Sally didn’t respond. We entered the salon and were greeted by a young guy at the receptionist desk with a pierced nose and blue hair.
“Welcome back, Sally,” he said.
“Good morning, Erik,” Sally said. “We both have pedicures scheduled with Bianca.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to bring in a second nail technician?” Erik asked. “It’ll take longer if Bianca does both of you.”
“We’re not in any hurry,” Sally said. She strode past the reception desk and I followed. My stepmom knew how to command a room. Every head swiveled in her direction as we passed by. No wonder my father had refused to leave Otherworld without her.
We entered a room labeled ‘suite,’ where a willowy brunette was filling up the footbaths.
“Good morning, Bianca,” Sally said.
“Sally, my sweet.” Bianca walked forward and kissed Sally on each cheek. “You haven’t aged a day.”
They both burst into laughter. Ah, vampire humor.
“Eden, you’re so grown up,” Bianca said, looking me up and down. “I remember when you were this scrawny kid who didn’t want anything girly. No polish. No makeup. And now look at you.” Bianca clucked her tongue. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“I wear chapstick,” I said defensively. “I hate dry lips.”
Bianca motioned for us to sit. “What’s the special occasion? A welcome home for Eden?”
“You know Eden is the new FBM agent in town,” Sally said. She sat first and I took the seat beside hers.
“I heard all about it,” Bianca said. “Congratulations, Eden. Your family must be very…” She hesitated, likely realizing that ‘proud’ wouldn’t be the right word. “Very happy to have you home.”
“They’re adjusting,” I said. “We all are.” I slipped off my shoes and Bianca recoiled slightly. “My, what unexpectedly large feet for your slender frame.”
“Eden’s an anomaly in so many ways,” Sally said. My stepmom’s feet were, of course, perfect. Even her toes were easy on the eyes. With wispy hair and misshapen toes, my feet looked like they’d been inherited from Hobbits and then hexed by my family.
“Have you chosen a polish?” Bianca asked.
“She’d like my usual,” Sally replied.
“I thought so.” Bianca produced a bottle of crimson polish from her smock and placed it on the stand between our chairs. “Who’d like to go first?”
“Eden’s needs are more urgent,” Sally said.
Bianca digested the scene in front of her, clearly judging it the salon equivalent of a car wreck. “I agree.” She plunged my feet into the water and began to scrub them. I tried not to react to the almost painful tickle.
“Any good gossip?” Sally asked. “Eden’s been wanting to catch up now that she’s back in town.”
“I would think her mother and grandmother are up to the task,” Bianca said, and I heard the trace of bitterness in her voice. No doubt my family had wronged her in some capacity in the past. That was their way.
“Vampire gossip, specifically,” Sally said.
Bianca’s head jerked up to look at me. “Is this because of your new job? You need to keep tabs on us? Paul Pidcock never did that.”
“No, it’s not like that,” I said. “Do you know a young man called Will Hickes?”
Bianca looked blank. “Will Hickes? I don’t think so. He’s a vampire?”
“He is now,” I said.
Bianca halted. “What do you mean—now?”
“I mean that he was a regular human and now he’s not.”
She met my inquisitive gaze. “Unholy hell, are you serious?”
I nodded. “He didn’t know anything about supernaturals until he woke up as a vampire.”
Bianca’s jaw unhinged. “He literally woke up one morning and was a vampire?”
“I went to school with him, so I know he wasn’t one before.”
Bianca shifted her attention to Sally. “I guess you don’t know anything?”
“Only what Eden’s told me,” Sally said. “I had to go to his house with emergency blood. Poor young man was so confused and understandably terrified.”
“I’ll swear on the deed to my salon, Eden,” Bianca said. “I don’t know anything about a turning.” She seemed genuinely pained to hear about Will’s situation.
“Have you heard of any vampires causing problems recently?” I asked. “Anyone resisting the rules?”
Bianca flinched.
“I’m not here to make trouble for vampires,” I said, “but if someone is turning humans, it’s a problem for everyone in Chipping Cheddar.”
Bianca nodded. “There is one. He’s a relative newcomer.”
Why didn’t that surprise me? Longtime residents were much more likely to keep up the charade. They wanted to be able to live here in peace.
“Do you mean Rupert?” Sally asked.
“That’s the one.” Bianca moved my feet out of the water and drained the footbath. She towel dried my feet and set to work on my cuticles.
“Who’s Rupert?” I asked.
“He moved here from Otherworld about two years ago,” Sally said. “He was attracted to the mystical energy, of course.”
“He considered staying in New York,” Bianca added. “That’s the portal he came through to get here. He said he felt compelled to go south and ended up here.”
“What makes you think he’s trouble?” I asked.
“He’s been challenging at times,” Bianca said. “He’s from an old vampire family in Otherworld, practically royalty, so he thinks he’s above our laws here. Doesn’t want to drink synthetic blood. Wants to tell women the truth about being a vampire. Thinks it’s an aphrodisiac.”
“He sounds like a threat to the community,” I said.
“And with a new chief of police, the risk is greater than ever,” Sally chimed in. “We can’t be too careful.”
“How is the new chief?” Bianca asked. “One of the stylists said she saw him in Holes and that he’s absolutely scrumptious.”
I shifted in my seat, unwilling to answer.
“He has a gorgeous face,” Sally said. “And his body—well, don’t get me started.”
“Bite, kill, or turn?” Bianca asked.
“Oh, honey, all three.”
My face warmed. “Sally!” I didn’t want to hear my stepmom talk about anyone like that, not even my dad.
“Sorry, darling,” Sally said. “But it’s true.”
“How about you, Eden?” Bianca said. “Bite, kill, or turn?”
I bristled. “I’m not a vampire.”
Sally patted my arm. “Sometimes it’s good to pull the wand out of your bottom.”
“And replace it with the chief’s…”
I didn’t let Bianca finish. “So where can I find Rupert?”
Bianca unscrewed the lid to the polish and began applying the deep red color to my toes. “Evergreen.”
“Evergreen, the old mansion?” I asked.
“That’s right,” Bianca said. “He bought it and renovated it. I’m told he’s using it for both personal and professional purposes.”
“What professional purposes?” I asked. “Like a home office?”
Bianca snickered. “Something like that.”
“Apparently, he’s using the downstairs as a private club,” Sally said. “He invites attractive women by special invitation only.”
“What happens at the club? Gambling?”
“No idea,” Sally said. “With Rupert, I can safely say I don’t want to know.”
“If you want to catch him off-guard, I’d suggest going after ten,” Bianca said. “He’ll be preoccupied with his…guests.”
And more likely to answer my questions. Perfect. “Thanks, Bianca. You’ve been really helpful.”
“No problem.” Bianca slid her stool over in front of Sally’s footbath. “Your turn, Mrs. Fury.”
Even though Sally and my dad had been married for years, it still sounded str
ange to hear someone other than my mother referred to as Mrs. Fury.
While Bianca finished Sally’s pedicure, I texted Neville to check whether there was a file on Rupert. The more I knew about him, the better.
“Who are you texting, Eden?” Sally asked.
“My assistant, Neville,” I said. “He’s going to pull Rupert’s file if there is one.”
“Is Neville single?” Bianca asked, with a knowing look at Sally.
“He’s nice, but he’s not my type,” I said. Why did everyone seem so eager for me to have a love life? I was only twenty-six, not seventy-six. I had plenty of time.
“I would think nice is exactly your type,” Bianca replied.
Sally slipped her dry toes into her sandals. “Let’s leave Eden be. She gets enough pressure from her mother as it is.”
I shot my stepmom a grateful look.
“Pressure is what makes a diamond,” Bianca pointed out.
“Then I’d rather be a decaying carbon-based life form,” I said.
Bianca’s gaze traveled to the floor where I stood. “Honey, with those feet, it looks like you already are.”
Sally and I arrived back at the house and my stepmom headed straight upstairs to use the bathroom. She tended to avoid public restrooms. When I was younger, I’d assumed it was a vampire thing. I only later discovered it was specific to Sally.
I wandered into the living room where my father was looming over his grandson.
“Come on, Ryan. You can spell it,” he said. “It’s only four letters.”
“R-y-a-n,” I said.
My father’s brow wrinkled. “Not Ryan. Evil. E-v-i-l.”
Of course. How silly of me.
“Stand up straight, Eden,” my father said. “You’re hunching again.”
“I’m not hunching.” Despite my protest, I squared my shoulders and sucked in my stomach. My father had served as the main critic of my posture since the day my spine was formed.
“How was the salon? It’s nice to see you and Sally spending time together.”
“She was really helpful today.”
“Good. Now how about you help me? I can’t find my glasses again.” He scratched his head, looking perplexed.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m worried I left them at the country club.”
I plucked the glasses from the coffee table in the middle of the room. “You mean these?”
My father’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe your vision is worse than you think,” I said. “Why don’t you make an appointment with the eye doctor?”
My father put on his glasses. “Maybe I will.” He stared at the coffee table, frowning. “But I swear I checked the coffee table.” He exhaled loudly. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. Sally thinks it might be early onset dementia.”
Sweet Hecate. A vengeance demon with dementia? That could be dangerous for everyone.
Ryan giggled and I glanced over to see him swaying on his feet. He didn’t have the standing thing down pat yet.
“Be careful.” I rushed forward before he toppled over. I scooped him up in my arms and he smiled at me.
“Eye,” Ryan said, and pushed his finger into my eye. I managed to snap it closed before he poked my eyeball.
“He means the letter ‘I,’” my father said. “See? He’s spelling evil.”
“Very good, Ryan,” I said, ignoring my dad. “That’s my eye.” I set Ryan back on the floor. “Dad, do you think it’s possible that Ryan is responsible for hiding your glasses?”
My father’s laughter rumbled through the house. “What? You think your nephew is a mischief demon?”
“Stranger things have happened,” I said. I watched Ryan as he returned to play with the figurines on the blanket on the floor. My stepmom never let Ryan play directly on the floor. There was always a blanket as a buffer between the toddler and her pristine carpet.
“I hope he’s a more impressive mischief demon than you are a fury,” my father said.
“Gee, thanks.”
My dad came to stand beside me and gazed down at his grandson. “Do you really think he might be a mischief demon?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But if you’re not going senile or blind, then maybe there’s another explanation.”
“He looks like me, don’t you think?” my dad asked with a proud smile.
Ryan gurgled and laughed as a trail of spit appeared on his chin.
I looked at my dad. “Yes, he definitely does.”
My phone began to shriek like a banshee and I groaned.
“Did you change your mother’s ringtone again?” my father asked.
“Variety is the spice of life,” I replied, and clicked on the phone. “What is it, Mom?”
“Your nephew is missing! Call the hot chief of police.”
I glared at my dad. I knew this would happen eventually. “Calm down, Mom.”
“I can’t calm down. My son is a vengeance demon. Do you know what he’ll do to me if I let his son get dragged off from his crib by dingoes?”
“We don’t have dingoes in this country,” I said.
“They don’t think we have witches and vampires in this country either, but we do.”
I heaved a sigh. “Ryan is perfectly safe. I’m with him now.”
“What do you mean?” The pitch of her voice pierced my ear and I winced.
“He wasn’t sleeping so I decided to take him for a walk,” I lied.
“Why didn’t you leave a note?” my mom asked, her voice still shaking with outrage.
“A note? Uh, I guess I didn’t think of it.”
My mother clucked her tongue. “For a smart girl, you can be terribly dim-witted.”
“I’ll bring him back now.”
“Please do. He needs his sleep. It’s important for supernatural development.”
I clicked off the phone and tucked it back in my pocket. “Let’s go, Ryan. Back to your life behind bars.”
Ryan held up his arms for me to lift him. “Up.”
I picked him up and inhaled his powder scent.
“Why did you cover for me?” my father asked.
“Because I don’t want the two of you fighting where I’ll be caught in the middle.” I smoothed Ryan’s hair. “I covered for me, not for you.”
“At least she said you were smart,” he said. “That’s a compliment.”
“She said I was terribly dim-witted.” And was probably plotting her revenge right now.
My dad shook his head. “Take the win.”
“Please work out an arrangement if you want to see more of Ryan,” I said. “Stealing him out of his crib isn’t setting a great precedent.”
“I’ll think about it,” my dad said stubbornly.
By the time I reached the backyard, I had to put Ryan on the ground to walk. He was far too awkward and heavy to carry on my hip the whole five hundred yards.
“They should make us carry toddlers at Quantico as part of our training,” I told him. Not that it mattered now. All that training had been for nothing. I was here now, an agent for the FBM. And I’d have to endure basic supernatural training like some newbie. Life wasn’t fair.
The walk took longer than necessary because Ryan kept falling every few feet, but we finally made it back to the farmhouse. My mother waited on the back step, her arms crossed.
“Take the scenic route, did you?” she asked.
“Mom-mom,” Ryan said, and smiled.
My mother’s frown faded. “Hello, you gorgeous little boy.”
“You weren’t this nice to me when I was little,” I said. “You asked me to call you Beatrice in public.”
“It seemed unnatural for you and Anton to call me anything else,” my mom said. “I didn’t look old enough to be anyone’s mother.”
“Is that why you’ve asked to be called Mom-mom?” I asked. “Because it could be mistaken for plain old mom?”
“G
randma was already taken,” my mother sniffed. She lifted Ryan to her chest and tickled him under his chin. “Let’s get you down for a nap, sweetheart.” She turned and glanced at me over her shoulder. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Terrific.
I entered the kitchen where my grandmother and Aunt Thora were slicing vegetables. Well, my great-aunt was slicing vegetables while my grandmother looked over her shoulder and criticized her. Teamwork.
“I know how to chop a carrot, Esther,” Aunt Thora said.
Grandma looked at me. “I heard you kidnapped your nephew. If you want a baby so bad, why don’t you go hang around the marina tonight? I’m sure someone can accommodate you.”
“I didn’t kidnap him.” I refused to elaborate and rat out my dad, even though he deserved it.
“If you need a small sacrifice,” Grandma said, “I’m sure we can poach a kid from the local school.”
“I don’t need a sacrifice,” I said. “I don’t practice black magic, remember?”
“You don’t practice much of anything,” Grandma said, snatching a carrot from the cutting board and biting into it. “If you did, you’d be better at your job.”
I stiffened. “What makes you think I’m not good at my job?”
She waved the carrot at me. “Someone turned a vampire and you don’t have a clue what happened.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “How do you know about that?”
“The whole supernatural community is buzzing about it,” Grandma said. “I heard about it from Nancy in the nursing home. I went to see her this morning.”
My mother returned to the kitchen and gave me a sharp look. “Paul Pidcock would have had this situation under control by now.”
“What situation?” I asked, exasperated. “We don’t even know that there is a situation to get under control.”
“Oh, there’s a situation,” my mother said. “I can feel it in the air. Can’t you, Mom?”
“My spidey senses are tingling,” Grandma agreed.
“That’s just your overactive bladder,” I said.
Grandma fixed me with a thousand yard stare. “You want to run my fade? Let’s take it outside.”
I closed my eyes, trying to collect myself. “I’m not going to fight you, Grandma, and for the love of Hecate, will you please stop reading the urban dictionary?”
“Wait until I tell Anton that you abducted his only son.” Grandma dragged the end of the carrot across her neck in a threatening gesture.
Fury Godmother Page 6
