by T S Paul
I started to giggle. “Mongo’s a big goofball. The two of them might get captured on purpose just to see what happens.”
“Maybe. You’ve been out of the picture, but his investigative skills got a real boost. I’m actually considering it, for real. It would be on a temporary basis, regardless. His parents are already in Otherworld. Mack conned the Thalarrs into opening up a BBQ shack on the main square across from the Hallway portal. Owl claimed it was help, but we’re sure there are free samples involved. Anna is staying close to home in Russia for now. America is entirely too dangerous for vampires. Marcella has the rest for you. Keeping track of your family and the town is enough to melt your brain as it is. How were the kitsune?” Cat asked me.
“Assholes. They were in possession of an ancient doorway leading to the lair of a Goddess. According to their legends, it was from whence they came. My father was part of the royal family and possessed my Guardian powers. They had a prophecy saying that the scions could open the door. The priest interpreted that to mean the blood of the scions could open the door,” I started to explain.
Cat’s eyes got wide. “Oh no!”
“Oh yes. Human sacrifice. Kitsune sacrifice, but same thing. They wanted him for his power and his blood at the same time. It was why they took me as well. I used to have several uncles and cousins on that side of the family. Used to. Dad’s twin brother took his place on the altar, willingly took his place.” Reaching up I wiped a tear away. Even thinking about it made me sad.
“So what are your plans when we get home?” Cat asked me.
“Week long bubble bath. I feel like I’ll never get clean after this mess. I never got to wind down after the dragon battle. Maybe I’ll get some rest now, catch up on my mail and stuff. I’m sure grandmother has lessons or something for me,” I explained. I really did just want to chill for a while.
Laying my head back, I tried to take a nap. It was a seven hour flight, and we still had Canadian airspace to deal with.
“Are you awake yet?” My grandmother asked, rubbing my arms.
“No. I wanted to sleep for a week,” I replied.
“You don’t always get what you want, dear heart. We need to discuss your plans for the near future,” she started. Smiling, she gave me a hug. “When you vanished and Fergus freaked out I thought… I was worried. We knew you were out there, just not where. I swear to you, Agatha. I never thought of Ken's family. They were so off our radar we ignored them. It’s my fault.”
I shook my head. “No. We were in the middle of a war. Shit happens.”
She smiled at me. “That’s the first time you’ve ever cursed in my presence. Don’t do it again. Minerva still has those big blocks of lye soap in her kitchen.”
I shuddered. I think I might have been eight or nine when I repeated a dirty word in front of Minerva, not thinking. Lye soap has a sharp acrid taste that you just can’t get out of your mouth for days. No repeating that experience for me. Just the thought of it made me want to gag.
Grandmother laughed. “Your expression. Just wait until I tell her about this. The future. Because of this mess with the government and all the new laws, we’ve made some changes in the coven. There’s a lot more of us now. The auxiliary groups are all inside the valley and many of the townspeople joined us. I need you to take a closer role in things this year.” Holding up her hand, she shut down my comment. “The last time we plotted and planned for this we never thought it would get this bad. You remember what the seers said. With the gate open all the time and traffic flowing through it, one of us needs to coordinate better. I’ve enlisted your mother to help as well.”
“Is she ready for that?” When I’d last seen her, Teegan was coming back from the fog she’d been in for years but was still touchy about things.
“Some. Now that we’ve found you her worries will pass. She’s been helping with the younger witches. What I want you to do is run the coven for me. We need new blood and a new High Priestess. It’s past time to get your feet wet and dive right in,” Grandmother explained.
“You need me to do what?” I asked in complete shock. The coven and all its parts were the domain of the Queen. A new HP meant a change in leadership and responsibilities. Was I ready to be Queen?
I didn’t know what all of the family business entailed and I didn’t want to know. But it seemed to pay well. The clan of death had a literal fleet of private jets and secret airfields. We didn’t want to open the shield over the valley because of the government blockade, but landing in Canada was doable. Robert and some of his Weres picked us up.
Agatha will return in book eleven, Ancient Spirits.
Author Notes
What a crazy year it’s been so far this year.
We’ve all dealt with the issue of pandemic and loss. Thousands upon thousands of innocent people have lost their lives to a virus they didn’t understand. Many of us got sick as well. Me included. Was it Covid 19? No idea. Winter, cold and flu season, plus spring pollen usually means I’m sick regardless. Being sick slowed me down just a bit, but I recovered. Staying home all the time flipped my schedule, making me stay up way too late and get up way too early on a daily basis. Life of an author and all that.
This book was hard. Hard to write and to plot. Agatha and her group have done so much in the past books and stories. Trying not to kill her off was difficult, especially with two more books in the series planned! But what happened needed to happen.
Much like in Star Wars (Empire) this was one of those in-between sort of books. Clear off the old plot so the new one can take over. Will Agatha run the coven and be the Queen? How about what Khonsu had planned for her? And then there are the Feds, and Jack Dalton seems to be working for the bad guys! Our heroes have all split up, going their separate ways. Cat and Chuck (and Mongo too) have plans. I do have a book series kicking around inside my head based on that idea of hers. Anastasia is planning to take a trip. Think Vampire short stories.
Of Otherworld, I only have Emesh and his story in the works. So far. But there are some expansions of characters including the Valkyrie series and some aquatic creatures I’ve mentioned. Federal Witch is still broad.
Good news for the short stories and the Jack books is that they are all in the Kindle Unlimited program now. That bit is new for 2020.
In the coming months I have a lot of things planned. More Space Chef, an Atlantis/Steampunk adventure, some high fantasy with elves and orcs, and more Athena Lee books. Yes, I said Athena Lee. It’s time to return to her world and find out what she’s been up to in the years I’ve been away. Expect two new offerings for her. And there will be more. My wife is now writing romance. Check her out as Heather Paul. We have a brand new concept urban fantasy series in the planning stage. Eight books in all, five of the covers are done.
My tiny publishing company has grown up too. Besides my late Aunt Jeans mystery novel, we have an erotica author, and a guy I met at comic con writing twisted short stories. Expect a serial series and some men’s adventure from Jack Taylor this year.
You can follow me on Facebook for more details.
Do you want to know more about Bigfoot?
Check out Jack Dalton, Monster Hunter Book Eight
My name is Jack and I’m a monster hunter.
Imagine walking into a strange office and confronting people you don’t know. They approach you, confused that they haven’t seen you before and instead of identifying yourself you ask them a question. “Do you believe in Bigfoot?”
Naturally, the reaction I got was a crazy one.
“What? Who the hell are you?” the San Francisco California FBI Agents yelled.
I stuck out my left hand. “Special Agent in Charge, Jack Dalton. Nice to meet you.” In my right hand were the credentials to prove it.
The trio of Agents in front of me only stared. I will admit that I didn’t look like what most in the FBI would consider a proper Agent. My clothing looked more like I was in the military than the Bureau. Khaki colored pants and shirt was
my norm on most cases that I handled. Standard FBI suits and shoes just didn’t work for chasing paranormals through the woods. The Director was very firm about the dress code for all offices, but I wasn’t directly under him. Even though I reported to his assistant, Anastasia, Mr. Hoover had to make monthly reports to a small sub-committee of Congress and the president himself about my activities. As a result, I figured a few rules could be broken in the name of comfort and ease of motion.
“I’m here for your files on the entity known as Bigfoot? The main office in Washington was supposed to have called ahead a week or so ago for me?” I asked.
Two of the men in front of me snorted and the third laughed, “You’re on the wrong floor for that. You want the Agents for Humboldt County. Get back on the elevator and go up to the fourth floor. Just follow the signs.”
“Uh, thanks. You have quite the office here,” I replied.
The snorting men joined the other in laughter as they brushed past me, continuing down the hallway. Only the speaker remained. Shaking his head, he smirked at me. “It’s all a big hoax anyway. Ape men in America? This isn’t Africa, after all.”
“We have Werewolves and Vampires already, why not Bigfeet? There have to be paranormals that we have yet to meet,” I answered.
“If you say so. Here in California we have enough trouble with emerging crime and Demons. There were far too many of those things that slipped past the boys down in Conception. Good luck with your ‘Foot’ hunt,” the Agent stated as he walked past me.
For just a moment I could relate to what he’d said. I wasn’t a part of the law enforcement world in this part of the country. Only the internal gazette that all SAIC Agents received even mentioned events here. Organized crime was the big bad in this office. Unlike the East Coast, it wasn’t the Mafia. Here in California, it was Yakuza and Chinese triads. They controlled the ports and who or what traveled through them.
Finding the elevators, I went up to the proper floor. The building was huge. In my limited experience, it seemed that only the office in Washington, DC was bigger. The San Francisco office was responsible for more than seventy-three thousand square miles of territory, including more than a dozen federal parks and facilities. There were more than a thousand people reporting in to this building alone.
One such person was the elevator operator. Unlike Portland, there were still operators in the elevators and they were armed. It was a unique merger of security and maintenance that made a certain amount of sense. Why pay two people to do a single job?
“Floor?” the man asked.
“Fourth please,” I responded.
Moving his handle forward, the elevator man applied pressure and the car moved upwards. “You’re new.”
I glanced at him for a moment. “Jack Dalton, Magical Division. I’m just passing through.”
“Interesting. Too bad you’re not cleaning house, then. This place could use it,” he replied.
Dropping my head forward, I sighed. My reputation had preceded me. “Portland was an accident. If they had just cooperated as instructed, that mess might never have happened.”
The elevator man shook his head. “Nope. In my position, I see it all. Hoover up in his kingdom has created tiny little fiefs. None of these folks want to give up the power that he’s given them. Not even a little bit. You’re an outsider to them, a threat, someone outside their control. Watch yourself when you come into contact with them. Portland scared them. They won’t be as easy the next time...and here’s your floor. Good luck.”
The large metal doors opened with a slight screech and I stepped off. Looking back over my shoulder, I gave the elevator man a small salute. I was slowly getting used to strange advice coming from unusual places. Believing in otherworldly spiritual entities wasn’t a prerequisite for this job, but it was trending that way. I knew the Gods existed, because I’d met at least one already.
I followed the signs in the hallways and finally found the office I was looking for at the end of the hall. Since the door was already ajar, I didn’t knock. “Anyone here?”
Peeking inside, I could see two desks facing each other from opposite sides of the room. Filing cabinets lined the room, taking up all available wall space. Even the lone window was partially covered. Each desk had an agent behind it. But only one was awake. “What do you want?”
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Whipping out my credentials, I said, “Special Agent Jack Dalton. Washington sent me to you. I’m investigating the Bigfoot issue in Humboldt County.”
The scowl dropped off the Agent’s face to be replaced by mirth. It started as a giggle that turned into a bold-faced laugh. “Simon, wake up!”
Simon, who I assumed was the other man, didn’t budge. A faint snore could be heard from him.
Reaching behind him, the first agent grabbed a book from a small shelf and lobbed it at the desk across from him. Landing with a boom, the book bounced off the desk and hit the sleeping man in the head. He jerked awake with a “...the hell?”
“Nice of you to join us, Simon,” the first agent replied.
Simon rubbed his eyes and glared at him. “What did I say about throwing things at me, Arthur.”
The menace in Simon’s voice when he spoke Arthur’s name was clear even to me. I doubted these two would draw down on each other at work, but I was a stranger in a strange land here. I kept a small caliber weapon in a rear holder at the small of my back, and I was seriously considering reaching for it now.
“That you’d hurt me. But I know you didn’t mean it. We have company.” Arthur pointed in my direction.
Turning his glare to me, Simon spoke. “And?”
I blinked at him. “And what?”
Making a motion with his hand, Simon looked back at Arthur. “Don’t keep me in suspense here. I have a lot to do today.”
Arthur snorted but answered him, “He’s here about the Bigfoot problem. Remember that order we got from Washington?”
“Seriously? I thought that was a joke.” Simon reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a wrinkled and torn sheet of paper. Squinting at it for a moment, he looked back at me. “Dalton?”
“That’s me,” I replied.
“Arthur and I looked into this case and couldn’t find any definitive proof of anything. More than half the reported sightings and ‘evidence’ collected for more than sixty years, if you can believe that, is pure fiction. Fake footprints and men in monkey suits. That’s what this office has concluded in more than one report. As my dad would say, pure hokum. But what Washington wants Washington gets. Those three cabinets behind the door are what you want.” Simon pointed.
Looking to my left, I could see three overstuffed file cabinets with even more stuff piled on top of them. I shook my head and looked back at the agents. “How far back do they go?”
Arthur smirked. “Officially? Since 1958 when the Humboldt Times wrote an article about footprints and unusual sabotage at logging and mining sites in the area.” Pointing at Simon, Arthur continued. “Our predecessors did a ton of research into the subject. Not much else to do around here. Our assigned area is pretty boring. Some of those reports go back at least a century. Not sure if you’ll believe them, though. We didn’t.”
“There is more in our country than just heaven and hell. The Demon invasion should’ve proved that to us. What sort of Paranormals are around here?” I asked them.
Both men gave me surprised looks. “We don’t have any of those here.”
“Not possible. Paras are just about everywhere. With this much open space there has to be at least one or two Were Packs,” I informed them.
Simon shook his head. “I don’t think so. The tribes around here would’ve said something by now. Both the state and national parks take up a huge portion of our area. If they exist, they’re hiding really well.”
Arthur tapped his finger against his lips, then frowned. “There used to be a small reservation of Weres on the site of Fort Bragg. It was just a couple of buil
dings that included a really old barrack complex. Nobody had been interned there since the fort was abandoned in 1868. The Mendocino Indian Reservation was closed then, as well. The Army reopened it in the 1920s but closed it when the Magical Act was passed. I assumed that the Weres there left, but it’s possible they might still be in the town.” He looked at his partner for a moment then back to me. “We never thought to check.”
“So, there might be Weres. What does that matter?” Simon asked me.
“A lot, actually. Werefolk are very observant, especially when it comes to their territory and hunting grounds. If Bigfoot exists, they would’ve run across it by now,” I replied.
Simon slapped his desk. “Then why isn’t there a report somewhere about it? We have Weres in the FBI, don’t we?”
I smiled. “We do. But they, like most other Paras, don’t trust us all that much. We did put them in camps for more than thirty years.”
Arthur shook his head. “We let them serve in the military and alongside us.”
“To do that they had to swear loyalty to our government and were not allowed to go back to the reservations and their families for more than five years without permission. We treated them like third-class citizens for years,” I explained.
“Still, they do take the same oaths that we do,” Simon stated.
“They do, and they respect them. What takes precedent for you, family or government?” I asked him.
“Family,” Arthur blurted out even as Simon said, “Government.” Both men glared at each other.
“See? It’s a hard choice for some. I was raised by a Pack in Texas, one of the few humans to even do so. Most Weres trust Pack, family, friends, and then government.” I explained to them.
Simon cocked his head to one side and gave me a strange look. “How did that come about? Being raised by them.”