo in the guy’s locker rooms with this stuff. How amazing would it be for all the guys in the office to be walking around with neon pink skin? #newlifegoal)

  George grins. “It’s prescription only, I’m afraid. Hard to come by.”

  A nurse comes over to George and says, “Sorry to interrupt, but they’re bringing in a sunstroke and burn victim. Found in a field. Guess he’s been there a couple days. Disoriented.”

  “How bad are the burns?”

  “Seventy percent.”

  George sucks in a breath and gives us a look, “Sorry. I better head down to the ER.”

  We wave as he walks off with the nurse. But George asks one last question before he gets out of earshot, “What kind of victim?”

  “Hippo shifter,” the nurse answers.

  My stomach implodes. The blood drains from my face.

  Luke takes a look at me, “Are you alright?”

  I shake my head. “I need to call my boss. I just realized something about the case we’re working.”

  I grab my cell and dial Flowers, walking over to an empty exam room. I step inside as Flowers answers.

  “Lyon?” he asks.

  “Is that Lyon? Tell her I’ve been waiting for her to visit and give me all the gushy details about Luke!” Sarah’s voice pipes up in the background.

  “You’re at Sarah’s?” I’m temporarily distracted.

  “Yes. Business discussions. This better be an emergency.”

  I chew my lip, “I think I might have hurt someone.”

  “What?” I hear a chair scrape against the floor as Flowers stands. “Just a minute,” he tells me. Then he covers the phone with his hand and tells Sarah something, I can’t tell what. But I hear him open a door, and then the background is quiet. “Lyon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Tell me,” he commands.

  I take a deep breath, “Um, you know that hippo shifter I lost?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, they’re bringing in a hippo shifter to the hospital.”

  “So?”

  “He was found in a field, wandering around. He has severe burns and sunstroke.”

  “You’re at the hospital?”

  I nod. Then I realize he can’t see me.

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I nod again.

  Flowers must sense the sick guilt churning in my stomach because he doesn’t hang up like I expect. He says, “Lyon, you are allowed to use thorce …” I hear him suppressing a growl, “You can use spells in lithe-threatening situations.” The phone drops and I imagine his hand shifted to a tiger paw in his frustration. His voice comes from a distance as he says, “A drug-addled hippo was charging you.
You used the minimal magic necessary to protect all o- us and everyone else in that building.”

  I nod, breathing out. The bile rising in my throat starts to recede. I didn’t actually intentionally hurt the hippo. I kept him from hurting other people.

  “You did the right thing,” Flowers reiterates.

  “Right. I did the right thing,” I repeat, hoping that saying it aloud will help ease the fear in my stomach. I might have done the right thing, but shit—I hope this shifter isn’t hurt. I hope this isn’t serious. I should have checked on him. I should have—

  Flowers interrupts my thoughts. “Go see where they’re putting him. Then text me. I’ll meet you there.” Flowers hangs up.

  I walk out of the exam room and over to Luke. “I’m sorry. This case is open, and my boss wants to—”

  Luke leans down and gives me a kiss. “Go do what you do best, Ms. Detective.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Peppy Perk Potion. He hands it to me.

  “I’m not technically a detective.” I unwrap the caffeinated, spelled tablet gratefully.

  He grins at me, “You’re on your way. Go solve the case. Later, you can come over and solve the mystery of the rock-hard relic.”

  I give a small grin and play along. I bat my eyes and ask, “Will I need my magnifying glass for this relic?”

  He narrows his eyes and swats my ass. “Get outta here before I remind you how large that relic is.”

  I pop the tablet into my mouth, glance at the clock on the wall, and grin. “I might have time for that.”

  He groans, “Don’t tempt me.”

  I shrug a shoulder, “If I’m part demon, isn’t that my job?”

  Chapter 12

  I talk with the nurses in the ER, who refuse to give me any information until Flowers shows up and flashes his pretty badge and smile at them.

  Then they drop the deets.

  Apparently, the hippo’s name is Frank Fortinbraugh. I manage not to slap my palm against my forehead, but just barely. I stare at the ceiling for a second and ask, “Why?” as the nurses stare at me. They have no idea how much the letter “f” is starting to haunt me.