Love Croakies

by Sam Cheever

  “What if he tries to eat them?” I asked, nodding toward the cherub.

  Sebille shrugged. “It will be gross, but better them than us.”

  “Sebille!” My sharp tone had the Chimera whipping in our direction, wings lifting as if it was thinking about taking off. It snarled at us, spittle flying as it angrily whipped its head.

  “Festering Frog freckles!” I said.

  “Do something, Naida,” Sebille muttered, clamping her bony fingers around my arm.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. You have about a billion artifacts in this place. Throw something at it!”

  I nodded, my mind racing. Throw something…

  SB! No. Rustin would never forgive himself if he ate the ancient parrot. And Blackbeard’s blade, which went where the parrot went, might hurt Rustin.

  I thought of the magic hand vac but decided I didn’t want to see a hundred songbirds get eaten either.

  Think, Naida. Think!

  “Ah!” I swung a hand toward the dividing door and it flew open, a silvery ribbon of keeper energy winding its way into the artifact library.

  A moment later, a single feather floated into the room, dancing its way toward me.

  The Chimera’s golden eyes found the feather and followed it, widening as it swirled and spun in the air between us.

  The creature swiped at the feather with a thick paw and sent it flying away, only to happily return, dancing to its own music.

  A beat later, the lady’s hat that belonged to the feather flew into the store and joined the feather in a graceful waltz that totally captured the Chimera’s attention. A moment later, the monster actually sat down, its golden gaze transfixed. Every once in a while, the creature would take a swipe at the feather with its giant paws, just like a housecat.

  Hilarious.

  For the first time in moments, I took an unclenched breath. “Okay, that seems to be soothing hi…”

  Without warning, the Chimera hit the hat and feather with a leathery wing, and they crashed to the floor. He pounced, swallowing them in a single bite.

  “Oh!” Sebille and I lamented in a mournful duet.

  “Bad kitty!” I scolded. “You spit that out right now!”

  The Chimera had been trying to chew but was looking a little green around the gills. Probably because the artifacts still seemed to be dancing inside its mouth. The creature’s cheeks kept bulging from side to side as if being shoved around by its snack.

  “Drop them, Rustin!”

  To my amazement, the creature slumped dejectedly, dropping to its belly and opening its mouth to release the items.

  The hat and feather flew out and surged toward the door, a bit soppy and mangled but mostly unhurt.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that was…”

  The feather rushed in suddenly and bopped the Chimera on the nose, then darted away. The dividing door slammed shut behind them, followed by an angry roar that I was sure would bring the neighbors if I couldn’t find a way to shut him up. “Stop that!”

  The front door opened and Lea came through. “What’s going on over here? I…” She stopped dead in her tracks, and her mouth slammed shut. Without another word, she turned and went back out the door.

  A beat later, she seemed to have a crisis of conscience and cracked the door again, sticking her nose through. “Do you want me to zap it or something?”

  A groan sounded and I turned to find Grym sitting up, holding his head. “Those little devils pack quite the punch.” He gave Sebille and me a lopsided smile. “What’s wrong with you two? You’re looking a little pale.”

  In the blink of an eye, the Chimera was on Grym, standing over him with a snarl on its lips. Grym’s eyes bulged. “Okay, that’s a big kitty,” he said, holding very still.

  “That’s no kitty,” I said softly so as not to set it off. “It’s Rustin.”

  Lea came into the store, her fingers dancing a spell on the air. At my announcement, she stopped spinning magic. “That’s Rustin?”

  Sebille and I both nodded just the tiniest bit. I couldn’t shake the feeling that sudden movements might set him off. “We need to get him away from Grym.”

  A silvery drop of Chimera spit landed on Grym’s cheek. “I couldn’t agree more,” the cop said.

  “Meow!” Wicked rubbed against my calf as he passed by, heading toward Rustin.

  I tried to grab him, but he was too fast. “Wicked, no!”

  Ignoring me as only a cat can, he trotted up to Rustin and bumped against one thick leg.

  The Chimera looked down and hissed, every bit an oversized cat.

  “Meow!” Wicked responded, then gave the thing a hiss of his own.

  The Chimera blinked in surprise.

  “We need to do something,” I said, my voice reaching shriek level.

  Wicked rubbed his way along the creature’s body, the tip of his tail sliding along the Chimera’s belly.

  To our collective shock, the monster backed off and lay down on the floor, resting its enormous head on its paws.

  Wicked curled into a ball in the curve of the Chimera’s belly and started purring.

  Sebille turned on her heel and headed toward the dividing door.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” I asked.

  “To get your cat a can of tuna. He’s more than earned it.”

  Yes. He certainly had. I blinked, “Wait, are you talking about Wicked or Rustin?”

  Sebille snorted out a laugh.

  6

  Love. The Deadly Plague

  Rustin shivered inside the blanket I’d given him and clutched his tea cup like a life preserver in a roiling ocean. His piercing blue gaze was underscored by purple arcs and his black hair stuck up in tufts where he’d speared it multiple times with shaky fingers.

  “More tea?” I asked the ghost witch.

  Nodding, he scratched his classically perfect nose, which drew my attention to the fact that he wasn’t wearing his wire-rimmed glasses. “And, I wouldn’t turn down something to eat. Taking my other form burns a lot of energy.”

  Sebille quickly grabbed our cups and headed for the tea counter.

  Nobody wanted me to make them tea. My tea was more a form of punishment than a treat.

  I patted Rustin’s shoulder, which, despite his current fragile state felt muscular and strong beneath my fingers. “It is pretty impressive, though,” I told him with a grin.

  Rustin shook his head. “I’m sorry about the premature transformation. I don’t have the best control these days.”

  I retrieved the packet of brownies I’d dropped earlier, when cranky Cupid had kidnapped me. Someone, probably Sebille, had replaced the wrapped bundle in the hidey-hole. I found a clean plate in the cupboard and arranged the brownies over it. “I’m glad to finally see it,” I told him, settling the plate in front of him. “Though, for a few minutes there, I was afraid it might be the last thing I saw.”

  He winced. “Maddie’s working with me on controlling the beast. If I’d had Sadie with me, she could have headed it off.”

  “Where is the little cutie?” Sebille asked, placing another steaming cup of tea in front of him.

  “Birte picked her up a few minutes after Naida disappeared. They’re having a girl dragon day.” He smiled and sipped. “I think it involved painting each other’s claws or something.”

  We laughed dutifully. Little Sadie looked up to Birte, who, despite her ungainly human form, transformed into the most beautiful dove-gray dragon I’d ever seen. Birte had spent too much of her life hating her dragon form, and young Sadie had been abandoned at a young and tender age and relished the sense of “family” she had with the other dragon.

  They were good for each other.

  “In your defense,” Sebille offered, handing him another cup of tea and joining us at the table. “Those things would have startled anybody into shifting.” She jerked her chin toward our two captives.

  We all looked at the two cherubs, whose mouths would
n’t fully close around the terrifying rows of their lethal triangular teeth. Up close, they didn’t resemble babies at all. Their features were too sharp, and their gazes much too cold. Mercifully, they were still both unconscious. Grym had lined them up near the door and was currently out on the street talking on his cell phone to his team. Grym’s small team specialized in paranormal crime and criminals. Each of them had a magical form of their own.

  “What are those things?” Rustin asked.

  I sighed. “I’m not sure what they are, but I’m afraid I know why they are.” I told them what Crotchety Cupid had told me.

  Sebille shook her head. “Grym was beside himself when he came back and discovered you missing. He blamed himself.”

  “That’s ridiculous. None of us saw it coming.”

  She shrugged.

  I thought about what she’d said. “He came back?”

  She snorted. “To apologize for not warning you about the ogres.” Her eyes sparkled. Clearly, she didn’t feel the need to apologize.

  I narrowed my gaze on her.

  The front doorbell jangled and Lea came inside, carrying a book. “I found your mean, flying babies.” She indicated the thick, leather-bound tome in her hands. “They’re not cupids, though they look like the cherubic version human mythology has created. They’re actually demonic in nature. Their genus is Cupidea Amoris Demonica.” She pointed at the long horns jutting from the blond curls in the picture. Despite the horns and the horrible maws filled with nasty teeth, the little creatures looked just like the cherubs of human myth. “They vary slightly. One thing they all have in common is a genetic makeup that’s weighted more heavily toward their war god side.”

  I held up a hand. “Wait. I’m confused. They’re not actually cupids, but they have Ares’ genetics?”

  She nodded. “Lots of creatures share different gods’ genetics. Those guys were a randy bunch. They weren’t too particular about where they passed their DNA.”

  “Ugh!” Sebille said, wrinkling her nose. “Okay, so they’re demons. Where did they come from and why are they here?”

  “Good questions,” Lea said, closing the book.

  “I told you I saw dozens of those things in Loveland,” I reminded Sebille. “Cranky…er…Lovelace said they were the result of the missing serum. He seemed to think the end of the world was nigh if we didn’t find the serum and stop them.”

  “Finding the serum is a given,” Rustin said. “But how will that stop them?”

  “No idea,” I admitted. “But first things first. We have several mysteries to solve.” I held up a finger. “Who took it?” A second finger joined the first. “How did they get it?” A third finger lifted. “Where did they take it, and…” I extended the last finger. “What are they planning on doing with it? Besides sending diaper-clad, flying nasties our way.”

  The front door opened, the bell jangling to announce Grym’s entrance. Two burly men who hadn’t been there before walked in behind him.

  I waved at Brad Spence. “You again!” I said with a grin.

  Spence shrugged. “You need to stop following me around,” he teased.

  The second cop was a man I’d met briefly over a magically frozen Naga. The enormous snake came straight out of the pages of mythology. Our friend Devard, who owned the vapery and apartments across the street, had been forced into the Naga form when we’d inadvertently created a leak in a magical vortex that allowed monsters into our world.

  Don’t ask. It was a mess.

  I didn’t know the second cop’s name. But I remembered that he’d shifted into a demon.

  I joined the three men as they stood over our two captives, discussing what to do with them. Extending my hand to the demon, I gave him a smile. “Hi. I don’t think we’ve formally met.”

  Grym placed a hand on the small of my back. It was a possessive gesture, and it made me all warm and gooey inside. “Naida, this is Nick Black. Nick, this is the Keeper of the Artifacts, Naida Griffith.”

  Nick took my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. His black eyes were serious, but his manner was relaxed. “It’s a pleasure,” he told me. Nick jerked his head toward the prisoners. “These guys are from the eighth circle of Hades. If they’ve been let loose, something ugly’s about to happen.”

  I grimaced. His words didn’t surprise me, but they tightened the knot in my stomach. “Yeah, that’s what we were just talking about.”

  “Does this have something to do with that guy who abducted you earlier?” Grym asked.

  I realized he and I hadn’t had a chance to talk about that since I’d gotten back. First the battle and Rustin’s surprising magical mishap, and then Grym had been dealing with the prisoners while I’d been helping Rustin recover. “Probably,” I responded. “If not him directly, then maybe someone close to him.” I gave them the short version of what Lovelace had told me.

  Nick nodded. “That makes sense. You know that serum is ancient, right? It’s been the cause of dozens of wars and millions of deaths throughout Millennia. If it’s out there in the wrong hands, we could be looking at a cataclysmic event.”

  “Any idea who would want to steal it?”

  “Anybody who likes to create chaos,” Nick answered. He studied the two prisoners. “And that includes just about anyone in the demonic realm.”

  Slug snot! The last thing I needed was a suspect list as long as a dimension.

  “Lovelace said something about his brother,” I said hopefully.

  Nick made a face. “Yeah. These guys use that term kind of loosely.”

  “These guys?” I asked.

  “Demi-gods. You are aware that many of them have roots in the demonic realm?”

  I hadn’t been, but it made sense after what Lea had told us. “My understanding is that the gods are kind of…” I searched for the right word. Promiscuous seemed too prim a word for what Lea had described. “Indiscriminating,” I finished. The careful term earned me a grin from Nick.

  “That’s one way to put it.” He nodded. “It’s accurate, though. Many of the demis are the progeny of mixed couplings between some god and a demon. Rarely do a god and demon actually stay together as a couple though, so your Mr. Lovelace and this ‘brother’ are most likely half-siblings.”

  I didn’t correct him about Lovelace’s name. Whether we called him Mr. Cupid or Mr. Lovelace, he’d clued me into the real problem. I needed to get that serum back and fast.

  Nothing else mattered.

  I spun on my heel and headed for the library.

  “Naida?” Grym called. “Where are you going?”

  “To do some research.” I swung a hand at the dividing door, enjoying the way it opened to my magic without my even having to touch it. Since I’d completed the pairing between us, taking up the full mantel of my role as Keeper, the artifacts and the library itself recognized my energy and responded to my every thought.

  I felt pleased with myself until I remembered it had been my cat who’d clued me in to the power. Mr. Wicked had been opening doors with a thought for months before it occurred to me that he was simply channeling my Keeper energy to do it. I felt a little silly that my cat was magically smarter than I was.

  But I wasn’t surprised.

  I pushed the feeling of inadequacy away as I swept through the door. Mr. Wicked had been trained in magic from a kitten. I’d come into my knowledge late. My New Year’s resolution had been to cut myself some slack, magically speaking.

  And that was exactly what I’d do.

  At the top of my list was performing an inventory in the toxic magic vault before I decided how to move forward. Maybe the serum wasn’t the only thing that had been taken from the vault. If something else was gone, our thief probably had a different plan in mind than Lovelace Cupid thought. Maybe he planned to sell the serum rather than use it himself, which might give me more time to find it before all Hades broke loose. Literally.

  I was coming to understand what a dangerous temptation the artifacts I managed were to those
with evil intentions. None more tempting than the relics in the vault.

  I’d believed I had them locked down and safely under my control. The recent theft had shown me how wrong I could be.

  As I passed Shakespeare’s desk, I hesitated. The inventory could wait a few more minutes. I needed to learn what I was up against with the serum.

  I checked the chair in front of the desk before dropping into it. My mind wrapped up in other things, I’d been caught off guard by it too many times. Casanova’s perverted chair liked to slip itself under the desk and wait for a pair of unsuspecting butt cheeks to land in its molesting seat.

  Fortunately, the velvet nightmare was not lying in wait for my poor boohind, so I dropped into the chair and rested my palm in the center of the aged, tooled leather blotter. The blotter had been created to look like a book, with Shakespeare’s family sigil in the center of what would be the front cover

  The Shakespeare family motto was embossed in fading gold letters along the spine. Non Sanz Droict. Not without Right. Since I was the current KoA, I was one of the very few who had the right to utilize the desk’s prodigious library. “I need information on Cupid and his Love Serum,” I told the desk.

  Right on cue, the tooled leather beneath my palms warmed and began to boil, like a magical curser searching for just the right volume to tell me what I needed to know.

  A moment later, I was starting to worry that it wasn’t going to find anything.

  Light flared just above the blotter, and a slender volume popped into existence. The book was covered in a strange, pale leather that bore two words in blood red on its face. Love. The Deadly Plague.

  Well. That wasn’t terrifying at all.

  I opened the book, repulsed by the cool, rubbery feel of the book’s cover against my fingertips. It felt too much like human skin for my comfort.

  And then I shrieked in surprise as something shiny and round popped out of the pages in front of me.

  7