Fury Godmother

by Annabel Chase

  I thought of my grandmother’s cat. I had every confidence that Candy could take down a T-Rex should the situation present itself.

  “She stopped spending time in the front garden,” he continued. “When I realized it was because of the dog, I devised a plan to put the dog in its place.”

  I studied Neville. “You couldn’t just go and talk to the owner?”

  “I wanted Fiddlesticks to feel empowered and to make sure the bully knew that she wouldn’t be intimidated anymore.”

  “So you cast a spell?”

  He nodded. “It took a week to perfect the spell, but I was able to see the world through her eyes. I guided her outside and waited until the dog came, as I knew he inevitably would.”

  “That wouldn’t fly in my neighborhood. The HOA enforces the leash policy.” As I knew from personal experience. “Were you able to stand up to the dog?”

  “I hissed and arched my back and made a general fuss until the message was received loud and clear. The dog hasn’t stepped a single paw on my property since then.”

  “Good for you,” I said. “Fiddlesticks must’ve been very grateful.”

  “She was,” he replied. “She even let me pet her that night without biting me.” He smiled at the memory. “It was a good day.”

  “So you think you can control the fish in the same way?”

  “I do.” He stepped closer to the river’s edge and zeroed in on the bass, which had moved slightly downriver. He rubbed his hands together and centered himself before pointing a finger at the fish. “Stars of Ouranos, align us. Winds of Anemoi, guide us. Mother Hecate, grant me the power of union, so that two may become one.”

  His voice was strong and powerful, which was so unlike his usual manner of speech.

  Neville grew very still and his eyes snapped shut. His body twitched and I watched as the bass disappeared beneath the surface of the water. I walked along the river, trying to track the fish but soon lost sight of it. I refused to venture too far from Neville, unwilling to leave him in his spelled state.

  “Anything yet?” I asked.

  “No sign of any demons,” Neville replied. His breathing was ragged.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Nothing that a donut can’t fix.”

  I waited patiently for him to finish exploring this section of the river. Finally, his eyes sprang open.

  “Nothing noteworthy, I’m afraid.” His legs buckled and I managed to catch him before he fell to the ground.

  “Thanks, Neville. That was impressive.”

  “Would have been more impressive if I’d spotted a demon.” He slid to his bottom to rest on the ground.

  “If it’s not in the river, then it has to be somewhere else in the area.” It was too much of a coincidence for those affected to have been here when they voiced their wishes. I wondered whether Mitsy was back from New York. Maybe she could identify her precise location when she made her wish.

  Neville’s gaze drifted to the mound. “You have been checking on the portal regularly, haven’t you?”

  My brow creased. “You think the portal might have opened?”

  “No, but it’s possible if a demon came here, it might have been drawn to the energy inside the mound and decided to linger there.”

  “Good thinking,” I said. “You stay here and rest.” I didn’t wait for him to argue. I headed straight for the portal.

  I stopped outside the mound and scrutinized the area before entering. No sign of any demons. The entrance seemed undisturbed and I didn’t sense any unusual activity.

  I exited the mound and rejoined Neville at the river. “Feeling better?”

  He was back on his feet. “Ready for that donut now.”

  “You go ahead. I’m going to take a walk through the rest of the park and see if I can spot anything unusual.” The river appeared normal. The portal was still dormant.

  I had to be missing something.

  “I’m happy to join you,” Neville said. “It is a lovely day for a hike.”

  “As long as you feel up to it.”

  We veered away from the river and made our way through the rest of the park. I knew this land once belonged to the Davenport family and they’d had a house here, similar to the Wentworths’ house where my family now lived. The Davenports, however, had donated their land to the town and the buildings had been torn down, whereas our dairy farm had been well preserved. And now I was about to give the barn a second life as my home. There was something immensely satisfying about that.

  “I don’t generally come to this park,” Neville said. “I’ll have to change that.”

  “It’s great to have open space like this for residents to enjoy,” I said. We stood on a gently sloping hill of green grass. “I guess that’s why Arthur got his statue. It’s a symbol of gratitude.” And the view of the bay was fantastic. I thought the view from the lighthouse was enviable, but Davenport Park was a close second.

  “Have you given any thought to what you would wish for?” Neville asked.

  “Not really. You?”

  “Of course. I came up with a short list.”

  I laughed. “I expect a typed and printed form on my desk by the end of the day.”

  “Not until I decide the order of priority,” Neville said. “That will require further consideration.”

  “I’d start with my big feet,” I said with a laugh. Although I’d always been relatively satisfied with my looks, everyone has those few negative physical traits they wish they could get rid of.

  Neville glanced down at my shoes as we walked. “I suppose they are on the large side.”

  “See? And that’s why my wish is for smaller feet.” My mother would want me to add smaller hands to that statement. She was forever making comments about my big hands. I didn’t even think they were particularly big. I liked the idea of smaller feet so that I had an easier time finding shoes I liked in my size. As a size ten, I didn’t exactly have the cream of the crop to choose from.

  “And here I expected you to say you’d wish to return to your old life in San Francisco.”

  “There’s a part of me that would,” I said, “but I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened with Fergus. The FBI was right to send me to the FBM. I was a danger to my partner and others.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re not a danger to me. I may not be a fury, but I’m a rather talented wizard.”

  I offered a reassuring smile. “That you are, Neville.” An idea occurred to me. “Speaking of your talents, would you mind taking a look at something for me?” I pulled out my phone and swiped the screen until I found what I was looking for.

  Neville studied the picture on the screen. “What am I looking at?”

  “Ingredients.” It was the picture I’d taken of my mother’s bedroom floor. “My mother and grandmother were using them for a secret spell.”

  Neville took the phone to examine the image more closely. “I can think of a few possibilities.”

  “I can tell they’re up to something, so what’s the most likely option to cause trouble?”

  “I’m inclined to go with invisibility,” Neville said, handing back my phone. “I’ve used similar ingredients for the spell on the locket you’re wearing, but there’s a twist here.”

  “What is it?”

  His brow furrowed. “Based on what I’ve seen, I think the spell is designed to make an object invisible only to a single individual.”

  “You mean you could’ve charmed this necklace so that it only made me invisible to a chosen person?”

  “Exactly.”

  Those two were unbelievable. “Thanks, Neville. That’s incredibly helpful.”

  We finally reached the spot at the river where we’d started.

  “Well, the hike was unproductive albeit rather nice,” Neville said. “I think I’ll reward my efforts with a donut now. Are you coming back to the office?”

  “Not now. There’s something I need to take care of.” I may not have f
ound the wish demon yet, but I’d cracked the case of the secret ingredients—and now I needed to go home and crack a few skulls.

  I drove straight home and marched through the front door and into the kitchen where my grandmother was in a heated conversation with Olivia.

  “If it’s a problem, then you need to take care of it,” Grandma was telling the five-year-old child. My mother sat at the table with them, drinking coffee.

  “What’s the problem?” I asked. I plucked an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it with the same steely determination I felt toward the impending confrontation with my mother and grandmother.

  “Taylor keeps stealing my crayons at school,” Olivia complained. “I asked her to stop, but she won’t.”

  “And Great-Grandma is advising you to do what, exactly?” I knew it couldn’t be good.

  “She wants me to put a wart on Taylor’s nose,” Olivia said.

  “Grandma! You can’t have Olivia hexing her classmates. Taking crayons is a perfectly normal thing for a child to do,” I said. “It’s part of development.”

  “Stealing is part of a child’s development?” Grandma queried. “No wonder society is such a mess. In my day, you stole a crayon and you lost a hand.”

  “You didn’t have crayons in your day,” I said.

  “No, but we had hands.”

  I inhaled deeply. “Olivia, please ignore Great-Grandma’s advice. Hexing your classmates is not a good idea.” I faced my mother and grandmother. “And neither is hexing your neighbor.”

  My mother blinked innocently. “Why would we hex Mrs. Paulson? She’s nosy, but she’s perfectly harmless.”

  “I’m not talking about Mrs. Paulson and you know it.” I watched them expectantly. “I know what you’re doing to Dad.”

  My mother and grandmother exchanged guilty looks. “I don’t know what you mean,” my mother said, digging her heels in.

  “Stop making his glasses invisible to him,” I said. “He thinks he’s going senile.”

  They burst into laughter.

  “I told you it was a good trick,” Grandma said. “I did it to my cousin Edna for an entire six months and it was glorious. She ended up getting laser eye surgery so that she didn’t need to look for her glasses anymore.” She paused. “So one could argue that I did her a favor.”

  “Well, my father isn’t getting laser eye surgery. He’s getting cranky.”

  My mother stifled another giggle. “I should have set up a hidden camera so we could watch.”

  “Next time,” Grandma said.

  “There will be no next time,” I said firmly. “You can’t play tricks like that.”

  “Why not?” my mother asked. “It’s funny.”

  “Not to him,” I said. “And it sets a bad example for others.” I jerked my head toward Olivia.

  “Well, she didn’t know about it until you opened your big mouth,” Grandma said. “So maybe you’re the bad influence.”

  I groaned. “Olivia, please don’t hex Taylor. And don’t follow the advice of these two. They’ll lead you down the wrong path in life.”

  “They told me you were a stick in the mud,” Olivia said, and then frowned. “But I like mud.”

  “Tell your father to stop kidnapping my grandson and I’ll stop hiding his glasses,” my mother said.

  “You know about Dad?”

  “I told her,” Grandma said. “I caught him sneaking out the window, but he didn’t see me.”

  “If I broker the peace, you’d better stick to the terms,” I warned.

  “I’ll swear on a grimoire,” my mother said. “Bring me one.”

  “Later.” I retreated to the attic and flopped on the mattress. I didn’t enjoy the idea of intervening in my parents’ squabbles again. It reminded me too much of my childhood. Maybe Neville was right. Maybe I should change my wish to San Francisco.

  “I saw your grandmother catch your father in the act,” Alice said, appearing from behind a stack of boxes.

  “Next time, could you keep me in the loop?”

  “Of course.” She floated over to the mattress. “Still tracking the demon?”

  “Not very well,” I said.

  “Let me know if you find it,” Alice said. “I know what I’d wish for.”

  “To be alive again?” I asked.

  “No, to cross over.”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry, Alice. If I knew how to help you, I would.” I’d tried years ago to figure out why Alice was stuck here but didn’t come up with anything. There was no record of how she died and Alice didn’t seem to know.

  “I know, dear. You’ve always been unfailingly kind to me.”

  “That reminds me,” I said. “I met another ghost recently over at a place called Evergreen. Samuel Robinson. He seems horribly lonely and I told him about you. He didn’t seem to realize he could leave the property.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind escorting him around town. It would be nice to meet someone new.”

  “I figured.”

  “And how about you? Did you enjoy the company of that handsome young carpenter last night?” Alice asked.

  “John’s a nice guy. We’ve agreed to be friends.”

  “Successful marriages have been built on less,” Alice said.

  “To be honest, I’m not in the market for a boyfriend or a husband, certainly not a human one.”

  “What’s wrong with humans? We’re not so bad.”

  “You’re not, but I might be. What if I go full fury someday? I can’t risk being involved with a human. It wouldn’t be safe.” Not to mention exposing him to my family.

  Alice floated beside me. “Eden, dear. You can’t live your life afraid of what might happen. You have to live based on what is.” She made a ghostly effort to pat my hand. “Trust me. You’ll be willing to overcome your fears for someone you really care about.”

  “Maybe you’re right, Alice,” I said. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see if that day ever comes.”

  “If you want it to come, it’ll come. When you open yourself up to the possibility, it’s more likely to happen. Not quite a wish, but it works in a similar way. No demon necessary.”

  I smiled at her. “No demon? I like the sound of that.”

  “I think I’ll let you ruminate on that,” Alice said. “I think I’ll go over to Evergreen and open myself up to new possibilities as well.”

  She evaporated, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hedwig’s Theme startled me awake the next morning. I reached for my phone on the floor beside the mattress and tapped the screen.

  “Everything okay, Neville?”

  “There’s been an attack this morning,” he said.

  I bolted upright. “What kind of attack?”

  “From the sound of it, a shifter gone mad, but I don’t know the details. Emergency services have been called to Swiss Street.”

  “Thanks, Neville. I’ll head over now.” I clicked off the phone and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and slid my feet into my sneakers. I climbed down the attic steps and nearly tripped on my way to the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong, Eden?” Aunt Thora asked. She stood at the island, spooning oatmeal into bowls.

  I stopped walking and glanced down at my feet. “My sneakers are too big.”

  “How is that possible?” my mother asked. “I didn’t think they made sneakers in a size bigger than yours.” She leaned against the counter, holding a mug of coffee.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Of course there are sneakers in larger sizes than mine. I’m not a basketball player.”

  “No, of course not,” my mother said. “You lack the coordination for that.”

  “You don’t make it through Quantico with a coordination issue.” Anton took a bowl of oatmeal from the island and sat at the table next to Grandma.

  “Thank you, Anton.” I took off my sneakers and inspected the information on the heel. Yep. Size 10. “Grandma, let me try on your shoes.”<
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  Grandma was feeding banana slices to Ryan. “Not a chance. Your feet smell.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since you were born. I can remember spraying them with Lysol.”

  I stood beside her at the table, dumbfounded. “You sprayed my baby feet with Lysol? You applied a dangerous chemical to sensitive baby skin?”

  “What’s dangerous?” Grandma said. “Your skin is fine except for those weird red bumps you’re prone to. You look like you have small insects burrowing there.”

  I closed my eyes and silently counted to ten. “Can I please try on your shoes?”

  Grandma reluctantly slipped her foot out of her brown loafer and kicked it over to me. I slid my foot inside. A perfect fit.

  “What size are you?” I asked. I only remembered that her feet were the smallest of the adult women in the family.

  “A lady doesn’t reveal her size.”

  “It’s your shoe, Grandma,” I said. “You’re not giving anything away by telling me the size of your foot.”

  She hesitated before finally saying, “Seven.”

  My feet were now three sizes smaller than yesterday. I mean, I’d always wished for smaller feet, but….

  Sweet Hecate. I did wish for smaller feet.

  I took off her shoes. “Grandma, I need to borrow a pair of your shoes. Do you own sneakers?”

  Grandma’s foot shot out and she reclaimed her loafer. “I think I have a pair your mother bought me when she wanted us to do aerobics together.”

  “Aerobics? When was that?”

  “1983,” Grandma said. “They’re in my closet.” She pushed back her chair. “I’ll get them. You feed the bottomless pit.”

  “Why doesn’t Anton feed him?” I asked.

  “Because I’m feeding myself so I can get to work,” my brother replied.

  “Why won’t you let me in your closet?” I asked. “What’s in there?”

  Grandma stood. “None of your business.”

  “You’d better not keep black magic contraband in the house,” I said.

  Grandma ignored me and disappeared into her room. I fed Ryan a few more slices of banana before she returned with a pair of Adidas Concords in a faux snake pattern with a Velcro strap. I balked at the sight of them.