Storm a-Brewin'
Page 2
I glared daggers at him, wishing it might make him unsay what he just had. All it did, though, was make Tanner recoil and say, “What?” Then his eyes darted to Fiona. “Oh right. But she’s cool.” He addressed her. “You’re cool, right?”
“I’m not going to tell the press who the obvious fifth witch of your new circle is, if that’s what you mean.”
“You know?” I asked.
She chuckled. “I work at a bar. I see who comes in together and who goes out. I hear things from people I shouldn’t on a regular basis. I think I know more about the people in this town than they know about themselves. And as such, I make it a policy not to talk about any of it to anyone.”
“Speaking of Hyacinth and James,” Tanner said, “I just heard they moved into a new house in Erin Park.”
“Great,” said Fiona. “Now I get to be neighbors with them.” She arched a displeased eyebrow. “If anyone tells you leprechauns are lucky, you remind them of this and that’ll shut them up.”
“Wait,” said Eva. “They won’t come into a predominantly werewolf diner to eat, but they’ll move farther away from the Outskirts into a neighborhood that’s about fifty-fifty with witches and leprechauns?”
Fiona shrugged. “It’s also where most of the elves live, so maybe Hyacinth wanted to be around more of her kind. Although, honestly, you’re trying to find logic to bigotry, and I don’t think that’s possible.”
The bell above the door rang again, and a middle-aged woman stepped in. She was soaked head to toe from the rain, and water pooled on the floor around her feet. She looked more wet dog than witch.
I’d seen this woman around town, hanging out with some of the other active Coven members, but I didn’t have a clue of her name or even what type of witch she was. I’d certainly never seen her in Medium Rare before.
She didn’t look around for an open table, just stood there watering the floor. Strings of her shoulder-length brown hair stuck to her face, and it struck me as odd that she wouldn’t brush them back. In fact, a lot of her behavior struck me as odd. “Welcome,” I called out to her, “you can have a seat wherever.”
“Need a towel?” asked Tanner. “We have plenty in the back.”
It was only when she failed to respond with even a smile or a glance our way that I took a closer look and noticed the box in her hand.
It was an ordinary box—biodegradable cardboard by the looks of it—and big enough to hold a large crystal ball or a small cauldron. She bent stiffly at the waist and set it on the ground just past the edges of the booths that backed up to the entrance. And then, she turned and walked back into the rain.
It didn’t take my powers of Insight to tell me something was off about that. I glanced at Fiona, who shared a worried look with Tanner.
“Is it a delivery?” asked Eva quietly.
No one in the restaurant but the four of us seemed to notice the strange cameo, and conversation carried on as usual while the box sat there untouched. The three werewolves that had mistreated Eva cackled about something, setting my nerves on edge.
“It’s probably nothing,” I said, taking the initiative and rounding the counter to approach. Tanner moved with me and we paused as we reached the box. He set his hands on his hips, leaning side to side to view all the angles.
“Just looks like a little package. You order something?”
I had to consider it. “No, I don’t think so.”
He took out his wand as subtly as he could to avoid getting any werewolf hackles up, then he squatted and waved it slowly around the box. “Not sensing any enchantment. Hold on a second …”
He leaned closer, tilting his ear toward it this time, and his mouth turned into a little O as he looked up at me quickly. “It’s ticking. Why would a box—”
Before he could finish the question, the mysterious package supplied the answer. A bell like a kitchen timer rang, and the lid popped open, shooting a fine, sparkling dust into the air … and directly into Tanner’s face.
He fell back onto his rear, coughing and waving his hand around to clear the powder.
I was at a complete loss. It was like a glitter bomb, but there was so much of it. Watching it shimmer through the air left me entranced. It reflected the overhead light, sending glistening blips this way and that, slowly spreading throughout the small dining room.
“Is it someone’s birthday?” Eva asked, and that seemed like a pretty good guess, considering. Why deliver something like this and walk out?
“Mine’s not for another month,” I said.
“Not mine, either,” said Tanner.
The particles continued to dance throughout the entire diner before slowly falling back down to earth. And as they did, the werewolves at table five began gasping for air and making horrible gagging noises. Then, so did Lot Flufferbum.
That was strange. The stuff had blown right into Tanner’s face, and he’d been able to cough it off quickly. Why were they—
It suddenly hit me what was in that box.
“Holy smokes, Tanner!” I said, my feet glued to the tile floors while select guests on my left and right continued to gag and groan. “It’s silver powder!”
Chapter Two
Tanner scrambled to his feet and leaped into action, sprinting out the front door after the witch. Ted appeared suddenly beside me. “You gonna drag them out of here, or should I?”
I heard him loud and clear. Contact with silver was excruciating for any were-beast. Breathing it in could be that and more. I already knew it didn’t take much skin exposure over the long term to kill a werewolf, and as the dust literally settled on my customers, seconds became precious.
“Eva! Fiona! Grim! Help me!”
The few guests who weren’t affected by the silver turned in their seats, trying to understand the commotion, but I didn’t have time to explain. I ran to table five, grabbed the first werewolf I could get my hands on, and dragged her from the booth, across the floor, and out the front door into the rain. I couldn’t get the silver out of her lungs, but I could get it off her skin.
Eva and Fiona had the roundest of the werewolves between them, sharing the load as they dragged her out, kicking and screaming. The idiot was actually resisting them.
“Get your”—hacking coughs—“hands off”—grotesque gurgling—“me, witch!”
On my way back in for the few remaining weres, I passed Grim, who’d grabbed Lot Flufferbum by the collar of his button-up shirt and dragged him roughly toward the exit. I held open the door as he backed out.
“I’m gonna need a lot of bacon for this …”
Even his thoughts sounded strained as the werebunny mistook Grim’s help for an attack and tried to fight him off. I winced as Lot’s head cracked into the metal door frame.
“He’s trying to save you,” I snapped at Lot before adding, “you idiot,” and dodging back inside.
By the time all the affected guests were outside in the rain, too many minutes had passed, and the chorus of coughing was growing to a crescendo. And I could have sworn I saw the lady in the floral dress cough up blood.
Fiona had the added benefit of not being a witch, which meant the more biased of the weres accepted her comfort without a struggle.
“We need to get them help,” I shouted to Eva through the downpour. She nodded, but before she could take action, Tanner appeared, rain-soaked and red-faced.
And annoyingly sexy.
Not the time, Nora!
“I lost her, but I know where she lives. I can catch up with her later.”
Thunder cracked overhead. “We need to get them help,” I hollered.
“Already on it,” he said.
A second later, cutting through the dim, blurred sky came the bright glow of Eastwind’s angelic sheriff, Gabby Bloom. She landed gracefully yards away, folding her great white wings behind her. “The Lytefoots are on their way already,” she spoke over the rain. “I told them to bring remedies for silver, is that right?”
I nodded.
The Lytefoots arrived shortly. Both Kayleigh and Stella had their hands full, flitting from one agonizing person to the other on their pixie wings. Stella administered the potion for them to drink while her partner rubbed a thick honey-like salve over their skin that didn’t wash away despite the wetness and relentless rain.
I felt an extra helping of chill against my shoulder and turned to see the same ghost who’d been browsing my astronomy homework earlier.
“She looks just like you,” he said, pointing at Kayleigh Lytefoot. It was a conclusion I’d arrived at a while ago.
“Yeah. Thanks for the super helpful observation amid the chaos.”
“I’d almost guess she was a doppelgänger if it weren’t for the fact that they were annihilated from the realm a while ago, and she has wings and is slightly prettier than you.”
I turned to glare at him full on, waving my hand through the air where he hovered, trying to waft him away. “I think that’s just about enough out of the peanut gallery.”
“What?” the spirit said defensively. “To even come close to the beauty of a pixie is an accomplishment. Learn to take a compliment.”
“Learn to give one,” I snapped. “Don’t make me banish you.”
I felt the ghost disappear right after I put my back to him again, returning my attention to the grim scene.
And speaking of which …
“He even tastes sour.” Grim trotted over, having done his good deed for the day. Kayleigh and Stella were attending to the werebunny now.
“Please don’t tell me you actually bit him.”
“If I broke the skin, which I admit I did, it was because he wouldn’t stop struggling. That’s on him.”
I still wouldn’t put it past Lot to publish that a witch’s familiar bit him during the fray. Never mind why.
I sighed, feeling the gravity of what had just happened sink in. There wasn’t anything left for me to do, but I couldn’t tear myself away. Instead, I cast a glance over my shoulder at the diner, dry and bright behind me, I saw Ted had returned to his corner booth. The grim reaper sipped his coffee and watched the scene like a hawk.
Not today, Ted.
Chapter Three
Because the inside of Medium Rare was now the magical equivalent of a chemical spill, there was no choice but to close down for the day.
Eva stayed on to help me scrub every surface we could find, but I knew there were particles we hadn’t gotten to, ones that would have to float through the air a bit more before they settled and we could clean them.
For obvious safety reasons, I told Jane not to come in, which meant it was just down to Eva and me, and it wasn’t until after six when we were both able to leave.
“Enjoy your day off,” I said as she opened her umbrella under the awning out back.
Word traveled fast in town, and a few hours prior I’d received a notice by owl post that the High Council was requiring the diner to pass a safety inspection for any remaining traces of silver before I could open my doors for business, which meant I got to spend the following morning scrubbing everything all over again before the inspector came out.
As annoyed as I was, I also understood. It was lucky that there weren’t any deaths resulting from the event. Being the target of an attack like that was bad enough for business without there being fatalities.
And, yes, I was also happy no one died for reasons unrelated to my business. Hopefully that goes without saying, but, well, maybe not. Especially when Lot Flufferbum is involved.
The delay in getting back home meant I had no down time before lessons.
A circular conversation with a neurotic spirit kept me occupied on the rainy walk. I didn’t know this ghost before her death, but she chattered on like we were old friends, telling me all kinds of sordid details from her time with her last lover … who ended up murdering her.
I didn’t know what closure I could give her, so I just listened.
“Sounds like he wasn’t a great guy,” I said, finally.
“Oh no,” she said airily. Or rather, more airily than how ghosts usually speak. “He was wonderful. I was what drove him to it ...”
Oh boy. There it was. She wasn’t going to move on until she admitted it wasn’t her fault she was murdered. I’d encountered a few of these, and they always took forever to work through. I could always just banish her, but Ruby had insisted that wasn’t ideal for those with unresolved issues.
When I entered into Ruby’s parlor, my landlady was sitting quietly in her usual spot, but she jumped up the moment I entered, even before her eyes landed on my ghostly attachment, and scurried over, flailing her arms and saying, “Not in the house!”
For a moment, I thought she meant Grim. He seemed to think the same thing, and tucked his tail to protect his tender bits.
But Ruby ignored him, instead reaching up and rattling a few of the baubles hanging from the ceiling.
With a yelp, the spirit was sucked out of the front door, which slammed shut.
“Thanks,” I said. “I needed a break from her.”
Ruby didn’t seem to hear me as she zigzagged around the room, selecting particular hanging totems and giving them a jiggle. “I’ve had just about enough of the thinning veil! Can’t a Fifth Wind get a moment’s peace? Clearly not.”
She stopped when her eyes landed on Grim, where he stood dripping on her wood floor. “Oh, he’s gotta go out, too.”
“Make me, woman. Those freaky dust collectors don’t work on me.”
To avoid a Grim and Ruby showdown, which I had no doubt wouldn’t work in Grim’s favor, I decided to speak on his behalf. “What if I just towel him off? Old Grim Goodboy lived up to his name today.”
“That’s not my name!”
“Did he?” said Ruby skeptically.
“Yes. He saved Lot Flufferbum.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Lot Flufferbum? The one that works at the Watch?”
I nodded.
“Hmph! I’d hardly call saving Flufferbum’s fluffy bum being a good boy.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at Grim. “But fine. Towel will do … this time.”
* * *
Grim, clearly feeling like he’d put in a solid day’s work by being a hero, lounged by the fireplace, exuding an air of entitlement to his laziness stronger than I’d ever seen from him. Or maybe it was that I’d fed him too much bacon as a reward, and that was why he was spread out on his back, giving both Oliver Bridgewater and me an eyeful of his nether regions without a care in the world.
By the time our study of nuclear combustion was completed, it was well dark outside, and the rain had let up somewhat, though that proved to be only temporary.
“Off you go,” Ruby said, holding the door open for Oliver. “We don’t have much time for the practicum before it starts raining again. I had to call in an old favor, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”
Oliver scurried down the porch steps, and I grabbed my overcoat and umbrella before we followed the same path.
“Grim, you’d better come with us,” Ruby said.
My familiar, still on his back, airing out his bits after his most recent thorough cleaning, flopped around like a turtle on his back until he was able to find his feet. “There is not enough bacon.”
“Medium Rare is closed until further notice, Grim. That means no scraps. You’re cut off. But if you come with us, I’ll give you two strips of bacon in the morning.”
“I’ve never been so insulted in my life. Two pieces?” He trotted toward us. “You’re lucky I’m slightly terrified of Ruby, or else it would be no deal.”
Oliver continued o
n his route home while Ruby led the way toward Erin Park. I had a suspicion of where we were going, and when we turned down a side street and Rainbow Falls came into view, my guess was confirmed.
The umbrella had remained unopened by my side for the duration of the walk, though I’d hugged my coat tightly to me against the Winds of Change that now regularly rushed through Eastwind in howling bursts.
Even though the rain had let up, there wasn’t a star to be seen through the thick clouds, so I wasn’t sure how we were going to have our astrology lesson.
But just as I opened my mouth to make a snarky comment, a hole appeared in the clouds above us. Its diameter grew rapidly, and I snapped my mouth shut and turned my attention to Ruby, who was smirking.
I asked, “What sort of favor did they owe you?”
“A big one.”
“And how did you get someone this indebted to you?”
Ruby waved me off. “Please, dear. You act like I did nothing before you belly flopped into this realm.” She clucked her tongue at me. “I spent decades solving people’s mysteries for them. You wind up with a lot of people in your debt, if you play your cards right and convince them that the money they’re paying you is a steal for what they’re getting.” She paused to gaze at the starlight flowing in through the hole in the clouds. “It’s always a shame to call the favors in, though. Not that I run at a shortage, just that keeping a town indebted to you is a great way to keep from being asked anymore favors. Now that Candice Crystalis is off the hook, I reckon it won’t be more than a month before she comes knocking, asking for some new favor. Never mind that I’m retired!”
I guessed that Candice was the North Wind responsible for this bit of aeromancy that allowed us to see the night sky.
Fifteen minutes later, once Ruby had walked me through some of the constellations we were focusing on, we moved onto planetary alignment. Grim was on his back again, his fur drenched after a thorough roll in the wet grass. His thick jowls flopped back, almost covering his eyes.
“Is there any significance to the fact that both Miro and Foltz are close together in the Leetomere constellation?” I asked.