Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6)

by Naquin, R. L.

  Silas belched. “That’s pretty harsh, even to me.”

  I frowned at him, annoyed. “I checked earlier, but I didn’t get anything. I’m not psychic, you know. I can only read emotions—and only strong ones, at that. The more uncomfortable or frightened they are, the more likely it’ll be that I can sense them. Even hunger will help.”

  It made me queasy having to resort to such measures. I sure as hell didn’t want the kids to be scared or upset, especially not enough to send me a strong signal. I would have given anything at that moment to be genuinely psychic instead of relying on emotions to tell me things. Concrete information would have been far more welcome.

  Mom patted my arm. “No need to explain, honey. We’re all doing our best.” She refilled Silas’s empty cup and set a napkin next to it, even though she couldn’t see him. Mom probably had it a lot rougher than I did. I was a bossy-pants these days commanding the troops, and I had a skill that could at least be used to help search. Mom’s skill was to help people on the edge of death.

  I couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her to spend all her time on standby, waiting for someone to be dying. She really came through for us when Miles had been in anaphylactic shock, but that wasn’t the norm. When people died around me lately, they did it pretty damn fast with no time to call in a necrofoil to save them.

  What I hadn’t appreciated was how good she was at taking care of people—how kind she was. She couldn’t see or hear Silas, yet she noticed his cup was empty and knew he needed a napkin. I was used to Maurice anticipating my need to be fed, tidying up after me and sometimes doing my laundry when I got busy. But it was Mom who always seemed to show up when I was aggravated or needed a kind word.

  She was an Aegis, too. Just as my being an empath wasn’t what made me an Aegis, being a necrofoil wasn’t what made her one. She was every bit the Aegis I was—maybe more so. Rather than competing with her, I should’ve been learning from her over the last year. She could still teach me so much.

  I took a gulp of my strawberry lemonade and set the cup down. “All right. I’m going to give it a try.”

  I took a deep, cleansing breath and went inside myself. The walls to my protective fortress were strong—triple reinforced. Carefully knocking out a few bricks, I created a hole. Most of the time, widening the filters I had in place would be enough, but this was important. I needed to open myself completely, in case the kids weren’t in the immediate vicinity.

  I reached outside myself. The people around me sat in silence, and I tried to brush past them as quickly as possible so I didn’t eavesdrop on their emotions, but I couldn’t help getting an unintentional glimpse.

  Silas was hungry, of course, but I also sensed gratitude. Most of what he said and did was bluster—but this wasn’t news. I’d figured that out a long time ago.

  Maurice sent waves of worry outward as he puttered around, building a campfire. Mom was a little calmer, but her worry had an aftertaste of guilt I didn’t understand. I’d ask her about it later, except that I’d acquired the knowledge through my empathic connection. Information about family and friends gained that way was off limits for discussion. I refused to pry.

  I probed outward and felt Molly and Tashi’s terror for their missing children and apprehension over keeping their remaining kids safe. A little farther out, and I found Nick and Mari, miserable. Grief echoed through the forest from three mothers and two fathers. My eyes welled with tears, and I pushed past them.

  Riley. Kam. Darius. Sara. Gris. Phil. I felt their weariness and determination as they trekked over the same ground they’d already searched three times, desperate for even the tiniest missed clue.

  I pushed on, spreading my mental feelers wider, ignoring neighbors and a couple walking their dog on the nearby beach.

  Nothing. Unless the kids were drugged—and I had no reason to believe Shadow Man would do that—they weren’t anywhere within a ten-mile radius. Sadness—my own emotion, not borrowed from someone else—filled my heart, and I pulled back from the search, rebuilt my protective wall and opened my eyes.

  Three anxious faces watched me.

  Mom squeezed my hand. “Anything?”

  “I’m afraid not.” I hated the feeling of helplessness that weighed on my shoulders like a wet towel. “We need to call everybody in. They’re wasting their time, and they really need to eat.”

  Maurice nodded and took out his phone. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Mom slid a cup of migraine tea between my hands as the first twinge hit behind my eyes. I smiled in gratitude and took a sip. Opening myself up like that usually gave me a killer headache. Without Andrew’s miracle tea, the headache could last days or weeks.

  People wandered in one at a time, grabbed a sandwich and a cup of coffee or a glass of lemonade. They were all disheartened to hear that I’d found nothing and that I was pretty certain the kids weren’t within range of our search.

  Riley kissed my cheek and took a seat next to me with his sandwich. “How’s your head?”

  I took another sip from my mug. “The headache is pulling back. The heartsick feeling of helplessness—that’s sticking around.”

  Riley took a slow bite, nodding in agreement after he swallowed. “I don’t know what else we can do. But I’ll keep looking.” He put his arm around me in a half hug. “We’ll find them.”

  I sank into him, allowing myself a brief pause to be comforted. “I don’t know what to do, either. It’s not like we can call the police and report a missing person. ‘Hi. We’re missing three kids. Description? Sure, sure. Just keep your eyes open for fairy-tale creatures. If you find any kids who don’t look human, they’re probably ours.’ Sure. I’m certain the police will get right on that.”

  The headache pulsed with my frustration, so I took another gulp of tea. The pulsing died down, but the frustration remained.

  Kam joined us from the side of the house and took a seat around the fire Maurice was poking with a stick. She leaned close to the plate of sandwiches, peering at them from eye level, then sat back without taking one. “This is a tough neighborhood,” she said. “People do not like it when you stand on their roofs.”

  I stared at her. “Good grief, Kam. What were you doing on my neighbors’ roof?”

  She snagged a bag of pistachios from the picnic table and pried the shell off a nut. “Getting a better view. Duh. That Mrs. Sorrenson is a real crankypants.”

  I couldn’t disagree with that. Mrs. Sorrenson had yelled at me a time or two, and I’d been nowhere near her roof.

  Darius and Sara came in last, looking disheartened. Neither of them said a word.

  “So.” Kam tossed pistachio shells into the fire. “What’s our next move, boss?”

  I tapped my fingers against the side of my cup while I thought about it. “Searching’s not helping. He could have put them anywhere. Guarding the rest of the kids needs to be a top priority for the moment, but I have to admit, I’m worried it won’t work.”

  Darius’s voice was low and rumbling. “You think we can’t stop what we can’t see.”

  “Exactly.” I shivered and leaned closer to the fire. “If only Mom and I can see him, how can any of us stop him?”

  Silas raised his eyebrows. “He can control who sees him?”

  I blinked at the pooka. That was it. That was the thing that had been poking at me a few days earlier—the thing I couldn’t quite put together. Shadow Man’s power to keep everyone else from seeing him while he flashed his face at me was similar to the power Silas had. “Yes. Only Mom and I see him.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. Riley looked right at him through the window and didn’t see him. Kam did, too.”

  Silas shifted his weight in his chair, his features animated with excitement. “Have you and your mother both seen him at the same time?”


  I frowned. “I don’t think so.” I looked to Mom for confirmation, and she shook her head.

  Silas grinned. “That’s the first good news I’ve heard. I think I know how I can help.”

  * * *

  Silas was the new night watchman. The others still watched, but he was the only one who could see. Because of their similar powers, Silas would be able to see Shadow Man as he moved around the property. The beautiful part was that Shadow Man couldn’t see Silas. Had he been aware of Silas’s existence, he’d have been able to see him, but until then, Silas remained in stealth mode. At least, that was the theory.

  This clued us in to a secondary bonus. Maurice had never been in the right place before when Shadow Man turned up. That, we surmised, was probably because Shadow Man knew Maurice would be able to see him, what with his crazy-big closet-monster eyes. And lastly, my reaper fiancé would only need to touch the soul stone in his ring once while looking where Shadow Man was to be able to see him permanently.

  We took down the blanket over my bedroom window as soon as we figured that out. I was willing to risk a terrifying face in the window if it meant Riley would be able to flip a mental switch and be able to see it with me.

  None of this made the current problems go away—we still had three kids missing and several more in danger. But it was a step toward switching from prey to hunter if more of us could see what we were hunting.

  Of course, nothing happened that night. Maurice and Silas didn’t see Shadow Man, and he never showed up at my window. Because that was how luck went sometimes. Even with big chunks of gargoyle snot in our pockets, we couldn’t catch a break. In fact, I had to remind myself that the good luck of the snot cancelled out the bad luck of the pooka. It didn’t actually give us good luck—it only neutralized bad luck.

  This was proved to me the next morning by the knock on the front door.

  I swung the door open, bleary-eyed and squinting at the rising sun. “Mmph?”

  Three small but happy caramel-colored faces beamed up at me.

  “Good morning, Zoey!” the tallest of the three said.

  I blinked to clear my eyes, recognized the three goblins standing there and groaned. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

  Rene’s smile faded. “We thought you’d be happy to see us.” She glanced down at her two children, Janey and Toby, each with a small backpack strapped to them. “We should have called first. You’re busy. I’m so sorry.”

  “No!” I swooped in and grabbed all three of them in a bear hug. “You can’t go. You just took me by surprise.” I scanned the yard as I ushered them in, hoping they hadn’t been seen.

  Once the door was closed, I felt a little more secure, but not much. The absolute last thing we needed right now was more kids for Shadow Man to steal. I loved these two quirky kids so much it hurt my heart to think of them in potential danger. After their parents had gone missing a while back, the two of them had shown incredible bravery and intelligence and had traveled alone across half the country to come to me for help. I had seriously considered adopting them if we didn’t find their parents. It didn’t turn out to be necessary, since we’d rescued Rene—unfortunately, their dad hadn’t made it—so I never had to make that decision.

  Having them here again made my heart fill with happiness and my knees go weak with terror.

  I took them into the kitchen and poured the kids glasses of milk.

  “Did you walk all the way from the Ozarks again?” I asked as I set out cups and creamer for Rene and me to have coffee.

  “We rode the rails like hobos!” Toby said, his feet swinging under his chair. The milkstache on his face was so adorable, I had to stop myself from smothering him with kisses. Seriously, the kid left me helpless.

  Janey wiped her mouth on her sleeve when she saw her younger brother’s face. She was far too grown up for such things. “Toby, don’t be dumb. Momma paid for our tickets. Didn’t you, Momma?”

  Rene smiled and poured creamer in her cup. “I paid the nice troll to let us sleep in the luggage car. So, yes. In a manner of speaking, we paid for tickets.”

  Janey sniffed in Toby’s general direction and shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose, satisfied that she’d been right.

  Maurice walked into the kitchen as I opened the first cupboard in search of sugary cereal to feed the kids.

  “No.” His eyes grew huge. “No, no, no. You can’t be here.” He smacked his palm against his forehead, then leaned down and gave Rene a hug.

  Rene looked alarmed. “That was Zoey’s reaction, too.”

  Maurice waved away her concern. “It’s not the best time, no, but you’re always welcome.” He saw what I was doing, scowled at me and closed the cupboard door I was holding open. “Go sit down before you burn something.”

  Maurice whipped up ricotta-and-blueberry pancakes shaped like teddy bears while I told Rene what was going on. I considered taking her to another room so the kids wouldn’t get scared but decided those two kids had seen so many terrifying, horrible things in their short lives, treating them like delicate flowers would be an insult.

  Rene’s reaction wasn’t the horrified, frantic response I’d expected. Her face was thoughtful as she unfolded her napkin and spread it across her lap. “It seems to me that this Shadow Man is a danger to us no matter where we are. If we’re going to be at risk, this is the safest place to be, even without a fairy ring.” She smiled up at me, radiating faith. “You’ll save us all, Zoey. You always do.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rene was right. My house was the safest place for the kids. I sure as hell wasn’t going to put them out back in a tent, under the circumstances. And since we were keeping close watch on the goblin kids, I sent Sara over to convince Molly and her family to move in, too. The linen closet they’d stayed in a while back still had Barbie furniture set up in case they slept over.

  If nothing else, I needed them with us for my own peace of mind. The other end of my backyard where their mushroom house sat seemed like a million miles away—too far to protect them.

  Maurice set up the goblins in the guestroom where Kam usually slept. She didn’t need it anyway, since she’d been keeping watch at Mom’s and took naps at the cottage during the day.

  And Gris, who didn’t require sleep at all, was made the official child minder. He volunteered to guard them twenty-four hours a day until the danger passed.

  The only child we couldn’t keep our eyes on was Tashi’s baby, Edie. Iris had been against coming inside the house when he was alive, and Tashi was no different. Skunk-apes and yeti didn’t like enclosed walls. Besides, she hadn’t set the baby down since Dasho had been stolen. Shadow Man might be stealthy enough to swipe one baby from under her nose, but he’d never get another chance. He’d have to confront her head-on if he wanted to get to Edie.

  And even if he could match an angry mama-yeti, the gargoyle standing watch next to her would be tough to beat. Phil refused to leave her side.

  It took forever to get everyone settled and off to sleep that night. Janey and Fred played cards—Maurice held Fred’s cards for him, yet remained heroically impartial—and Toby and Abby drew pictures and chatted about kid’s stuff like bugs, spit bubbles and farts.

  I sat in the living room, cradled in Riley’s arms, watching the four kids, a closet monster, a goblin and my demon best friend huddled around my kitchen table, with a golem keeping guard over them nearby.

  As worried as I was about the missing kids, Shadow Man and our entire future, it felt good to take a minute and bask in the comfortable hominess of the moment.

  Abby squealed with laughter over something Toby said, and Fred threw his small arms in the air while yelling “Gin!” My eyelids grew heavy, but I shook my head to clear it. I didn’t want to miss a second.

  Around midnight, Molly and Walter emerged from the linen closet and hopped
up on the kitchen table.

  “Time for bed, my darlings.” I couldn’t see her tiny face from all the way in the living room, but she sounded long past tired and into bone-weary. Frankly, I didn’t know how she was even upright, considering everything that had happened. Plus, she had a toddler. Susannah wasn’t even a year old yet, and she was already a handful.

  All four kids groaned in unison.

  “No, she’s right,” Rene said. “Come on. Everybody up. Brush your teeth. It’s hours past late.”

  The brownie kids hopped off the table and headed down the hall with the small goblins dragging their feet behind.

  I tried not to laugh. “Their attitudes say ‘Let us stay up all night,’ but their eyes say ‘For the love of Pete, where are my jammies?’”

  The two moms chuckled, then conversed together in quiet voices for a moment. When they separated, Molly called the kids back before they disappeared into the bathroom. “If you promise to go straight to sleep, you can all sleep together.”

  The rejoicing coming from the hallway was comical, but it tapered off faster than I expected. The kids were too pooped out for much celebration.

  Walter jumped onto the coffee table. “We thought it would be easier on Gris to keep an eye on them all together. Is that all right, Aegis?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up at me as if I might veto the whole thing. Dark circles ringed his eyes.

  Walter hadn’t been my favorite person when I’d first met him. He’d been drinking, and I’d already taken in his wife and kids because he’d been violent with them. That first meeting hadn’t gone well. He was lucky I hadn’t flicked him across the beach.

  Losing his family had been an eye opener, and he’d gotten help. After he stopped drinking, it took a long time before Molly would even speak with him. It took an even longer time before she trusted him to be around the kids, especially once she found out she was pregnant.

  Walter won back his family, but it had been a struggle. Baby Susannah was three months old before Molly finally let him move back in with her and the kids. I was proud of the way he’d changed, but I was more in awe of Molly. If it had been me, I’d have dumped his ass and never looked back. But Molly saw something worthwhile in him. She refused to be a victim or put her kids in danger, but she refused to give up on the man she knew was inside.