by Lena North
“It talks to me.”
“Yup. You won’t ever lose your keys.”
“You told him?” I asked Joel and Elsa.
They shook their heads.
“They didn’t tell me anything,” Rafael said. “But, Kitty? Someone like you is someone who loses her keys.”
Okay, yeah. I totally was and had misplaced fourteen keys so far in my life, but I didn’t want him to know that. Then a scent hit my nostrils, and I closed my eyes.
“Hibiscus?”
Double-shit. My mother, stepfather, and four sisters were standing behind me.
“Mother,” I said, pasted a smile on my face and turned. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” the Az asked.
“Having dinner?” I asked back.
“Fuchsia,” Joel said, suddenly standing at my side. “Hello.”
Elsa was there too, but then I heard my sisters’ breaths become choppy, and knew Rafael had joined us. Introductions were made, although the way both my sisters and mother giggled when they shook hands with Rafael upset Az, so he snapped his fingers at a waitress, and demanded to be shown to their table.
The waitress pointed at the table we were standing next to and kept moving without a word. I couldn’t blame her and wondered if I should snap my own fingers in the Az’ face.
“Right,” I said instead. “Well, you go ahead and have a nice dinner.”
“Of course,” the Az said, and turned his back to me, but murmured over his shoulder, “We will not pay your bill.”
“This place is expensive,” Mom added. “Please make sure you check the prices before you ord –”
“Go away,” Rafael cut in calmly, and she turned, walked around the table and sat down with a look of complete astonishment on her face.
“They forgot your birthday again,” Elsa sighed.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, which was a huge lie.
“Retribution,” Joel said calmly and moved his fingertip away from his phone.
“What did you do?”
He just smirked, and then our food was brought in.
We’d finished our meal and was about to leave when I found out that I had the best friend in the whole world. I also had the craziest friend, which in reality was the same.
“Excuse me,” the waitress said to the Az, and she was apparently still unhappy with him because she didn’t keep her voice down much. “Do you have another card, Sir? The one you gave me seems to be blocked.”
Five cards later, the Az was fuming.
Mom handed the waitress one of her cards, and five minutes later, the girl came back with a strange look on her face.
“Um, excuse me, Ma’am,” she said. “There is a problem with your card too.”
“It can’t be blocked too,” Mom said haughtily.
“No,” the waitress said. “But the name printed on the card doesn’t match the one in the systems, so it won’t go through in our machine.”
“My name is Fuchsia de Chamontelette-Azdjakzian, which is the name on the card,” Mom said rather loudly.
“Except…” the waitress said. “Your first name is spelled differently in the system.”
“Differently?”
“The H seems to somehow have been replaced with a K.”
My eyes slid to the side to watch Joel’s carefully blank face, and I’d never loved him more than in that exact moment when I realized that he’d changed my mother’s name to Fucksia.
Chapter Sixteen
My pal, Al
For the first time in many years, my mother tried to visit Nowhere. The ravens told on her, so Janie was waiting in the middle of the road at the town limits. Mom chucked the fastest u-ey anyone in the area had ever seen, and the gossip-mill claimed that a cloud of gray smoke had been seen behind her car as she sped away. Janie had been partially in her bear shape, and I knew how menacing the pale, yellow glitter in a bear’s eyes could be, so my mother’s hasty retreat was in no way a surprise.
Joel had altered the spelling of my mother’s name in more systems than the bank’s, it seemed. He’d changed it in every single place in any computer system where my mother’s name existed.
She’d consequently paid a widget-consultant a shitload of money to sort it out. It would be changed back, but since the widget she'd hired happened to be Joel’s half-brother Louis, it would take eight weeks until the correction was in effect. Until then, Fuchsia would have to spell out her name with the K everywhere and pretend she didn’t notice how everyone – and I do mean everyone – was trying not to laugh at her. She’d arrived in Nowhere eager to yell at me, which wouldn’t have helped, and probably to yell even more at Joel who was visiting my parents for a few days as a safety precaution.
Janie had baked a cake for Joel, and Dad had patted him so hard on his back he bumped into a wall and got a black eye.
Elsa was visiting too, which wasn’t needed but she wanted to, and my father immediately said yes because he was even sillier than the biker-brethren when it came to her. When she glanced up at him and blinked slowly, he was immediately reduced to a smiling fool. This was a pretty ridiculous look for a werewolf, so Janie had laughed loudly while she put sheets in their second guestroom.
“I told you,” Grandma squealed when we were gathered on the porch. “This is just like summer camp.”
“With vodka,” I added, and raised my glass in a silent toast.
My parents were attending a town hall meeting, Grandpa Hunter was participating in what he’d labeled, “A life or death Parcheesi tournament,” and my brothers were helping Jackson install a new kitchen. The second Dad’s truck disappeared up the road, Grandma had pulled out a bottle of vodka from under her deck chair and added liberal amounts to whatever we had in our glasses, and we’d been on the porch for a while, which meant that my observation was delivered with a slight slur in my voice. I was also feeling mellow.
“I love you. I really, really do, and I should have told you a long time ago,” I said to Joel.
Elsa murmured a soft, “Awww,” and Grandma echoed the sappy sound.
Joel’s face softened for a second, but then he smiled his usual shiteater grin.
“I’ve saved that stunt for a long time, Kitty. Thought about it already back in high school but wanted to use it when it mattered. You matter.”
He shrugged, and I squeezed his hand.
“Thank you.”
“I hate them,” Elsa said calmly and nodded when Grandma offered her more vodka. “I know you said you don’t have time, but I really wish we could find that stupid amulet.”
“Yes,” Grandma said gleefully. “We could shove it up Aïdan’s butthole.”
I blinked.
“Or else we could just collect the million dollars he promised Kitty if she found it,” Joel said calmly.
“That would work too,” Grandma said, nodding sagely, albeit wobbly.
“Okay,” I said against my better judgment. “Let’s do it.”
“I’ll scan police records and see if there’s something of use,” Joel said.
“Yay,” Elsa murmured. “I’ll investigate whilst pretending that I’m working. Might keep me awake for once.”
“I thought you liked the library.”
“Liked,” she agreed. “Past tense. It got boring, and I don’t shush very well, so my boss hates me. Since the bikers started coming there, it’s gotten more interesting, but it’s still just like bad sex.”
Huh?
“I’ve had plenty of that, and I still don’t understand,” Grandma Hazel shared.
Yikes. Way too much information.
“We hand out books, and people return books,” Elsa said. “It’s just in and out and nothing else. Like bad sex.”
Ah. She did have a point.
“Hey,” a deep voice said, and I turned slowly.
What was it with Jackson and showing up unannounced? Or showing up at all.
“Vodka?” Grandma asked and wiggled the bottle which was mostly e
mpty.
“On call,” Jack retorted with a grimace and a negative headshake. “What are you talking about?”
“Bad sex,” Joel answered, and I kicked his shin.
My brothers laughed, as expected.
“Boys,” Grandma murmured. “Bad sex is not something to laugh about. I’ve had it, so I know.”
Ha. Their laughter turned into nervous giggles which faded away quickly.
“Jackson looks like someone who gives good sex. You should ask him for advice,” Elsa told the triplets lazily, and drunkenly.
I kicked her too, mostly because I did not want to think about what kind of sex Jackson engaged in.
“I do,” Jack said calmly. “Not sharing my secrets, though. Ask your dad.”
“Stop,” I yelled. “I can’t have this conversation, so we’re changing the topic right now. Let’s talk about Grandpa Hunter instead. What’s going on with him?”
No one knew, but it turned out that we all worried.
***
“You’re a wizard,” Benny slurred.
“No,” I protested. “I’m half which, though.”
“Found my ex with a troll. Found a manbag for the snooty angel. Found a dog. Found Archie’s ring with the hookers. You can find anything.”
Huh. He had a point. For someone who was such an expert at losing shit, I’d been pretty ding-darned successful at locating all kinds of things lately.
“I need help,” he said, and leaned forward, so I had to rear back in order to stay sober.
His divorce was final, and he’d celebrated for three days straight so his breath would easily intoxicate a small swarm of mosquitos.
“Okay,” I said, poured him a cup of coffee and slammed it into the bar with a stern look.
“I can’t locate…” He leaned forward until his torso was resting fully on the counter. “My glasses.”
I stared at him.
“They’re on your head,” I said and pointed to emphasize what I’d just said.
“Wizard!” he shouted and stretched his arms out as if he wanted to hug me which wasn’t going to happen, and also made it look like he was trying to do the breaststroke over the bar.
Wee-the-weasel appeared from nowhere to take a firm hold of Benny’s shirt and belt and haul him backward until he was back on his feet. The happy man wobbled off and started dancing on a completely empty dance floor, proving that white men should never try to wiggle their hips to any kind of music and definitely not to R&B.
“Jaeger,” Wee grunted, and added, “Damned foxes.”
I assumed he meant Benny, who was one, decided to ignore it and poured him a shot.
“I’m gonna look for the amulet after all,” I said.
He’d been in the process of downing the shot, but my comment apparently surprised him because he missed his mouth by a couple of inches and splashed Jaegermeister over his face.
I handed him a pile of napkins and poured him another drink.
“Thanks,” he said, watched me carefully as he tossed the disgusting liquor back and added, “You just go ahead and try to find it, darlin’.”
Then he grinned, and it widened into a smile which became laughter when Al joined us.
“Good luck,” Wee chuckled and joined his weasel-brethren at a table.
“I’m sorry,” Al said contritely. “I didn’t help as much as I could have with the ring gig.”
The ring gig?
“We found it,” I said, reached into my back pocket and handed him his share of the reward. “Your share.”
He stared at the money and pushed it back over the counter toward me.
“No. I feel bad about how I handled it. Save this for yourself and let me in on the next thing instead.”
“Nothing to feel bad about,” I said, and went on to explain what had happened at Pussy-Pussy-Pussy.
He was grinning widely when I’d finished describing my grandmother’s stun gun skills and told me that he would be my assistant for free if I let him tag along while I searched for whatever we were searching for next.
“It could mean visiting a bordello,” I warned him.
“Yeah,” he sighed happily. “I’m pretty sure my woman wouldn’t like that, but if I explained in a way that made sure she never knew about it, she'd be fine with it.”
It took me a second to get what he was saying, and then I grinned too.
“Your woman?” I asked.
He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of an absolutely stunning lady. She clearly had Indian heritage, and her wavy dark hair looked like something out of a magazine. He flicked to another picture which showed the gorgeous woman with a teenager who had to be her daughter. She was super cute.
“Your kid?”
“Yeah. She has a father somewhere too, though.”
Okay, I didn’t get that and decided to not open that can of worms.
“What are we looking at?” Silenus asked.
Al showed him the picture, explained who it was, and Silenus stared in stunned silence at the screen.
“How in the hell did you manage to score with someone like her?” he asked which was a very, very relevant question.
Al was nice, and his cheerful optimism was growing on me, but he was a regular guy. This woman was not a regular woman.
“She likes my Oreo,” Al said with a shrug.
Al had an Oreo? Just one, or a whole package? Or… please, God, I begged silently. Please don’t let this be a euphemism for his private parts. I did not need to hear any kind of details about his penis.
There was a commotion by the door and judging from the oohs, aahs, and sighs, Joel and Elsa had just walked in.
“What are you looking at?” Joel asked.
“Al’s woman,” Silenus answered, nudged the phone around toward them, and when Joel’s eyes widened, he clarified, “She likes his Oreo.”
“Oreo?” Joel asked.
“You know,” Al said. “Like, my Chaka Khan?”
Chaka Khan? The woman could sing the shit out of anyone but what she had to do with Al was beyond me. It was beyond the others too, if the confusion on their faces was any indication, but then Elsa suddenly smirked.
“Does she do yoga?” she asked.
“All the time,” Al said. “She’s very bendy.”
Then he blushed in a way I didn’t want to delve into, but Elsa nodded.
“He means aura,” Elsa explained. “And chakras.”
“That’s what I said,” Al said.
It hadn’t been, but I wasn’t going to argue with him because I’d just realized how my assistant could be of actual assistance.
Al could go undercover and infiltrate Grandpa Hunter’s band of brothers to figure out what the hell they were up to.
Chapter Seventeen
Free pass
Al was gung-ho about going undercover. I knew this because he told me, and he told me using the actual phrase gung-ho, which was an indication that he was way more middle-aged than I hoped I’d ever become.
“You won’t be disappointed,” he said gravely. “I will go so deep undercover you won’t recognize me. I’ll develop a persona that matches theirs. Act like them.”
Oh, God. Al in a speedo. Just… no.
“Okay,” I said. “No need to go overboard. Just meet Gramps, ask him a few questions, that’s all.”
“Exactly. I’ll infiltrate the brotherhood, gather evidence of their activities and report back asap.”
Uh. I had created a monster, it seemed, but it was too late to do anything about it because we had arrived at my parents’ house in Nowhere.
Grandma Hazel sat on the porch swing and read a book.
“Yoo-hoo,” she called out, threw the book over her shoulder and got up to greet us. “Who might this be?”
“A friend of mine,” I said, and turned toward Al to add, “This is my grandmother.”
“I’m Hazel,” Grandma said. “I usually don’t date middle-aged gentlemen, but I could make an exception for you
. I like your tattoos.”
“He’s taken,” I said quickly and pushed a suddenly reluctant Al forward.
“Of course,” Grandma Hazel said. “What’s your name?”
“I can call you Betty,” Al said.
I rolled my eyes with a sigh.
Here we go again.
“Ooh, clever,” Grandma said without missing a beat. “Come on Al, let’s get you something to drink. Kitty’s grandfather is inside, you’ll like him, he’s nuts.”
I wasn’t sure why the nutty part of Grandpa Hunter would appeal to a regular as regular as Al, but I didn’t get a chance to question her judgment because Dad, Janie, and Grandpa walked through the door.
“Huh,” Dad grunted and surveyed Al with lowered brows. “Who are you?”
Al swallowed.
“Hello,” he said nervously when no one said anything. “I can call you Betty.”
“Not if you want to live,” Dad snorted, but Janie giggled.
“Funny,” she said. “Hey, Al. I’m Janie, this is Biff and,” she indicated gramps, “Hunter.”
I bugged my eyes out at Dad, relishing the fact that someone had pulled a dad-joke on the king of dad-jokes, and he hadn’t gotten it. This did not make my father happy.
“Which Clint Eastwood movie is your favorite?” he asked Al, trying to regain ground.
“None.”
The silence was suddenly thick. Like, jello-thick and not in a happy jello-shot way. It was more an I’m gonna slit your gut wide open and feast on your intestines way.
“You don’t like the Clint?” Dad asked menacingly.
I tried to pull Al backward in case Dad decided to maul him, but he held his ground.
“No, I don’t.”
Dad pushed out air with a wheezing sound that I’d never heard him make before.
“I knew I’d like you,” Grandma Hazel squealed. “I don’t like the Clint either.”
Dad’s head whipped around, and he glared at her.
“Hazel,” he said warningly.
“Well, I don’t. His movies are boring, and he isn’t even sexy.”
“Hazel,” Janie said warningly.
“He isn’t,” Grandma insisted. “Do you think he’s sexy?”
Janie’s mouth fell open, and her eyes flitted toward Dad and back to Grandma. Then she winced. Dad pushed out another hoarse sound.