Mr. Peabody's House

by Eve Langlais

  The creak of a floorboard from behind had me whirling.

  The woman who’d fed me the nasty cookies stood there, the only spot of vibrant life, the red spark in her eyes bright.

  “Well, hello there, Brenda. So nice of you to come and visit.”

  “Who are you?” I asked. “And don’t say Mrs. Peabody.” I jabbed my finger at the frame. “That’s Mrs. Peabody.”

  A laugh bubbled from her, deeper than expected, rich with mirth, the kind that dragged nails down your spine and somehow made a sound. “But I am Mrs. Peabody. The new and improved version.”

  “You possessed her.”

  “How else was I to stay in this world? My body wasn’t made for this space.” Her nose wrinkled. “Now, it is.” She stroked her hands down her body, her hands skimming the curves showcased in her hugging knit dress.

  “What about the kids?”

  Her lips curved into a secretive smile. “They have new owners, too. And so shall you shortly.”

  “No, thank you.” I whirled for the door, only to have an invisible fist grab me and turn me back around.

  “Leaving so soon?” Said in a taunting lilt. “Won’t you stay for a while?”

  “I’d rather not. I’m expected elsewhere.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t make that meeting.” She took a step toward me. “You’re not going anywhere, Brenda. Not when you smell so good.”

  Again with the food thing.

  I, Brenda Whittaker, am not a meal.

  Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Wolves could dine all they liked on the Brenda buffet. Demons, no. I had to draw the line somewhere.

  Grabbing the picture from the wall, I threw it at the Peabody body snatcher and ran for the door. At least, that was my plan.

  But the floor abruptly crumbled, leaving me teetering on the edge, and I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my balance.

  And that was when the house swallowed me.

  Dale Interlude

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” Dale asked less than an hour later. They’d only been gone a few hours. Returning early enough, they’d hoped to still catch her in bed.

  As Sebastian tripped down the stairs, he shrugged. “Bed’s empty and cold. She’s not upstairs.”

  “Or on this floor,” Mike added.

  “She left? Why would she do that?” Dale frowned. “Didn’t you leave her a note?” he asked Mike.

  “I did.”

  “You mean this note?” Sebastian held it up and read it. “Had fun. Had to run. Later.”

  Dale’s brow’s shot up. “Did you seriously not put anything else? Like, hey, there’s coffee in the cupboard, a spare toothbrush in the bathroom? We’ll see you in a few hours?”

  Mike shrugged. “I condensed it.”

  “For a shrink, you’re awfully clueless. She more than likely took off, thinking we’re assholes who just used her for sex.”

  “Instead of being pissed at me, how about being mad at the idiots outside who didn’t see her leaving?” Mike jabbed a finger in their direction.

  “Oh, I intend to speak to them.” With his fist. Dale had given them one simple task. Just one. Watch over Brenda. And they’d failed miserably. Worse, they had no idea where she’d gone.

  “Well, this isn’t how I’d planned to spend our day.” Dale eyed the box of pastries and the tray of coffees they’d grabbed on their way home. Getting called in for a debriefing in the middle of the night about their role in the demon affair wasn’t his idea of a good time. Especially since it took hours, as the wizards felt a need to question everyone and everything more than once.

  “Don’t freak out, bro.” Sebastian held up his hands in a cool-it gesture. “No big deal. She probably had shit to do, so she took off. It is a work day. She could even be in her office. We’ll track her down.”

  “At her office without any fresh clothes?” Mike mused aloud, “She’d go home first.”

  “Or,” Dale added, “maybe she went to pick up her truck from the garage? Which one did you send it to?”

  At the blank look on Sebastian’s face, a sinking feeling filled Dale’s stomach. “Mike, please tell me you at least thought to have it moved from the Peabodys’ place?”

  The ashen features on his friend’s face answered that question.

  “Surely, she wouldn’t have returned there.” Dale said it and immediately groaned.

  Mike echoed it. “Of course she would because she’s a moron.”

  “I’m sure she’d label it fearless.” Sebastian chuckled. “She certainly is a handful.”

  More than a handful, and oh so precious to Dale, to all of them, especially after last night.

  “We’re assuming she went to get it. Perhaps we’re freaking out for nothing. Maybe she just went home.” Sebastian tossed out a likely scenario.

  “Without money?” Dale still had her purse.

  “But did you think to shake down her clothes for a phone? You can pay for a lot of things, including a cab, with a simple tap these days.”

  “You’re not helping,” Dale growled.

  “How about we call her phone and see if she answers?” Mike provided the voice of reason.

  The phone rang and rang and rang, finally getting answered by the voicemail. “You’ve reached my awesome ass, but I’m too busy to answer you right now, so leave a message, and if you’re hot, I’ll get back to you.”

  Hanging up, Dale sighed. “Now what?”

  “I’ll go check her place,” Sebastian offered.

  Mike shook his head. “We need to start thinking instead of reacting, which means, before we run off half-cocked, why don’t we call her best friend?”

  But reacting felt so much better than thinking about what might have happened. It wasn’t just demons and the Peabodys they had to worry about, but the collective, too. Dale and the others had fended off their queries about Brenda, but that didn’t mean those bastards wouldn’t act behind their backs.

  Mike’s idea had merit, though. Dale dialed Chloe, who answered on the second ring. “Hello.”

  “Have you heard from Brenda?” He skipped the pleasantries.

  “Is something wrong?” Chloe’s pleasant tone turned sharp with worry.

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. We left Brenda somewhere safe, only she managed to escape, and now we’re trying to find her.”

  “Sounds like Brenda. Hold on. Let me find her phone with my app. It’s how we keep tabs on each other in case we get kidnapped by men who want to use us for our epic bodies.”

  “They’d die.” A claim uttered in the background on Chloe’s end.

  “Painfully.” Another comment.

  Dale could understand the sentiment. He was feeling pretty dangerous right about now.

  Chloe made a noise. “Oh dear.”

  While he could probably guess why she said it, Dale still had to ask. “Where is she?”

  “The Peabodys’ house.” Chloe then went on a rant. “Why does she do this to me? I told her not to go there. It’s dangerous. I swear she’s trying to turn me gray.” Then she burst into tears.

  The phone got passed to someone else.

  A brusque, “Get your ass over there pronto to find her,” from Pete.

  “We’re leaving.”

  No question, but they would go find her.

  They piled into Mike’s car, Dale taking shotgun. As his usually calm and collected bro took the corners at deadly speeds, his phone rang.

  Dale answered it, despite the fact that the display showed private caller. “Lost and Found Kennels, where we sniff crotches for free.”

  “Your attempts at humor are falling flat. What a surprise.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Where is the female?”

  Only one man he’d recently met had that pompous tone. “Why are you looking for her?” Because if the grand Whizziar searched for Brenda, it didn’t bode well.

  “The why isn’t important. Do you have her in your custody? Information
has come to light that makes it imperative she be kept away from the Peabody house at all costs.”

  “And how bad would it be if I said that she might be there right now?”

  Slam.

  The abrupt hanging up had Dale’s blood turning cold. “Drive faster. Brenda’s in deep shit.”

  17

  So getting eaten by a house proved less painful than expected. It didn’t involve any actual chewing of my body parts or gross digestive juices.

  However, I did find myself in an odd dilemma.

  More like an odd place.

  “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore,” I said, channeling my favorite old movie. Nor did I have Toto, or any of my dogs with me.

  I could have used them for moral support.

  A glance around showed me somewhere surreal. A mostly gray landscape, rocky and barren, the ground a jagged stone that humped unevenly. Behind me, a taller pile of rock loomed, along with the slit I’d gotten spat out of. Should I pop back in?

  Would shoving myself through that gap take me back into the house, or would something a little more dire happen? How did I know this wasn’t the mouth of a beast?

  That girl in Temple of Doom might have braved sticking her hand in that hole, but I still remembered the shivering horror of those bugs crawling over her. I couldn’t do it.

  Besides, shouldn’t I explore just a little?

  A warm breeze with hints of sulfur fluttered at my skin, a rotten smell that made my nose wrinkle. Would I asphyxiate if I breathed it too long? My lungs didn’t hurt. Not yet.

  Whoosh.

  A sudden burst of flames from the ground drew a squeak from me, and it echoed in the stillness. Way to draw attention to myself. For once, that didn’t seem like the brightest idea.

  Whatever lived in this place might be all too interested in a human girl who’d wandered somewhere she shouldn’t have.

  A bigger dilemma than the one of whether or not human flesh was considered a tasty treat was, where should I go? What should I do?

  The movies I’d seen involving people getting sucked into weird alternate universes without fail had people trying to get home.

  With that thought in mind, I whirled to face the crack, ready to wedge myself in and hope the house regurgitated me. I’d brave the black hole to return to my rightful world.

  That was the plan until I noticed a pair of red eyes peeking at me from the top of the stony crag.

  Those crimson orbs, I might add, peered out from the face of a tiny gray gargoyle perched over the dark slit.

  The size of a kitten, and a fugly kind of cute, I crooned. “Hey, cutiekins, aren’t you just adorable. Want to come back with me?” I’d been talking about getting a pet, and I didn’t know anyone who owned an alternate dimension gargoyle.

  It made a cooing sound that drew me closer.

  A second head popped up. Another gargoyle, much larger this time, but just as craggily adorable.

  I reached out a hand, and the big one opened its mouth, revealing a row of teeth, but it was the way it unhinged its jaws and showed a second layer of sharp incisors that made me snatch my hand back, that and the lisped, “Supper!”

  Oh, hell no.

  I had two choices as it unfurled its wings. Dive for the slit and hope I didn’t get wedged—because if I did, that little monster would probably feast on my ass—or run. Since I rather liked my butt, guess what I chose.

  Whirling around, I bolted and immediately regretted my choice as the pebbles underfoot rolled, upsetting my balance. The cracks zigzagging through the arid soil sought to twist my ankles. The uneven surface tried to trip me. As if all that wasn’t annoying enough, flying around in circles overheard, chirping, was my little gargoyle buddy and his papa.

  Big papa wasn’t even pretending I had a chance.

  Had to be a male to taunt me so.

  The overcast sky lent a shadowy pallor to the land, making it hard to discern much, but as I ran, I noticed what appeared to be a building in the distance. Shelter.

  With a door.

  I pounded on it, noting the gray and weathered age of the wood bound into a rectangle by bands of metal. There was a handle that didn’t do shit when yanked.

  The bigger gargoyle—that I nicknamed Butthead—fluttered overhead with a keening cry before perching on the crumbling stone edge of the roof. A two-story tower on the edge of nowhere. Little Butt wobbled as it landed beside its daddy. A predator in training.

  When the door opened, and I saw the light shining within, I might have sobbed in relief.

  Then backed away.

  “Um, yeah, sorry to have bothered you. Wrong house. I think I’ll be leaving now.”

  The hulking demon, with curling horns and bright red eyes, grinned. “Master will be happy to see you.”

  Lovely. How had I gone from no one wanting me to everyone?

  Fuck.

  Pivoting, I didn’t figure there was much chance of me escaping. Butthead had obviously herded me here. But I tried anyway, running once again—despite my protesting legs—only to find myself plucked into the air, legs still pumping but not getting me anywhere.

  And the big brute who’d captured me took me into his lair.

  18

  Okay, so it wasn’t Butthead’s lair. But at the time, I didn’t know it. All I knew was he carried me into a weird place with things that made no sense.

  Like the rose-colored carpet on the floor, lumpy and curling at the edges, stained by dust.

  A dining room set, the wood also covered in a patina of gray—indicating a strong need for a maid or, at least, a vacuum.

  More things I recognized dotted the room, such as a television, and stereo, both silent. It took only a moment for my brain to have a light-bulb moment.

  These were the missing items from Peabody’s house. He wasn’t completely crazy.

  I, on the other hand, might be a little off-kilter because, sitting on a throne at the far end of the room, was a man. Not a demon. Or a monster. Not even a guy with horns and a tail, but a hottie of epic proportions.

  Flame-red hair, a smirk on his lips, and a red spark in his eyes. His alabaster skin smooth, his body lean and dressed in faded black leather.

  “If it isn’t Miss Brenda Jane Whittaker.”

  He knew my name. That couldn’t be good. “Hi.” It seemed rude to say nothing.

  “I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately.”

  What had he heard? Good stuff? Bad? Did I care? “Oh, like what?” I played it safe.

  “You’re the direct descendent of Jasmine Baker. Or, as we used to call her before she escaped this hell, Jas’a’meen Ba’ak’ra, which translates to she who bakes the blood of her enemies.”

  I blinked because I knew the first name he mentioned. “Are you talking about Meemaw?” My sweet little meemaw?

  “So you admit to being related to her?”

  “She’s my grandma.”

  “Twice removed heir.” He sniffed the air. “I can smell her faintly on your skin.”

  “Which is kind of gross considering I showered.” And I hadn’t seen Meemaw since she’d left on her cruise a few weeks ago.

  “We’ve been waiting a long time to find her again.”

  “Hate to break it to you, but you still technically haven’t. I mean, I’m here, she’s not, and given I’m pretty sure you’re not on any map, it’s doubtful she’ll find me.” No one would find me. Even my wolfie lovers, if still interested, would have a hard time sniffing my trail into Hell.

  “We don’t need her to come to us. You were kind enough to heed our call.”

  “What call? I’m pretty sure I didn’t answer any numbers from Hell recently.” If it had 666 in it, I knew better than to say hello.

  “You were lured here as part of my plan. You are the key I need to escape this place.”

  “Key?” I looked down at myself. “I’m pretty sure I don’t fit in any lock.” More like people inserted things into me, not the other way around, but I wasn’t abou
t to mention that to the freaky, redheaded dude.

  “On the contrary, you are the thing I’ve been searching for.”

  “Does this mean you’re the one who has been possessing people?”

  “Not me.” His face crinkled with disgust. “Even if ruling in disgrace, I do have some standards. My minions, on the other hand, have been taking over and driving the human bodies we’ve appropriated until they break. Invariably, all you weak humans break, even with proper feeding. You can’t contain our mighty essences for long. But your blood will change that.”

  “My blood isn’t special. It’s not even rare.” Not that I did my civic duty and donated often. Meemaw felt very strongly about blood banks, and so I abstained.

  “On the contrary, your blood is very special. Or did you not pay attention? You are a blend of daemon and human.” He gave it an odd inflection.

  “I am not a demon.”

  “Not a full-blooded one. Just a quarter-breed, and found by the luckiest of chances. And to think you almost fed one of my minions.”

  “Who?” And yet, I could guess. Who but Mrs. Peabody had eyed me with such strange hunger?

  “It matters not how you came to me, the fact of the matter is that you are mine to use now. Your essence, while diluted, should be exactly what I need to survive outside this plane of existence. If I imbibe enough of it, enough to change my own blood, I shall be able to cross to your world without needing the body of another.”

  Of all the things this handsome—yet apparently not human—man told me, one thing stood out, and it wasn’t the fact that he wanted my blood to invade Earth.

  Meemaw’s a demon!

  Holy shit. That probably explained her gruff personality and the fact that we’d never had a pet. But given that she even lived outside Hell meant she’d siphoned someone’s blood first.

  Someone like me.

  “Put out your hand.”

  I tucked my arms behind my back. “Hold on a second. Let’s not be hasty. I mean, how do you know it’s even good enough?”

  “I can smell it.”

  Again, totally gross. “Can’t you get it from somewhere else?”

  “If I could, I wouldn’t need you. Hold her still,” he ordered.

  The big brute who’d answered the door grabbed me tightly, and I could only watch as a slimmer demon, his skin a grayish green, his eyes drooping in his sagging face, approached, a knife in one hand.