by K E O'Connor
“Wiggles, is that you?” I might be picking up on his smell. On a bad day, Wiggles carried the aroma of demon with him.
There was no response from Wiggles.
I moved cautiously through the forest, unclipping my demon bag from my belt. If I was about to be jumped by a demon with flaming hands, I needed to make sure I captured him on the first attempt. There was no way I’d end up like Bastille.
I spotted more green goo on the ground. This looked fresher, and another large blob sat on top of a rock. I hurried over and touched it. The demon had been here recently.
And, if they were leaving fresh blobs of demon goo as they moved, they must be injured. Demons didn’t bleed the same way as anyone else. They oozed a sludge-like substance from their veins. Sometimes, it burned if you got any on your skin. Mostly, it just stank.
I kept my attention on the ground as I looked for more goo. If I followed the goo trail, I’d find the demon. And if I found the demon, I’d find Bastille’s killer.
I gasped as a web of sticky netting enveloped me. I twisted, feeling the invisible webbing clutch me and dig into my skin. I sucked in a breath, and the webbing slid into my mouth and down my throat, choking me.
Twisting and straining, my heart raced as I struggled to breathe. I needed to get free, but the webbing held fast. This was not demon power enveloping me.
I tried a freeze spell, turning my palms and blasting the spell against the magic that trapped me. The webbing held fast.
My panicked brain went into overdrive. If some enormous, creepy spider with poisonous fangs came to eat me, I would not be happy.
Frank’s power curled up my spine as he sensed the danger, but he seemed in no hurry to offer assistance. “It seems you’re having a little trouble.”
“Nice of you to notice.” I spoke to him inside my head.
“You’re tied up.”
“Again, well spotted. What is this stuff?”
“It has the tang of binding magic. You might like to hurry. It’s set to explode.”
My eyes bugged. No way was I going to die thanks to gross, sticky, exploding webbing. That would look great on my gravestone. Here lies Tempest Crypt, renowned demon hunter. Killed by sticky webbing. What a loser.
The webbing around me grew warm as the magic strengthened.
“You want fire, I’ll give you fire!” I blasted a jet of flames from my hands.
The webbing ignited around me and flamed into the sky, singeing my hair as it did so.
My spell worked. The binding magic broke, and I was free to move.
“Congratulations, witch. You live to fight another day.” Frank’s energy ebbed down my spine as his voice faded.
I snorted in response as I pulled strands of webbing out of my mouth. He must have surfaced because he was worried his free ride was about to combust. Selfish demon.
Grimacing, I tried to brush off lank strands of gray webbing that clung to my clothing. What was going on? Someone had booby trapped the forest.
After getting my breath back, I soon spotted more green goo and picked up the trail, keeping one eye on the goo and the other on any more magic traps.
Maybe a demon had crept into Willow Tree Falls without anyone noticing. This might be a case of Bastille being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She stumbled across the demon, and it destroyed her. But that didn’t explain why she was outside so late on her own.
I grimaced as my boot landed in a puddle of green goo. Seeing this much goo, it suggested the demon was badly injured. Bastille could have gotten in a few good shots before she was taken down.
I hoped that was true. I hoped she’d fought like a warrior and made this demon regret ever meeting her. Bastille hadn’t deserved to die. When I found this demon, I wanted to find it hurting and sorry. It wouldn’t bring Bastille back, but it would give me comfort knowing she didn’t give up without a fight.
I followed the goo trail for another twenty minutes, drawing ever closer to the swamp in the forest. It wasn’t my favorite place. And it wasn’t so long ago that I’d rescued Rhett and Axel from unpleasant deaths when they’d been buried near the swamp.
My boots squelched through sticky mud as I continued my hunt for the injured demon.
I tilted my head. The birds had stopped singing again.
I tensed, half expecting more arrows to fly at my head.
An icy wind blasted past me, and a glimmer of movement made me flinch and duck.
The sound of an enraged warrior’s scream filled the air, and a foot brushed past my head. “Back you horror. You foul beast. You dare to invade my forest with your twisted magic.”
I knew that voice. It was Fallon, the wood nymph who protected the forest. I turned, but before I could speak, two feet slammed into my back, and I hit the ground face first.
“You desecrate this sacred place. You summon demons to harm what is most precious. You risk the safety of my forest to meet your demon lover.”
Demon lover? I spat out dirt and tried to roll over, but something sharp jabbed into the base of my spine. I froze.
“I’ll teach you not to come into my forest. Let this be a lesson to you.”
I sucked in a breath to shout an objection but was engulfed in a wave of foul, sticky green goo. It washed over me like a putrid wave. I could do nothing but close my eyes and pinch my lips shut as I waited for the goo torrent to subside.
Whatever had been jabbing into my back vanished. “Let that be a lesson to you, foul creature.”
I moved slowly, flipping onto my back and risking opening one eye a crack. “Fallon? What are you doing?”
There was a second of silence. “You know me, wretched beast?”
“Of course. And you know me.” I swiped the worst of the goo off my face and shook it off my hand. “It’s Tempest Crypt.”
“Oh! Tempest!” Fallon blinked at me and lowered the thin blade she held. “What are you doing summoning demons?”
I pulled myself into a seated position. “I’m not summoning anything. I came here to see if there’s a demon loose.”
“In my forest?” Fallon shook her head, her dark eyes narrowed. “I’d never allow such a thing.”
“What about the green goo I keep finding? It’s all over the place. There’s a demon in here somewhere.”
Fallon laughed. “That was planted by me. Anyone too nosy for their own good gets lured into my traps. You follow the trail of goo to your doom.”
“Your traps? The arrows and sticky exploding web?”
“Oh, sure, that was all my doing. Isn’t it great?” Fallon tucked the blade into the belt around her moss green pants. “I upgraded the magic. I got sick of everyone coming into the forest and making a mess, causing noise, and stealing what doesn’t belong to them. Some people take acorns and rocks. Who wants those? What do you do with stolen rocks?”
I shook my head. “You could have killed me.”
“I know!” Fallon grinned. “It’s good stuff.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I’ll say that again. You could have killed me.”
“You look okay to me.” Fallon tilted her head. “You’re alive. Maybe I need more power in my spells.”
“No! No more magic.” I wiped goo off my pants. “Does Suki know what you’re up to? She’s not going to be pleased that you’ve got lethal magic lurking in the forest.”
“Suki’s too soft on forest visitors. She used to let anyone come in here and mess around. I had to chase out three lots of campers last week. I gave them quite a scare.” Fallon chuckled. “They won’t be back.”
“The forest is for everyone,” I said. “You can’t scare people away, even though campers can be annoying.”
“I’ll scare them out if they do daft things like try to summon a demon.” Fallon glared at me. “What made you do such a crazy thing?”
I rested my hands on my knees. “It was a drawing spell, not a summoning spell. There’s a big difference.”
Fallon sniffed. “They’re not so different.
You were encouraging a foul presence into my forest.”
I squinted at Fallon. “You haven’t heard about Bastille?”
“If she’s not in my forest, I won’t have heard about her. What’s she done?”
“She’s been murdered. Bastille was a friend of my Auntie Queenie. She was killed last night at the hotel. There’s a chance a demon’s involved. Bastille was choked to death by flaming hands.”
“Flaming hands! There’ll be no flaming hands in my forest. Think of the damage to the trees.” Fallon glared over my shoulder, her dark gaze flicking around as if trying to spot any demon sporting fire magic.
“This is a good place for a demon to hide,” I said. “There haven’t been reports of anything odd in the village, so I wondered if the demon was here.”
“There are no demons in this forest.” Fallon jammed her fists on her hips. “I can guarantee it.”
“Since you’ve got this place so tightly bound with magic, a demon wouldn’t last five minutes. I barely did.”
“You’ve got that right. Any demon who comes in here will soon regret it.”
“And you’ve had no unusual visitors? No malevolent presence creeping around that might be responsible for what happened to Bastille?”
“Not last night,” Fallon said. “You need to look elsewhere for this killer.”
I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. If there was no demon, it was back to interrogating old friends, women who’d been in my life since I was young.
Fallon stomped to the nearest path. “I can’t stand around chatting. You’ve set off my magic traps. I need to restock the arrows and sort out my webbing.”
“Explosive webbing is a bad idea.” I struggled to my feet, cold goo sliding down the back of my shirt.
Fallon cocked her head. “How did you break the magic?”
“I used fire.”
“Huh! Fire. I’ll need to sort that weakness.” Fallon walked off, muttering to herself.
I hurried to the path. “Hey, have you seen Wiggles?”
“No, but tell him I’ve got a saddle made. Whenever he’s ready, we can go for a ride.” Fallon raised a hand as she vanished into the dense trees.
I shook my head. There was no way Wiggles would let Fallon ride him. The first time they’d met, she thought he was a weird looking pony and tempted him with carrots so she could get on his back. Wiggles had been less than amused.
I scrubbed the worst of the goo off me with a handful of leaves. This mission had failed. There was no demon hiding in Willow Tree Falls, I was covered in goo, and Wiggles had done a disappearing act.
“Wiggles! Where are you?”
I walked around for twenty minutes calling for him, but he didn’t come.
I was exhausted, hungry, and frustrated. Wiggles knew his way home. I bet he’d found a rabbit hole or something nasty to eat and was using his selective hearing to focus on his own mission and ignore me.
This called for a time out and something to take my mind off this mess. I needed Mom’s home cooking.
Chapter 10
As I entered Mom’s house, I heard laughing and talking in the kitchen. I froze when I got to the kitchen doorway. Rhett sat at the table with a plate of sandwiches in front of him.
I glanced at my goo-stained clothing. This was never the look to go for when stumbling into your squeeze. “Hey! What are you doing here?”
Mom turned and smiled at me. “It was your auntie’s idea. She said we all needed cheering up after such a horrible morning. She bumped into Rhett when she went out and invited him to lunch.”
Rhett looked at me and shrugged, a sheepish look on his face. “I couldn’t say no. I know how good your mom’s food is.”
I swiped ineffectively at the goo on my shirt. “It’s good of you to come and cheer everyone up.”
He grinned. “I’m always happy to help.”
This was so humiliating. Mom and Auntie Queenie always interfered in my relationships.
“Having Rhett here has taken my mind off of Bastille,” Auntie Queenie said. “He’s such a charming young man. You picked the right one.”
Rhett raised his eyebrows at me as I sat at the table. “I was one of several choices?”
“Of course not.” Mom placed more sandwiches on the table. “You were always Tempest’s first choice.”
I wanted to hide. Instead, I grabbed a cheese and pickle sandwich. “I’ve been looking into what happened to Bastille.”
“Excellent. What have you found out?” Auntie Queenie asked.
“I’ve been in the forest, demon hunting.”
“Did you find one?” Auntie Queenie leaned forward. “You smell like you did.”
“No such luck. I encountered a wood nymph with an attitude and a liking for deadly magic.” I picked a piece of goo off my arm.
“So, no demon?” Auntie Queenie said mournfully.
“I wish I had found one, but Fallon saw no one in the forest. And other than the evidence she planted to lure me into her magic traps, there was nothing to suggest a demon is on the loose.”
“And demons have no self-control,” Mom said. “If there was a demon here, it would be drawn to people. It wouldn’t be able to resist the tempting smells from the café or bakery.”
“I have to agree,” I said. “I checked at Mystic Mushroom, but there was no sign of a demon. But before I went demon hunting, I talked to Samantha and Caprice.”
“What did the girls tell you?” Auntie Queenie asked.
“Nothing conclusive,” I said. “Caprice doesn’t have an alibi, as such. She was alone in her hotel room all night. She said she didn’t leave and went to sleep after the party.”
“That’s very possible,” Auntie Queenie said. “She was never one for late nights.”
I glanced at Auntie Queenie. “Caprice did point the finger at you as the killer because you argued with Bastille last night.”
“Typical Caprice, she always gets the wrong end of the stick,” Auntie Queenie said. “I always argued with Bastille, and we all know why, but it was never a serious argument. It proves nothing.”
“She also mentioned that Bastille had borrowed money from Samantha.”
“An unpaid debt would be a good reason for murder,” Mom said.
“That’s what I wondered, but when I asked Samantha about it, she wasn’t bothered about having the money back. In fact, she said she’d have given Bastille the money, but she insisted it was a loan.”
“Samantha loves to spend her husband’s money.” Auntie Queenie chuckled. “He looks like a warty toad who eats too much. It’s amazing how a heap of cash can make a toad look extremely sexy.”
“How much money did Samantha loan Bastille?” Rhett asked.
“I don’t know. The money was to pay for a medical bill,” I said.
“What’s wrong with her?” Rhett asked.
I looked at Auntie Queenie. “Any idea?”
“We’ve all known she’s been ill for a long time, but Bastille never liked to talk about it.” Auntie Queenie helped herself to a sandwich from Rhett’s plate. “She must have found a new treatment, and that was what the money was for.”
I nodded. “Another interesting thing Samantha told me was that Esmeralda left her room late last night. She disappeared for about an hour.”
“Who was Esmeralda sneaking off to see?” Auntie Queenie asked.
“Bastille?” I suggested. “It could explain why there was no sign of a struggle. Bastille wouldn’t think it odd her friend wanted to see her alone.”
“Didn’t they get along?” Rhett asked.
“They got along fine,” Auntie Queenie said. “There’s no reason for Esmeralda to be involved.”
I considered mentioning Samantha’s late-night rendezvous with Toby, but I wanted to check that out myself. I needed to find out just how friendly Toby still was with Samantha. I could check her alibi without letting everyone else know he was involved.
“If I had to wager, I’d be looking hard at Capri
ce for this murder,” Rhett said. “Her alibi is lousy. What magic ability does she have?”
Auntie Queenie scratched her chin, a doubtful look on her face. “She’s an elemental witch, specializing in fire. There are few who can beat her ability to control flame. The heat courses through her like blood. Flame is drawn to her.”
“Could Caprice control it so she flamed just her hands?” I asked. “She could have used fire when she choked Bastille to make it look like a demon attack. It’s certainly muddied the evidence and our focus. When the angels first discovered Bastille’s body, they were drawn to the idea of a demon attack.”
“Unless something’s happened between them that I don’t know about, Caprice wouldn’t want Bastille dead,” Auntie Queenie said.
“She should be at the top of your suspect list,” Mom said. “I like Caprice, but she has no alibi, and she has the ability to kill Bastille with fire, without injuring herself.”
“I still need to talk to Lila and Esmeralda,” I said. “I want their take on things, see if they heard anything odd last night. I’d have tried when I was at the hotel, but the angels threw me out.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Auntie Queenie said. “I’ve been in touch with the angels. Once they’ve interviewed everyone, we’re allowed to see each other. They’ll be done by the end of the day, and we’ve got a reservation at Bite Me at seven o’clock. Join us, and you can speak to Esmeralda and Lila then.”
“Are you sure the angels don’t mind you all meeting?” I could imagine how annoyed Dazielle would have been when Auntie Queenie announced a dinner date with all the murder suspects.
“Even if they do, it won’t stop us. It wasn’t any of us, so there’s no harm in meeting for a good natter over a few glasses of wine and some decent food.”
“Then I’ll be there.” I gazed at my untouched sandwich and sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Mom touched my hand. “Are you finding this hard?”
I nodded. “I can’t believe it’s anyone in this group, which means we’ve got a killer on the loose in Willow Tree Falls and no idea who it is.”
No one spoke for a moment.
Auntie Queenie finished her sandwich and smacked her lips together. “We can’t have that. I should get the gang back together. We’ll organize a hunt for this killer. No one hurts a member of my gang and gets away with it.”