Great Balls of Fury

by Annabel Chase

  “But the scanners at the portal…” Gustav scratched his head. “They should have detected another demon.” His expression shifted, a spark of memory.

  “What do you remember, Gustav?” I asked.

  He hesitated. “There was a glitch,” Gustav said. “When I went through the scanner, it froze. They had to send me through again. I thought it was because of the ceramic dragon.”

  “The demon probably attached himself to someone else on the other side of the scanner and then reattached to you when you walked through,” I said.

  Gustav’s brow knitted together. “He can do that?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “His whole plan was likely to enter this world and feed off the fears of his victims until he gained strength.”

  “So I set him loose in Chipping Cheddar?” Gustav asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” I said. “He only needed to attach himself to you to get through the portal undetected.”

  “And then decided to travel a bit further with you,” my father said. “Can’t say I blame him, Gustav. You’re good company.”

  “My guess is he’s staying here until he can gain enough power to return to a corporeal state,” I said.

  “So you need to stop him before he returns fully to his physical form,” Gustav said, understanding.

  “Yes, based on what he’s done so far with no body at all, he’s a powerful demon,” I said. “There’s no telling what he’ll be capable of once he’s completely restored.”

  My father’s gaze swept the room. “So the question is—where is he now?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The attic was too dark for reading, so I squirreled myself away in the sunroom at the back of the house and hoped no one noticed me.

  No such luck.

  “What are you doing in here, Eden?” My mother stood in the entryway. She wore a shimmering black, knee-length dress with kitten heels. I had to admit, her legs still looked as good as ever. Probably a spell. The woman would only run if chased and, let’s face it, no one was foolish or brave enough to chase her.

  “Research,” I said. “Why are you dressed for one of Gatsby’s parties?”

  She pressed her palm flat against her chest. “If only. This is a date with a mere mortal. Bryant Pullman.”

  My eyes popped. “A date? You’re dating?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Because you’re old didn’t seem like the best answer. “I didn’t realize that was something you did.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ve been dating since before you left town. You just were too wrapped up in your own world to notice.”

  Or maybe I didn’t want to picture my mother giggling over tiramisu at the Chophouse.

  “Wait. Why are you allowed to date humans, but I’m not?”

  Her tinkling laughter filled the room. “Eden, I’ve had my children. I’m not looking for anything serious, just a bit of fun.”

  I did not want to picture my mother having fun of any kind, certainly not naked fun. “So who’s Bryant Pullman?”

  “You remember him, Eden. He taught at the high school.”

  “Mr. Pullman?” My whole body broke out in a sweat. “But he was my history teacher in eleventh grade.” I remembered his pronounced Adam’s apple and his enthusiasm for Teddy Roosevelt.

  “And tonight maybe he’ll manage to teach me a few things.” She winked and I wanted to crawl under the wicker chair and die.

  “Well, have a good time. Don’t talk about me.” I returned my focus to the text in my lap, but my mother wasn’t finished torturing me yet.

  “Sweet Hecate. Is that a book?” She practically recoiled.

  “Yes, it’s a book. That thing with pages and words that provides entertainment or information.”

  “You don’t have to get smart with me, young lady. Have you forgotten the punishment for a sharp tongue around here?”

  How could I? It used to involve a swollen tongue, so that no matter how I moved my mouth, my teeth ended up nipping the edges. Good times.

  “Sorry, it’s not a grimoire,” I mumbled.

  “Pfft. Who uses a grimoire anymore? If I want to learn a new spell, I go online.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course you do.”

  Not put off by the sight of a physical book, she came over to inspect it. “Your father will be pleased.” She tapped the page I had open, where the face of a fear demon stared back at me. “Finally getting in touch with your demonic side?”

  “It’s for the case I’m working on,” I said. “I need to learn as much about fear demons as I can.”

  “Or what will happen?” My mother suppressed a laugh. “You were always such a dramatic child. Everything was life or death with you.”

  I gaped at her. “This is life or death,” I said heatedly. “It’s the whole nature of my job.”

  She patted my shoulder. “Of course it is, dear.”

  “It’s the nature of a lot of demons’ jobs,” Grandma interjected.

  I jolted. I hadn’t even noticed her snoozing in the chaise lounge on the other side of the sunroom.

  “See?” my mother said. “You’re not so different from the rest of us.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to engage. “Fear demons grow stronger by feeding on the fears of their victims. A shade would need to absorb a lot of energy in order to return to his physical form.”

  “You think that’s why Mick died?” my mother asked.

  “Yes, I think the demon has been trying to suck as much fearful energy as he can in order to return to his natural state. It wasn’t enough to scare Chief O’Neill with a fear of drowning, he had to take it as far as possible.” Too far.

  “Which resulted in Mick’s death,” my mother said. I was grateful to hear the note of sadness in her voice. It reminded me that my family wasn’t all bad, even though it seemed that way to me most of the time.

  “That would explain the elevator guy.” Grandma snapped her fingers. “What’s his name?”

  “Elliott,” I replied. “Yes, he had a fear of enclosed spaces. The demon likely sensed his fear and compelled Elliott into the elevator, then sucked the fear from him until he died of a heart attack.”

  My mother perched on the edge of the chaise lounge. “And Paul Pidcock, too. The bee sting allergy.”

  I nodded. “And the demon leaves no evidence because he has no physical form. Not yet.” But he had to be close to regaining his solid form. “According to the book, once he’s amassed the requisite level of energy, he needs to complete one final act.”

  “A ritual,” my mother said.

  “Yes. How’d you know?”

  She patted her perfectly coiffed hair. “My brains are almost as big as my boobs.”

  I cringed. “Thanks for that mental image.” I consulted the book. “I’m trying to find out what’s involved so that I can get one step ahead of him.”

  My mother chewed her lip. “This might be more exciting than my date.”

  “You’re going out with a high school history teacher,” Grandma said. “A nap is more exciting than your date.”

  My mother twisted to glare at her. “I’ll have you know Bryant is an absolute animal where it counts. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn he’s got some shifter in his bloodline.”

  I groaned. “Can we stop this conversation so I can get back to work?” If I could manage to focus after the image of Mr. Pullman as an amorous tiger assaulted my headspace.

  My mother stood and smoothed the front of her dress. “You’re such a child, Eden.”

  “Yes, your child,” I said. “Which is why this discussion never needs to happen.”

  “You’re just jealous because you’re not getting any,” Grandma piped up.

  “Hey! Whose team are you on?” I demanded.

  “The winning team.” Grandma rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m rejoining David Hasselhoff in my dream. Word to the wise: a talking car is not the best place to get frisky unless you w
ant a running commentary.”

  I smacked my head with the book. “I really need my own place.” Like tomorrow.

  “Your father and I were discussing that very topic,” my mother said.

  My brow lifted. “You were? And it was at normal volume?”

  My mother smiled. “There was no yelling. It’s nice when he and I can agree on a topic. Anyway, we’ve decided that, if you’re interested, we can convert the old barn into separate living quarters for you. It’s right on the property line so he and I needed to agree on it.”

  The old barn. “That’s a decent size.”

  “We thought so,” my mother said, clearly pleased with herself. “It would help you get back on your feet following your unfortunate…dismissal.”

  “I wasn’t fired,” I ground out.

  “Why can’t I have the barn?” Grandma asked.

  A worthwhile question.

  “Because I need to keep an eye on you,” my mother told her. “Leaving you to your own devices hundreds of feet away is not a good idea for anybody.”

  Grandma waved a hand at me. “She’s the one to worry about. I’m an old witch with barely passable skills. She’s a fury.”

  “Whatever, Grandma,” I muttered. “Why don’t you put your passable skills to use and help me figure out how to stop this fear demon?”

  “That’s your job,” Grandma replied. “I don’t get paid for that.”

  I returned my attention to the book and tried to focus. “It says here that in order to become corporeal, the demon will basically need to perform a ritual akin to summoning himself.” I scanned the text. “He’ll need the bay and the river.”

  “What about a pool?” Grandma said. “Josephine Levy has one. I wouldn’t mind if he took shape there and then decided on a snack.”

  “Grandma!”

  “What? She cheats at cards. I’m tired of losing.”

  “He needs the bay and river because he needs a vortex and that’s the closest one,” I said. A vortex is a place where multiple ley lines converge and powerful energy can be harnessed. I knew for a fact there was one in Chipping Cheddar. It would be impossible to house a portal to Otherworld, dormant or not, and not have a vortex.

  “A vortex makes sense,” my mother agreed.

  I snapped the book closed. “I’d better call Neville. I’m going to need his help.”

  “You’re Eden Fury,” Grandma said. “You don’t need help from anybody, certainly not somebody called Neville.”

  “You need to embrace who you are, Eden,” my mother chimed in.

  “So what am I supposed to do if I run into the demon without a plan? Smite him?”

  “You’re not the hand of God, sweetheart,” my mother said, patting my leg. “You don’t smite.”

  That’s where she was wrong. I was a fury. Smiting was in my DNA.

  “Kill him and grind him into a fine powder,” Grandma said. “I’ll brew him in my tea.”

  I grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”

  “You didn’t complain when I made that nice lemon ginger concoction.” She shuffled around on the chaise lounge until she seemed comfortable and closed her eyes again.

  Okay, I was officially never drinking Grandma’s tea again.

  I jumped to my feet. “Thanks for the illuminating conversation, but I need to go.” Now that I had the location of the ritual, I couldn’t waste any more time.

  My mother gave me an encouraging wave. “Good luck, dear. Have fun storming the summoning circle.”

  “Can you make me invisible?” I asked. Neville and I were in our office and I’d just finished updating him on my discovery.

  Neville tilted his head. “You don’t have the power of invisibility?”

  “Not yet.” And hopefully I never would. Invisibility would mean that I was on the path to full fury.

  “Fascinating,” he said. “I didn’t realize that you acquire your abilities over time.”

  “It’s because of my mixed bloodline,” I said. “I have to demonstrate my aptitude for bad deeds and poof! I’m gifted a new skill.” Like black wings for flying.

  Neville shook his head. “Bad deeds. You’ve a warped sense of humor.”

  “What do you mean?” I swiveled my chair to face him.

  “Furies aren’t inherently evil,” he said. “They simply mete out justice to evildoers.”

  “And revenge,” I said. “They drive people insane. What if the person’s crime was that he stole beef jerky from the convenience store? I don’t think my type of justice is warranted in that case, do you?”

  “You’re afraid,” Neville said quietly. “Be very careful, most malevolent mistress. You wouldn’t want the fear demon using your energy to complete his transformation.”

  He had a point. I inhaled deeply. “I’m ready to take him down, Neville. I’ve got a hemlock stick and I’m not afraid to use it, and an invisibility spell would help me out.”

  “A hemlock stick?” he queried. “To strike the death blow?”

  “He was already eviscerated,” I said. “It’s not a moral issue.” At least I didn’t think so, but Neville’s tone had me second-guessing myself. Good Goddess, a little over a week with my family and my moral compass was out of whack.

  “I’ll get straight to work on your charm.” He stopped short. “What about the other items for the summoning circle? Surely, you need more than a hemlock stick.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Yes, can you also create a device that makes a supernatural appear human?”

  “You already appear quite human,” Neville said.

  “It’s not for me. Apart from that, I think I have what I need, except peppermint leaves,” I said. According to the text, peppermint leaves were the best way to draw this particular demon to me. Any other time, my family had jars of peppermint leaves in the pantry because they were a common ingredient in potions and spells. Naturally, Aunt Thora had used the last of the leaves in a diaper rash potion for Ryan.

  “I’m certain we can find an appropriate substitute if needed,” Neville said. He spun around and vaulted himself toward the table at the back of the office. “Would you mind procuring a donut for me? Sugar helps me focus.”

  “Are you sure it doesn’t have the opposite effect?”

  “Quite.”

  Okay then. “Which kind?”

  “Boston cream would be divine. Thank you.”

  I left him to work on my invisibility charm and went next door to Holes. The interior wasn’t as downtrodden as I expected. In fact, it was downright adorable. Lots of bubblegum pink fixtures and fittings and shiny stainless steel. A plucky young brunette stood behind the counter wearing an apron covered in images of donuts.

  “You must be Eden,” she said with a big smile. “I’m Paige Turner.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I’ve seen you pass by with Neville and he mentioned a new boss.” She frowned. “Losing Paul was a sad day for all of us. He loved his cinnamon donuts.”

  “Neville said you and your husband own this place.”

  She brightened at the mention of her husband. “We do! Some people think it’s hard to work with your spouse, but Shia and I enjoy it. Plus, it was hard for him to find work because of his criminal record, so it was just easier for me to take him on.”

  Was it rude to ask about his record? Probably. “What was he convicted of?”

  Paige’s gaze darted around the shop, although there was no one else present. “Money laundering, but he’s totally clean now, just like the money he laundered.” She laughed awkwardly.

  “Have you met the new chief?”

  Paige leaned on the counter with a dreamy expression. “Have I ever? He likes bear claws and black coffee, in case you’re wondering.”

  “Not wondering. Not even a little bit.” I cleared my throat, trying to block the image of Chief Fox and I curled under a blanket in front of a crackling fire with a hearty breakfast of donuts and coffee.

  Paige retrieved a Boston cream donut from th
e plastic compartment. “I know that’s what Neville wants. How about you? Got a guilty pleasure?”

  I examined the contents of the compartments. “I’ll try a glazed chocolate, please.” We’d have to relocate the office if I hoped to stay slim.

  Paige produced a glazed chocolate donut. “Anything else? Coffee or tea?”

  I suddenly remembered the need peppermint leaves. “Do you happen to have any peppermint?”

  “Like actual peppermint? How about spearmint gum?”

  “No, that won’t work. It has to be peppermint.” Did that sound like a strange demand? If so, Paige took it in stride.

  She tapped her pink nails on the counter. “Hold on. Let me check.” She hurried into the backroom. I struggled not to nibble on my donut while she was gone. My willpower was weak when it came to my sweet tooth.

  After a minute, she returned to the counter with a bag of peppermint candies. “Found these left over from Christmas. Will they do?” She peered into the bag. “They’re old, so I won’t charge you for them.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” I took the bags of peppermints and donuts back to my office, where Neville was apparently putting the finishing touches on my request.

  “I thought you needed a donut to work,” I said, and tossed the bag onto the table.

  “I got inspired and ran with it,” Neville replied. His gaze locked on the Boston cream donut. “Hello, gorgeous.”

  “That’s a pretty necklace,” I said.

  He lifted the piece of gold jewelry from the table. It was a simple design with a dangling locket.

  “What’s in the locket?” I asked.

  “The spell,” he said. “While you’re wearing the necklace, you close it to remain invisible and open it to be visible again.”

  “You’re a genius.” I took the necklace and slipped it over my head.

  “Works like a charm,” he joked.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “How can I tell?” I could still see myself.

  Neville reached for a small mirror on a nearby shelf and held it in front of me. Nothing. I was like a vampire. I opened the locket.