Three Alarm Fury

by Annabel Chase

  “I think it’s because there’s no one here,” I said, standing on the vortex. “Power in a vacuum serves no purpose for this demon. The chakra demon thrives on throwing alignment out of whack. If there are no people or supers here, then there’s nothing for the demon to do.”

  “Then it will most likely be searching for a concentration of chakras and power,” Neville said.

  “I’m sure that’s its preference.” I sighed. “At least we won’t be having another supernatural council meeting this week. That would be sure to draw its attention.” And none of us on the council had been affected yet.

  “What about your house?” Neville asked. “There’s certainly a concentration of power on Munster Close, especially on the Wentworth property.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “My mother and Aunt Thora have already been whacked. It’s not clear from the intel whether the demon would sense that and move on to someone else.”

  “I’ll go back to the office and see what I can find out,” Neville said. “Our Mexican counterparts were very helpful.”

  “Fine, I’ll go home.” I dreaded spending time there knowing that I wasn’t ready to confront my mother.

  Neville patted my arm. “It will all come out right in the end, Agent Fury. It always does.”

  “Except for the one time it doesn’t.” I thought of Paul Pidcock. The former agent probably would’ve laughed if someone had told him he’d die from bee stings generated by a fear demon.

  I left the vortex and went home to make sure there was no chakra demon lurking in the shadows. My family was assembled in the kitchen when I arrived home.

  “There you are,” Grandma said, giving me a disapproving look. “Your poor hellhound has been desperate for a walk.”

  “Couldn’t you walk her?” I asked. “It’s not like you’re busy.”

  “I’m not the one who decided to rescue her from the bowels of the underworld,” Grandma said. “She’s your responsibility.”

  The back door opened and my mother entered, holding the end of Princess Buttercup’s leash. “This hound’s legs are too long,” she complained. “I was practically dragged down the close.”

  “You walked Princess Buttercup?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I decided to exercise. I thought it might help ease my pent-up feelings.”

  “I thought you had a date, Beatrice,” Aunt Thora said from her place in front of the stovetop.

  “I cancelled,” my mother said. “There’s no point until this ridiculous phase passes.”

  Part of me wanted to stay silent on the subject, but I couldn’t help myself. Despite what she did to me, I didn’t want my mother to suffer. “As much as I hate to say this, your…libido will be back in action soon,” I said.

  My mother unleashed the hound and focused on me. “How do you know?”

  “It’s not you.” I hesitated. “Well, it is you, but there’s a demon responsible. It’s called a chakra demon and it’s messing with energy pools, including yours.”

  My mother yanked up her sleeves. “Where is it? I’ll turn that piece of garbage into ash. Save you the trouble of paperwork.”

  I rolled my eyes. “A dead demon would only create more paperwork.”

  “Oh, well. You are oddly fond of paperwork. Where can I find it?” The murderous look in her eye gave me pause. The penalty for ruining her sex drive was apparently death. Surprising that Anton and I made it to adulthood.

  “I’m handling this,” I said. “It’s official FBM business.” I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth, but I wanted to—what? Comfort her by letting her know that she would recover her mojo? What was wrong with me? Stupid perfectly aligned chakras.

  “How are you handling it?” my mother asked. “How do you kill it?”

  “I’m not going to kill it,” I said. “I’m going to capture it and call the extraction team.”

  My mother tipped her head back and released a frustrated groan. “Such a do-gooder. Just kill it and tell them you tried to capture it, but it refused to cooperate. Problem solved.”

  “Yes, lying to the Federal Bureau of Magic sounds like a marvelous plan,” I said.

  “If you don’t kill it, how will the chakras revert to their normal states?” Aunt Thora asked.

  “According to our research, once it’s out of range, the effects will diminish,” I said. “The demon’s been hanging around town, spreading its influence. The longer it stays, the worse the impact, which is why Rosalie went from demented to blind.”

  “Blind?” my mother asked softly.

  “Yes, trust me. You’ve gotten off easy.”

  “No, I haven’t,” my mother said. “That’s part of the problem.”

  I ignored her remark. “I just need to figure out where the demon will pop up next so I can trap it.”

  “Well, make sure you take care of it before Myrtle’s funeral,” Grandma said. “I don’t need some animated corpse leaping out of the casket.” She smiled to herself. “On second thought, that would liven things up a bit. So many stodgy witches in one place is a recipe for a coma. Maybe I’ll bring my flask.”

  “It’s not a necromancer,” I said. “It’s a chakra demon. Nothing will happen to Myrtle, but all the witches in one place…” Oh.

  My mother looked at me sideways. “What?”

  “That’s where the chakra demon will show up next,” I said. “All that power in one place. All that emotional energy. It’s going to be too much to resist.”

  “I don’t know about that,” my mother said. “The only ones with any real power are the ones you already live with, sweetheart.”

  No. There would be the LeRoux witches, too, as well as a bevy of other supernaturals. A supernatural funeral would be like X marks the spot.

  “I need to go,” I said.

  “You just got home,” Aunt Thora objected. “You should at least sit and have a cup of tea. Your mother already complains that you don’t spend enough time here.”

  “Aunt Thora!” my mother scolded her.

  “Can’t stay,” I said, and turned on my heel abruptly. Right now my mother’s complaints were the least of my concerns.

  “Where are you going?” my mother called after me.

  “Shopping. Apparently I need a tasteful black dress,” I said. “Looks like I’m going to a funeral.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I rode in the backseat of my mother’s car to Davenport Park. Grandma rode shotgun and Aunt Thora was in the back with me. It was only when we parked at Manchego Place that I realized where we were headed.

  “Wait. Myrtle’s funeral is being held on the vortex?”

  “Of course,” my mother said. “Where else?”

  Now I knew with certainty the chakra demon would make an appearance here. I just had to stay alert and be ready to pounce.

  We trudged up the hill to where two rows of chairs circled a casket. All the seats with a view of the Chesapeake had already been taken, so we had to settle for chairs in the second circle facing the river.

  “I need to be on the end,” Grandma said.

  “It’s a circle,” I said. “There is no end.”

  “Tell that to my bladder. I need to be able to make a quick escape.”

  “And go where?” I demanded. “The nearest bathroom is the public toilet in the park.”

  With a huff of indignation, Grandma sat next to Aunt Thora.

  “I can’t believe she’s in a casket,” someone said in a stage whisper. “That’s not our way.”

  “It’s made from sustainable materials,” her companion replied. “There’s a funeral specialist that understands the needs of supernaturals.”

  “It would be better if it was just her body,” the other woman said. “I don’t care for these modern services.”

  My phone buzzed and I read a text from Neville letting me know that he’d arrived. I sent him a thumbs up emoji in response and put away my phone.

  A witch across the circle began to cry so hard that she gasped for air
. The wizard beside her handed her a handkerchief.

  “I thought witches were more reserved,” I whispered.

  Grandma silenced me with a look. “It’s a funeral. What do you expect? Everyone is busy contemplating their own mortality.” She narrowed her eyes. “Except you—you immortal wench with your flaming eyeballs.” She returned her attention to her phone screen where the Little Critters app was open.

  “Grandma,” I scolded her. “This is a funeral. Can’t you stop the game for half an hour?”

  “There’s a critter here I need to catch. I’ve been trying to get this sucker for two weeks. If I don’t catch him now, who knows how long it will be?”

  “Show some respect for Myrtle,” I said. “How would you feel if she played a game throughout your service?”

  Grandma continued to play. “I’d be dead, so what would I care?”

  My mother leaned over and whispered, “Funerals can bring out odd behavior. People feel vulnerable. Afraid even. I mean, any one of us can be next.”

  “It’s not an Agatha Christie novel,” Grandma shot back.

  “It’s sweet that your little friend decided to join you,” my mother said. She wiggled a finger at Neville across the circle. “He follows you around like a lovesick puppy.”

  “He’s not my little friend and he isn’t lovesick. He’s my assistant and we’re here to stop a demon, remember?”

  My mother reached across to pat my hand. “That’s what they all say, sweetheart.”

  I brushed off her comment. I refused to take the bait, especially in the middle of a funeral and a mission.

  Grandma hissed under her breath when she spotted Adele and Corinne slide into seats not far from Neville.

  “You should be happy there are so many mourners here for Myrtle,” I said.

  “Oh, please. They’re just here to see whether she makes good on her promise to haunt us for the rest of our lives.”

  I reeled back. “Myrtle said that?”

  Grandma shrugged. “She might have had a little too much sherry that night. She also said she was going to ride through town on an elephant in nothing but her birthday suit.”

  I clucked my tongue. “And you said she was boring.”

  “Not drunk Myrtle. Drunk Myrtle was a hoot.”

  Before the service could begin, a gust of wind blew through the circle and I felt the energy shift. The hairs stood on the back of my neck. Showtime.

  I took out my phone and sent a text to Neville. While everyone was busy mourning and gossiping, Neville had placed runes around the outside of the circle to keep the demon contained when it finally arrived—which it had.

  An elderly witch stood to say a few words about Myrtle.

  “Sit down,” I yelled.

  “Eden don’t be rude,” my mother said.

  A shimmering haze appeared in the middle of the circle next to the casket. It reminded me of the bands of color produced by an oil slick. All the chakra colors were represented. Too bad it was wreaking havoc because it was kind of pretty to look at.

  Corinne appeared by my side. “What is that?”

  “A chakra demon,” I said. “It’s responsible for your mother’s condition.”

  Corinne’s jaw tightened. “Tell me how I can help.”

  “I need to keep the area clear while Neville and I work to capture it,” I said. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  Corinne let loose a shrill whistle. “Supers, we need to move! The fury needs her space!”

  “Do we have to use labels?” I asked. “You could just say my name.”

  Corinne scrunched her nose. “Your name is Fury.”

  Oh, right.

  While Corinne successfully herded the mourners off to the side, I ran through my game plan. I considered using my siphoning power to concentrate all the present witches’ power in me, but with chakras off balance, it seemed too risky. I could end up an emotional basket case incapable of defeating my own demons, let alone the one standing in front of me.

  “What are you waiting for, Eden?” my mother asked. “An invitation?”

  The hazy rainbow began to swirl.

  “Oh no you don’t! Party’s over, Chakra Khan,” I said.

  “Chakra demon,” Neville corrected me.

  I cut him a glance. “Eighties reference, Neville. Keep up.”

  The colors sharpened and glowed and I knew the demon was trying to work its mojo on me. Emotions began slipping and sliding. The memory of Tanner and Sassy flooded my senses. Their betrayal. And my mother’s.

  “Nope,” I said. “Not going to happen.” I could feel the pull along my spine, as though the demon was physically trying to rearrange bits of it. “My energy pools are staying exactly as they are, thanks.”

  The demon didn’t speak. I felt my spine relax and knew it had released whatever foothold it was trying to gain, yet the bands of color continued to spin and glow as though the demon was still hard at work.

  I quickly realized the reason why.

  I turned to see old ladies in black dresses creep closer to me from where Corinne had sequestered them. The demon planned to use the mourners to attack me by influencing their chakras. It hadn’t occurred to me that it could bring out the violent side of residents, but of course that made sense.

  “Eden Fury, you step away from that chakra demon or you’re going to be in a world of pain,” Adele warned. Her eyes burned with anger.

  I hesitated. No way could I fight a coven of witches without someone getting hurt, which was exactly what I’d hoped to avoid.

  “Look over here, Eden,” Grandma called. “I’m being irreverent!” She climbed onto the casket and began to belt Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song at the top of her lungs.

  I looked at the demon. “Uh, I think you might’ve moved the wrong chakra there.” Thank the gods because the thought of fighting Grandma was enough to put me in a coma.

  My mother ran to the casket and I thought she was going to force Grandma to come down. Instead I heard her say, “I know I don’t say it often enough, but you’re the best mother in all the realms.” She held up her arms for a hug.

  Grandma looked down at her. “Go fill up your love tank somewhere else. Can’t you see I’m busy singing up here?”

  “Love me,” my mother screeched, wriggling her fingers.

  Aunt Thora sat in a chair and wept. “Why doesn’t my daughter ever visit?” she wailed.

  She rarely mentioned Uncle Moyer’s sister. I didn’t even realize it bothered her that her daughter left Chipping Cheddar and never looked back. Like I would have if I hadn’t sunk my temporary fangs into Fergus.

  I turned back to the demon. “I guess you can’t control an army if you can’t control which way their chakras will shift. Tough luck.”

  “It won’t take an army to defeat you, darling,” Adele said. “One strong witch will do the trick.”

  The demon’s colors began to stretch and swirl around the circle. It was gearing up for another kind of attack.

  “I can’t decide what to do,” Corinne said. Her gaze darted around the room. “Do I help attack the demon? Do I help my grandmother? Do I make sure Esther doesn’t fall off the casket and break a hip?”

  Great. Analysis paralysis. Not what I needed during a fight.

  “Neville,” I called. “A little help!”

  “Doing what, O wondrous one?” he called back in a singsong voice.

  Sometimes the wizard was the smartest guy in the room but not today. “I need the crystals!”

  “Oh, right.” He patted his pockets until he located the bottomless bag. “They’re all in here. Deceptive, isn’t it?”

  “Can you be proud of your invention later? I’m in the middle of a situation.”

  He tossed the bag across the circle and I caught it with one hand. I emptied the bag of crystals into my open palm and said the incantation that Neville had gotten from our friends in Mexico. It was in Spanish so I had no idea what I was saying, but I plowed ahead. I threw the crystals i
nto the air and hoped for the best. I watched in awe as each band of color got sucked into the corresponding crystal—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.

  “The demon version of drawing and quartering,” Neville said cheerfully. He gathered up the demon-infused crystals and placed them back in the bottomless bag. “This will serve until the extraction team arrives.”

  I finally released the breath I’d been holding. “Thanks, Neville. You’ve been a huge help.”

  “De nada,” he said. “I’ll alert the Mexican office that the demon has been captured.”

  “What happens to the crystals once they’re back in Otherworld?” I asked.

  “According to protocol, the pieces of the demon will be released so that it can reform. It’s considered cruel and unusual punishment to keep it apart.”

  “What about the crystals?” I asked.

  “They’ll be returned to headquarters in time.” He shrugged. “Could take months. You know how bureaucracy is.”

  Now that the chakra demon was safely separated and encapsulated, I was able to focus on the scene around me. Some mourners were sobbing. Some were recovering from angry meltdowns. Grandma sat on the casket, her legs dangling over the side, while she happily played what could only be Little Critters on her phone.

  “Grandma, you should probably get down now,” I said. I walked over and offered a hand to help her. “Poor Myrtle.”

  Grandma took my hand and jumped to the ground. “Are you kidding? Myrtle doesn’t know how lucky she is. This funeral was way more exciting than anything that happened to her in life.”

  “Drunk Myrtle would have loved it,” Aunt Thora said.

  My mother blinked as she looked around the hillside in a daze. “I feel emotionally exhausted.”

  “No kidding,” Grandma said. “You should’ve seen yourself. It was just like when you were a baby begging for my attention.”

  “Which you never gave,” my mother said bitterly.

  “You were a baby,” Grandma said. “It doesn’t get much more boring than that.”

  “Grandma!” I admonished her.

  “Wait until you have kids of your own,” Grandma said knowingly. “You’ll see.”