Bedtime Fury Page 8

  “Did you have to bring the snake?” Sally asked. “He leaves scuff marks all over the floor.”

  “He wanted to stretch,” I said. “He gets bored cooped up in the same place all day.”

  “That’s because he’s a python,” Sally said. “He doesn’t belong as a house pet.”

  “Tell that to everyone else,” I said. I wasn’t in the mood to field their complaints against the other side of my family. I had more important business to attend to.

  “I saw on the calendar that the Day of Darkness is coming up,” my father said.

  “You remember?”

  “Of course I remember,” he said. “I had to buy those black streamers every year. Do you know how hard it is to buy black streamers unless it’s October?”

  “The internet makes it easy now,” Sally said.

  “Where was the internet when I was first married?” my father demanded. “I used to go to this little shop in Otherworld called Back in Black. It was owned by a dwarf called Milliken. Everything he sold was black. And I mean everything.”

  Sally brightened. “Oh, I know that place. I bought a cloak there. It billowed so much at the bottom that I felt like a queen in a gown.”

  My father kissed her cheek. “A queen should be so lucky.” His phone buzzed in his back pocket and he fumbled to retrieve it.

  “Is that Myrtle again?” Sally asked. “Tell her you’re not doing any more blood donations until she returns my hoop earrings.”

  His face lit up as he read the screen. “Good news. The Baskin job is on.”

  Sally glanced up at him. “Really? I thought it was going to be too difficult because the father and son live so far apart.”

  “Family reunion in Otherworld.” My father punched the air. “It’s a twofer.” He cut a glance in my direction. “Long-standing vendetta between the Baskins…”

  “Let me guess—and the Robbins?” I asked.

  “Very funny, but no,” my father said. “The Swarovski family. Johann Swarovski hired me to…”

  I held my hands over my ears and sang loudly, drawing Ryan’s attention. He placed his small hands over his ears and copied me. Pretty soon all four of us stood there with our hands covering our ears and singing at the top of our lungs. Ryan’s laughter soon overtook his singing. He collapsed on the floor, delirious with glee.

  “Oh, to be a toddler again,” I said. Before I knew that my father was a diehard vengeance demon and that, even worse, he took great pride in his work.

  “And have no independence?” Sally asked. “Your nephew can barely walk without assistance.”

  “Like your mother after too many cocktails,” my father said. “Come to think of it, she drools and babbles too.”

  I glared at him. “What have I told you about making negative comments about Mom in front of me or your grandchildren?”

  My father paused. “Make them funnier?”

  I groaned. “Just stop. I don’t need the stress. I have enough to contend with right now.”

  “Is it your mustache?” Sally asked. “I was going to mention it, but didn’t want to upset you.”

  My fingers instinctively touched the area above my upper lip. “What mustache?”

  Sally quickly looked away. “Never mind. I was hallucinating. Must be that new herbal tea.” My mother and Sally had more in common than they liked to believe.

  “There’s a situation in town,” I said. “That’s actually the reason I’m here.”

  My father rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d come purely for the joy of spending time with your family. Would it kill you to make more time for us?”

  “It might,” I said.

  “So what’s this situation?” my father asked. “More supernatural trouble?”

  “I bet it’s the werewolves,” Sally said. “Not Julie and Meg, of course, they’re lovely. Probably the Phelps family again. I bet one of them shifted and was spotted by humans on a camping trip. Am I right?”

  I stared at her blankly. “Where are you getting this?”

  Sally returned her attention to Ryan. “They’re primeval, that family.”

  “They’re not,” my father objected. “They’re so low on the evil scale that they barely register.”

  I smacked my forehead. “That’s not what primeval means, Dad.”

  “Naturally, Aunt Eden knows what it means,” my father said to Ryan in a toddler voice. “How else can she pass judgment if she doesn’t know all the words?”

  I heaved a sigh. Why I thought my father would be a good resource was beyond my comprehension?

  “I found a plant at the Tasker farm,” I said.

  My father craned his neck to look at me. “Congratulations?”

  “It’s not an ordinary plant. It’s a pod with glowing spores.”

  “Sounds beautiful,” Sally said. “Maybe I could plant some in the garden. Mrs. Paulson would be green with envy.”

  “You don’t want this plant in your yard,” I said. “Turns out it’s a pod demon.”

  My father’s mouth dropped open. He shifted to his bottom on the floor next to Ryan as beads of sweat pilled on his forehead.

  “Stan?” Sally asked, her alarm evident.

  My father kept his focus on me. “You’re sure?”

  I nodded. “Neville and I are researching next steps, but Grandma mentioned that you’ve encountered them before. I thought you might have insight.”

  “Not directly, thank the devil,” he said, and repeated the story Grandma told me. “It was one of the worst atrocities I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something.”

  “You weren’t around for the Vampire Revolution in Otherworld,” Sally said. “Talk about atrocities. That’s when many vampires escaped to this world, to avoid persecution.”

  “That’s genuinely interesting,” I said. I was a sucker for history, no pun intended. “But right now I have to concentrate on pod demons. Is there another way to stop the species from invading without killing all the hosts?”

  “If there is, I haven’t heard it,” my father said.

  I thought of the people I suspected were already infected. Although there was no love lost between Sean and me, that didn’t mean I wanted him dead. And poor Mrs. Riggin. Her husband thought she was suffering from dementia.

  “In my experience, the policy has been to eviscerate everything connected to the pod demon to prevent it from spreading,” my father said. “It’s the scorched earth approach. Deadly but effective.”

  “We can’t let that happen to Chipping Cheddar,” Sally said. “This is our home.” She hugged Ryan close to her and he babbled incoherently. My mother could complain about Sally’s coldness all she liked, but the grandchildren clearly adored her.

  “The spores tend to infiltrate while we’re sleeping. We should stay awake as much as possible,” I said. “Make it harder for the spores to invade.”

  “That’s easy for me,” Sally said. “Vampires don’t need sleep. It’s merely a habit we developed to fit into society.”

  “Then you need to help my dad,” I said.

  “I need a solid eight hours of sleep or I’m a nightmare,” my father said.

  I remembered. As kids, if we disturbed my father’s sleep, Anton and I would be forced to wear an oversized T-shirt for the rest of the day.

  The same T-shirt.

  At the same time.

  Needless to say, sharing clothing with my big brother who constantly tormented me while flexing his vengeance demon muscles was not an enjoyable experience.

  “I can watch over him when he sleeps,” Sally said. “If I see any spores coming his way, I’ll destroy them.”

  “Dee-troy,” Ryan repeated.

  My father clapped. “That’s right, Ryan. Destroy.” He tickled the little boy’s stomach. “You are going to be a fierce one, aren’t you?”

  Ryan laughed and clutched his stomach.

  “I don’t remember you tickling me like that,” I said.

  “I didn
’t have to,” my father said. “You had your own hand to do it.”

  “That severed hand that you brought back from Otherworld on a business trip?” I shuddered at the memory. “No thank you.” I hated that hand. It reminded me of Thing from The Addams Family.

  “You were always so ungrateful,” my father said.

  “A thimble with the name of the town would have been preferable,” I said.

  My father poked Ryan gently in the soft flesh of his tummy. “How about you, little demon spawn? Would you like a nice severed hand from Otherworld?”

  “Verity would kill you,” I said.

  “He could keep it here and play with it when he visits,” my father said.

  Sally seemed uncertain about this arrangement. “Does it bleed? You know how difficult it is to remove bloodstains and I’m an expert.”

  “It doesn’t bleed,” my father said. “In fact, it might be useful. It could do the dusting.” He gestured to her feather duster on the mantel.

  Sally perked up. “In that case, I’ll consider it.”

  I bounced a ball on the floor and both Ryan and Charlemagne went after it. “So you have no more ideas about the pod demon? No useful advice to offer?”

  My father gave it another thought and said, “Try not to die this week or next. I’ll be out of town and I can’t reschedule.”

  “That’s…” I shook my head. “I’ll do my best.”

  Chapter Nine

  I left Ryan and Charlemagne at my father’s and drove into town. The more I thought about the pod demon takeover, the more frightened I became. I had to learn more about the pod. How had it gotten on the Tasker farm? Was it simply drawn to the area the way other supernaturals are—because of the energy from the dormant portal? Or was there a more nefarious purpose? I needed to check out the two companies interested in acquiring the land. If one of them had supernatural ties, it was possible they were involved.

  I glanced at the passenger seat where the speeding ticket still rested from yesterday. I’d have to pay it…or maybe this was a good excuse to check on Chief Fox. What if he’d been taken over like Deputy Guthrie? I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to him.

  I decided to swing by the chief’s office before I followed up on the Tasker companies. I parked on the street, not far from the station. As I rounded the corner of the block, I came face-to-face with Tanner Hughes. Inwardly, I groaned. Now wasn’t the best time for a run-in with my ex.

  “Hey, Tanner,” I said.

  “Good morning, Eden.”

  I brushed past him and was shocked when he didn’t try to grab my wrist or make an insufferable innuendo. I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him. “You look nice today.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “You look lovely as well. I like your hair that length. Then again, I’ve always preferred long hair.”

  “Good thing Sassy has long hair,” I said.

  “I’d love her just the same if she were bald,” Tanner said.

  Well, that settled it. Another pod demon. Tanner Hughes seemed to have had a much-needed personality transplant, courtesy of a supernatural invasion.

  “You’re sweet to say that,” I said. “You used to say sweet things like that to me.” Not really, but I had to be sure.

  “Life is simpler when people get along,” Tanner said. “Kindness costs us nothing.”

  “So true,” I said. Poor Sassy. Knowing her, she wasn’t going to like this new version of Tanner one bit.

  “Have a wonderful day,” he said, and I wanted to hurl.

  I continued to the police station and stopped at Judith’s desk. “Is the chief in?”

  The old woman peered at me. “Are you selling something? Because there’s no solicitation here.”

  “No, Judith. It’s me. Agent Fury.” I showed her my badge.

  “Oh, right. Go ahead in.”

  “Thank you.” I continued past her desk to the chief’s door and poked my head through the doorway. “Hey there. Got a minute?”

  “For you?” He broke into a broad grin. “I have at least two.”

  “Ha, very funny.” I entered the office and closed the door behind me.

  He motioned to my head. “Looks like your noggin’s back to normal. Maybe some damage on the inside?”

  “Inside’s functioning normally,” I said.

  The chief wore a hint of a smile. “You didn’t look so bad with that giant head.”

  I gave him a menacing look. “Liar.”

  “I’m thinking you should use that shampoo again on Halloween,” he teased.

  I was relieved to hear him joke with me, even if the joke was at my expense. Based on my limited information, I got the impression that pod demons didn’t have a sense of humor.

  “Deputy Guthrie gave me a speeding ticket yesterday,” I said.

  He chuckled. “Ah, so that’s why you’re here.”

  I retrieved the ticket from my handbag and dangled it in front of him. “I contest.”

  He plucked the ticket from my fingers. “You know you have to contest it in court and not to me, right?”

  “When’s the next Coffee with a Cop?” I asked. “I’ll make sure to stop by with my list of grievances.”

  His sea-green eyes twinkled. “Now there’s a list?”

  I maintained a neutral expression. “There’s always a list.”

  “I hope you’re not catching whatever’s gotten into Corinne,” the chief said. “She was so odd last night.”

  I froze. “Last night?” I didn’t want to imagine what the twosome got up to in the wee hours.

  “We went out for dinner and she barely said a word,” he continued. “She’s usually pretty good company, so I asked if anything was wrong. She said no.”

  “And you believed her?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. She didn’t seem angry or anything. Just sort of blah.”

  Anxiety coiled in my stomach. “Would you say that maybe the light went out in her eyes?”

  A grin tugged at his lips. “Well, she doesn’t shine like some supernovas I’ve met in this town, but yeah, I guess you could say there was a certain dullness about her.”

  “Everyone has off days,” I said vaguely. How could I explain to the chief that his date had been overtaken by a pod demon?

  “I’m sure you’re right. I’m probably overthinking it.”

  “Do me a favor, Chief,” I said. “Keep your windows closed at night.”

  “This time of year?” he said. “The weather’s perfect in the evenings. I love a light breeze when I’m in bed. Alone,” he added hastily.

  “It’s the pollen,” I lied. “Verity says it’s terrible right now and that even people with no history of allergies are going to suffer.”

  “And you don’t want to see me suffer?” He grinned. “That’s sweet of you.” He ripped my speeding ticket in half. “I’ll take care of this for you. Can’t have our federal agents taking time away from their work to show up in traffic court, can we?”

  “Thanks, Chief. You’re the best.” I spun on my heel and practically skipped out of the office. Chief Fox had that effect on me. My body wanted to either float or skip or turn to jelly whenever he was within reach.

  On my way back to the car, a call from Neville came through. “I’ll be there shortly,” I said. “I’m making a couple of stops first.”

  “Good. I have an update for you, Agent Fury, and you’re not going to like it.”

  My whole body tensed as I slipped behind the wheel. “Definitely not when you open with a statement like that. What is it?”

  “I wasn’t getting anywhere on the wizard forum, so I decided to make a few inquiries at FBM headquarters,” he said.

  My fingers gripped the phone. “And?”

  “And if we hope to live through this, we need to keep the situation between us.”

  Between us? “Why? What did they say?”

  “According to my source, the FBM’s response to pod demons is swift and immediate
,” Neville said. “They will destroy the entire town and everyone in it.”

  My pulse raced. “But how? How could they get away with it in this world?”

  “By labeling it as an unfortunate gas explosion would be my guess,” Neville said. “Report that the fire spread quickly and firefighters were unable to contain it.”

  My gut twisted, Bavarian pretzel-style. “We have to make sure the FBM doesn’t get wind of this. Didn’t they wonder why you were so interested?”

  “I told them I’m writing a screenplay about an alien invasion. I had multiple offers of help after I said that.”

  I relaxed slightly. “You’re a genius,” I said.

  “A real genius would be able to take care of the pod demon without risking thousands of lives,” Neville said.

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Neville. We’ll figure this out together.”

  “I have every confidence in you, Most Exalted One.”

  I was glad Neville had confidence in me because, right now, he was the only one.

  The office for Tin Soldiers was a little tricky to find, but I managed. Funnily enough, it was located on the same street as the FBM office, albeit closer to the train tracks. The reception area was practically nonexistent with an unmanned metal desk with a matching chair, and a single chair for visitors pushed against the wall. The decor was tin chic with a variety of designs all made from painted metal. There were sunflower heads, cat sculptures, and a variety of wire silhouettes. I was admiring a rainbow-colored metal heart when a middle-aged man limped into the room. His hair was brown and thinned to a mere layer of wisp. He wore a T-shirt with the logo for the band AC/DC and baggy jeans.

  “I thought I heard the door. Can I help you?” he asked. “The dollar store is two doors down.”

  “I’m Agent Fury.” I showed him my badge and his brows drew together.

  “You’re from the…?”

  “That’s right. FBI.”

  “I see.” He smoothed the thin layer on the top of his head. “I’m Bruce Fendall, president of Tin Soldiers. What brings you to my doorstep, Agent Fury? Is your office looking for some new designs? We have quite a collection, I can assure you.”