Bedtime Fury

by Annabel Chase

  “How do they do it?” I asked. “If spores tried to float up my nose, I think I’d notice.” And at least sneeze them out.

  “It seems that the spores float in and take over the body while the person sleeps,” Neville said.

  Got it. “Because the host’s resistance is low.”

  “It’s basically nonexistent while they’re asleep,” Neville said.

  I groaned. “So what are our options? Pump Red Bull into the water supply until we’ve locked down the demon?”

  “I doubt that’s feasible, Agent Fury.”

  “Well, come on. You’re the invention wizard.” I snapped my fingers. “Invent something to prevent everyone from becoming a Stepford demon.”

  “What do you propose?” Neville asked. “It would be difficult to contain everyone and keep them awake without significant damage. Our options are rather limited.”

  “How about a reverse Sleeping Beauty spell?” I asked.

  He shot me a quizzical look. “I think you’ve watched one too many princess movies with your niece.”

  “No, hear me out. You know the part where the fairies put everyone to sleep?” I asked.

  Neville fell silent for a moment. “I’m sure I’m supposed to feign ignorance, but how can I? It’s a wonderful animated feature.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, the fairies use a spell on the kingdom to give Aurora’s true love time to find her and wake her with a kiss.”

  “Right. So what if we do the opposite? A spell that keeps everyone awake until we find a way to get rid of the demon.”

  Neville settled back in his chair and regarded me skeptically. “How do propose to keep an entire town of humans awake without explaining to them how it’s even possible and, even worse, why it’s happening?”

  He made a good point. “I don’t know yet,” I said, “but that seems to be our best line of defense right now.”

  “It’s not a surefire method,” Neville said. “As far as we know, sleep just makes it easier for the demon take over. Being awake might slow it down rather than make it impossible.” He rubbed his chin. “We also can’t discount the impact of sleep deprivation on an entire town. There might be all sorts of accidents as a result. Psychological problems. People border on insanity without sufficient rest.”

  I felt deflated. “No, you’re right. And we can’t keep layering spell upon spell to counteract the negative effects.”

  Neville pondered the information on the screen. “I’ll make a few inquiries.”

  “Do you have a list of supers that you call with questions?”

  He swiveled in the chair to look at me. “I’m a member of an online forum. We share information about our experiences that might be helpful to others.”

  “Like Reddit for wizards?”

  “Sort of.” His tone was so vague that I couldn’t help but dig deeper.

  “Is it an official FBM forum?”

  “No.” He refused to meet my gaze.

  “Is it for agents? Should I be on it?”

  “There’s no need, Agent Fury. You have more than enough to keep you busy.”

  “I don’t know about that. If this forum is helpful, maybe I should be on it.”

  He fidgeted in the chair. “I don’t think you would enjoy it.”

  “Who cares about enjoying it? We need information and they might have it.”

  He heaved a sigh. “You can’t get it. You…have to be a wizard.”

  “Well, I have witch in my DNA.” I stopped talking when I noticed Neville’s hangdog expression. “You mean only wizards, don’t you?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  I gasped. “Sexual discrimination? Neville, how could you?”

  “I don’t make the rules,” he said. “And it’s been very informative. The wizards there are top of their game. I don’t want to deprive myself of their knowledge, despite their exclusionary tactics.”

  “No wonder you have a hard time dating,” I said. “You spend too much time on single sex forums.”

  “That might very well be part of it.”

  I considered him for a moment. “So what’s your user name on this forum?”

  “Neville123.”

  “Liar. What’s your real user name?”

  He hesitated. “GandalfsRevenge917.”

  I smothered a laugh. “What does the White Wizard have to avenge?”

  “Nothing in particular,” he said. “I just liked the way it sounds.”

  “Your birthday is September 17th, isn’t it?”

  He nodded somberly.

  “I’ll be sure to mark it on the calendar. I’ll buy the donuts that day.”

  Neville bowed his head slightly. “You’re too kind, O’ Immortal One.”

  I smacked his head, careful not to overdo it with my fury strength. “I told you not to call me that.”

  He rubbed the side of his head. “Forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven. Can’t we just destroy the plant? Dig it up and send it back to Otherworld?”

  Neville cut me a disappointed look. “Really, Agent Fury. Did you think it would be that easy? Even if we could, there are likely spores already in circulation.”

  I hung my head in embarrassment. “I just kind of hoped it would be simple.” For once.

  “Unfortunately, I haven’t found anything definitive on how to stop the spread either,” Neville said.

  “Are you kidding?” My pulse began to race. We had an invasive demon species in Chipping Cheddar with no clue how to stop it?

  “I wish I had better news, Agent Fury. I can assure that I’ll continue to research this issue until I find a satisfying resolution.”

  “I hope these wizards are as knowledgeable as you think,” I said. “Text me the second you learn something.”

  “As you wish.”

  I left the office, more worried than when I arrived.

  I didn’t know why I thought it was a good idea to speed home. I knew better. When I saw the red lights flashing in my rearview mirror, I held out hope that it would be the handsome chief behind the wheel.

  No such luck.

  “Good evening, Deputy Guthrie,” I said, injecting a tone of politeness I usually reserved for Shirley, Grandma's God-fearing friend. “Two meetings in one day. What are the odds?”

  Sean’s pale freckled face appeared outside my window. Something about his vacant expression worried me, especially in light of Neville’s discovery. I remembered our recent interaction at the diner—how he failed to insult my swollen head—and I knew. My palms immediately began to sweat on the steering wheel.

  “You were speeding,” he said. His voice was wooden.

  I feigned ignorance. “Was I? Are you sure? I know this is a 40 zone and you know how vigilant I am when it comes to respecting the law.”

  The deputy barely reacted. “You were speeding. I have to write you a ticket now. License and registration, please.”

  I flashed a bright smile. “Come on, Sean. Since when do you need to see my license? I’m pretty sure we got ours the same month back in high school, don’t you remember? You failed your test the first time.”

  “I did fail,” he said. “My father wasn't happy. He hit me with the belt.” He paused. “He always whipped me with the belt when I disappointed him.”

  I winced at the revelation. “I’m sorry, Sean. I didn't know.” Pod demon or not, I couldn’t help but sympathize. After all, Sean was human when it happened.

  “It's okay,” he said. “I’m fine now. I have a great job and lots of responsibility. People respect me. It’s a good life.”

  I dug through my handbag and pulled out my wallet. Unfortunately, the cards had all broken free of their slots—or maybe I just never put them in—and I had to shuffle through them like a deck until I located my license. I handed him the license and then hunted through the glovebox until I found proof of registration.

  “Here you go,” I said.

  Sean studied the license and the slip of paper as though trying to ascertain their
authenticity. “You are twenty-six years old.”

  “Just like you.” The longer I sat here, the creepier he seemed—and I already thought Sean was creepy.

  “I have so much life left,” Sean said. “I’m very fortunate.”

  “Yes, we both are.” No need to tell him about my immortality.

  He wrote me a ticket and peeled it off his pad. “It’s important to adhere to the speed limit. These limits exist for a reason.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. Great Goddess, I hated being deferential to this redheaded turd. It was against my nature. “Am I free to go?”

  He gave a slight smile. “Have a good evening, Miss Fury.”

  “Agent Fury,” I corrected him. I’d earned that title and he was going to use it.

  He tipped an imaginary hat. “Agent Fury.”

  I waited until he returned to his police car and passed by before pulling back onto the road. I sped toward home and called Neville.

  “Sean’s a demon,” I said, as soon as the wizard answered.

  “I didn’t think we used demon as a pejorative term in the supernatural community,” my assistant said. “It seems rude, given the number of them…”

  “No, Neville. I mean an actual pod demon,” I said. “The real Sean has been taken over.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Oh, dearie me. I see. You’re certain?”

  “One hundred percent. I should have put two and two together already, but I totally forgot about his strange behavior at the diner.”

  “What happened?”

  “He wrote me a speeding ticket.”

  There was silence on the other end. “That’s your proof?” Neville finally asked.

  “No. My proof is that he didn’t gloat when he gave it to me,” I said. “No insults today. No scowl. No emotion. It’s like somebody switched off the light upstairs.” I stopped talking, remembering Stuart Riggin’s description of his wife’s behavior. “Oh no. Like Mrs. Riggin.”

  “Sorry?” Neville said. “Mrs. Riggin turned off lights upstairs? Where?”

  I shook my head. “No, no. I think Mrs. Riggin is a pod demon, too. That would explain her sudden change in behavior.”

  “We have no idea how fast this demon has managed to spread its seed so far,” Neville said.

  I cringed. “Can you not use expressions like that? It’s gross.”

  “What?” Neville asked. “That’s what flowers and plants do. It’s how they procreate…”

  “I don’t need a botany lesson, thanks. We have to figure out how to stop it,” I said. If we didn’t figure it out soon, we risked losing the entire town to pod demons.

  That wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.

  Chapter Eight

  “I have a problem,” I announced the next morning as I entered the kitchen.

  My mother’s lips formed a pout. “I know, honey, but all you need is a good pair of tweezers and a few strips of wax and that facial hair will be nothing but a distant memory.”

  I exhaled loudly. “That’s not my problem.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t think so, but I promise you that men have noticed.” Her mouth twitched. “At least your head is back to normal. That topical steroid works wonders.”

  On cue, Ryan pointed to my head and smiled from his high chair.

  “I didn’t hear Verity drop him off,” I said.

  “That’s because Anton did,” my mother said. “You know your brother. He was in stealth mode so he didn’t have to talk to us. Practically left Ryan on the front porch with a note.”

  “Would you like a hot drink?” Aunt Thora offered. “There’s tea in the pot and I have fresh wedges right on the counter.”

  I brushed past my mother and took a ceramic cat mug from the cabinet. As I poured the tea, Charlemagne appeared at my feet and lifted his head to look at me.

  “No begging, Charlemagne,” I said. “You know better.”

  The python continued to stare at me with unblinking eyes.

  “This is hot tea and these are lemon wedges,” I continued. “Trust me. There’s nothing here that you want.”

  Charlemagne didn’t back down. Finally, I relented and tossed the snake a lemon wedge. He gulped it down.

  “I swear that Verity left their snake behind because she didn’t want to share her meat,” my mother complained.

  “Yes, because Verity is such a greedy carnivore,” I said. “Besides, Charlemagne is like a garbage disposal. He eats anything.”

  “Charlemagne and your father have something in common,” my mother said.

  “So what’s this problem?” Grandma asked.

  I sipped my tea. “There’s a new demon in town.”

  My mother’s curiosity was now piqued. “Is he single? Handsome? Doesn’t have to be both.”

  “Definitely not single,” I said. “More like multiples. It’s a pod demon.”

  Grandma snapped to attention. “A pod demon, did you say?”

  “I did say.”

  Grandma rose to her feet and shuffled over to us. “Pod demons are no joke. An entire town in Otherworld was wiped out by those suckers.”

  “And what happened?” I asked. “How did the town keep them from spreading and infecting other towns?”

  “They didn’t,” Grandma said. “The regional council sent in a team.”

  “A team of what?” I asked.

  “The kind of team that makes sure nobody comes out alive,” Grandma said ominously.

  That was very, very bad news.

  “That sounds familiar,” my mother said. “Wasn’t Stanley involved in that?”

  My stomach lurched. “My father was involved?” I wasn’t sure why it surprised me. He was a vengeance demon. Who knew how many towns he’d leveled in the name of revenge?

  “He wasn’t involved in that way,” my mother said.

  “Go see if your father can tell you more,” Grandma said. “All I remember is that he was sent on a job there. By the time he arrived, his target was already eliminated, along with the rest of the town.”

  “Take your nephew with you,” my mother urged. “And that python.”

  I glanced down at Charlemagne, slithering around the legs of the table in search of crumbs from breakfast. “Why the snake?”

  “Because he keeps getting underfoot,” my mother complained. “Let that vampire deal with him for an hour or two. Why should I be the only one?”

  “You’re not the only one,” I said. “You don’t live alone.”

  “She thinks she does,” Grandma said. “You should hear her sing in the shower.”

  “If I lived alone,” my mother huffed, “there’d be a lot more overnight guests.”

  “Why? You’d open it as an inn?” Aunt Thora asked.

  “More like an in and out,” Grandma quipped.

  My mother glared at her. “You’re just jealous because you haven’t had to wear anything except white granny panties since the 1970’s.”

  “Can we get back to the actual problem?” I demanded. “These pod demons are serious.”

  “You’re right, sweetheart,” my mother said. She touched her chin thoughtfully. “Just out of curiosity, do men behave any differently when taken over? For example, say there’s a man who hasn’t shown any interest in a vibrant, beautiful woman. If he were to be invaded by a pod demon, would he then be inclined to…invade this woman?”

  I counted to ten in my head. “If John Maclaren gets taken over by a pod demon, then my barn is never going to get finished.” I went to retrieve Ryan from the high chair. “Where’s Princess Buttercup?”

  “Somewhere in the backyard,” Aunt Thora said. “I let her out an hour ago.”

  “Thanks.” I set Ryan on the floor and whistled for Charlemagne. The three of us exited via the back door and walked the five hundred yards to my father’s house, where he lived with his second wife, Sally.

  I knocked on the kitchen door at the back of the house.

  “Pop-pop,” Ryan said.

  I glanced down at my a
dorable toothless nephew. “That’s right. We’re going to see him now.”

  “Come in,” my father’s voice called.

  I opened the door and Charlemagne forced his way between my feet, nearly knocking me to the floor. Ryan laughed.

  “Are you busy?” I asked, as we crossed the threshold into the living room.

  My father glanced at the house of cards he’d built on the coffee table. “A little. Why?”

  “We came with questions.”

  “We?” At the sight of Ryan, my father beamed. “Hey! You brought my favorite treat.” He ran over and pretended to nibble on Ryan’s arm. My nephew screeched with delight.

  “Come say hello to me,” Sally said. The elegant vampire was busy dusting the mantel of the fireplace. She was the only one I knew who cleaned her house in a dress and pearls.

  Ryan shrank away and hid behind my father’s shoulder.

  “Is your mother making disparaging remarks about Sally again?” my father asked.

  “Not that I’ve heard,” I said. I crouched beside Ryan. “Hey, buddy. What’s the matter?”

  Ryan pointed at Sally. “V’pire.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “Sally’s a vampire. We already know this.”

  Sally flashed her fangs and tapped the end of one. Blood bubbled on the pad of her finger. “See? Pointy.”

  Ryan started to cry. My father hugged him and rubbed his back. “Sally would never hurt you. I can’t speak for other vampires, but if one of them ever so much as pinched you, I’d drag them to the bowels of Hell and fling them into the fiery pit myself.”

  “Dad!” I said sharply.

  “What?” my father said. “It’s the truth.”

  “Too graphic.”

  Ryan’s tears subsided and Sally held her arms open. “Come here, sweet child.”

  Ryan ran to her and flung his arms around her neck. Whatever fear he’d experienced seemed to have dissipated.

  “You tell your mother to stop filling that kid’s head with nonsense,” my father said in an angry whisper.

  “Tell her yourself,” I said. “I’m your daughter, not an emissary.”

  Charlemagne slithered over and poked his head up between us like the periscope of a submarine. I stroked his head and his tongue darted out to lick me.