by Susan Hayes
Before Tiff could answer, the locket flipped over, revealing a long-forgotten detail. Her initials were etched there in neatly looping script. The key zipped out of her fingers and hit the back of the locket with a sharp click, and then there was a musical tinkling as a hundred tiny silver and gold sparks swirled around the locket before fading away once again.
“This all seems needlessly complicated,” she muttered.
The locket looked the same as always. Plain and boring, but there was one new detail—a little clasp along one side that hadn’t been there before.
“You have got to be kidding me. All that just so I can finally open this little trinket?”
“It’s important, Fern.”
“It’s insane.”
Tiff-Tiff sighed and went back to batting the diamonds across the floor, slowly gathering them into a pile.
Clearly, she would get no help from that quarter, so Fern pressed the clasp. It sprang open, revealing a picture of her parents. She knew them instantly, recalling every forgotten detail of the way they looked and spoke. Goddess, she could even remember the smell of her mom’s shampoo. She lifted it higher to get a better look and then yelped in shock when the photo came to life and started speaking. In rhyming couplets no less. She was going to need more ice cream.
* * *
“It’s time for you to come back home,
Regain your life, no more to roam,
The darkness threatens, the battle comes soon,
But you’re our light against the gloom.
Second of three, you’ll take your place,
And our old enemy you shall face.
If this battle you do win,
It may be our fate to meet again.”
* * *
Her parents waved up at her, barely visible through the tears that filled her eyes and streamed down her face. “We love you so much. Happy birthday, little one.”
Fern let go of the locket and exhaled slowly. There was a moment of terrible grief, and she had to blink hard to rid herself of the tears that threatened to spill over.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way.” Tiff-Tiff came over and curled up at her feet.
“You really couldn’t tell me any of this before?”
Tiff looked up at her. “I really couldn’t.”
Fern rubbed a hand over her heart like she could ease the ache there. She didn’t get upset very often, and it never lasted long. Anger, sorrow, grief, it all sort of slid off her. But not tonight. Tonight, it hurt. “I don’t understand why I’m so upset, either. I mean, they’ve been gone half my life.”
“Because until tonight, you didn’t remember them well enough to miss them.”
She glowered down at her familiar. “I hate this.”
“I know.” Tiff pushed the remains of the ice cream in front of her. “Eat this. Then, we’ll talk.”
Chapter Two
Most days, Orion loved being in the kitchen of his pub because it was his. He and his brother had renovated every inch of the place themselves—from the front of the house to the walk-in coolers in the back. He’d ordered and inspected each ingredient that came into the place, all of it local and top quality. The menu was his, too. Sure, most of it was the usual bar fare, but his fries came with ketchup he made from scratch, and his dill pickle brined chicken wings sold out every week.
He’d poured his heart and soul into this place, and it was paying off, slowly. It was a good thing Shifters lived a few hundred years because it would take a good portion of his life to get out of debt. Still, it was worth it.
At least most days it was. Today, though, he heard the call of the open road. It wasn’t an itch he got to scratch that often. There was always too much to do and not enough hours in a day.
He kept catching himself looking out the windows they’d installed to give the kitchen a light, airy feel. The summer sun was pounding down on the gravel lot outside, and his motorcycle was parked under a wide, shady pine. He swore he could hear it whispering to him, tempting him to drop what he was doing and take it for a spin. Not just the quick trip from home to work, but an open throttle joyride along the windswept beaches.
“Nope. Not happening,” he told himself and turned away from the window again.
“You’ve been having the same conversation with yourself for an hour, boss. There a problem?” his sous chef asked. Petal Fisher might not have formal training, but she made up for it with talent and a work ethic that was second to none.
“Ever play hooky as a kid?” he asked, going back to his work.
“In this town? There aren’t enough kids here to get away with anything like that. Hell, my family’s factory is across from the schoolyard. My parents could stick their heads out of the office and do a headcount of their cubs anytime they wanted to. And if they saw any of us up to no good?” Petal gave a dramatic shake of her shoulders. “Momma bear mode is not something you want to be on the receiving end of. Ever,”
“Fair point. Well, I’m having a day of wishing I could play hooky from work. Only my boss is a workaholic asshole who won’t approve the time off.”
Everyone laughed, him included. He and his brother co-owned the bar, but no one thought he was talking about Hunter. His brother was the steady one, the one with a kind word and a joke for any occasion.
“You could go, you know. We’ve got this handled,” Petal pointed out.
“I could. But that’s not fair to any of you.” He flipped his knife in his hand as he thought about it for a minute. He wasn’t the only one working his tail off right now, and while he might not be willing to give himself a break, the others had more than earned one. “What if we did a beach party soon? Employees only. Head up the coast a few miles. S’mores, steaks, a few beers?”
“That sounds good. You’d really let us do that? Take a night off?” asked Jim, the newest member of his kitchen staff.
He had a great crew. It wouldn’t hurt to let them know they were appreciated. “I think this town can cook their own meals for one night.” He grinned, liking the idea more and more.
“Except maybe Ethel and Mary-Sue. Their cooking is the reason we have a volunteer fire department,” Petal said.
“Seriously? Is that why they’re here for every meal and buy takeaway for the nights we’re closed?” he asked.
“Yep. After the last fire, the town got together and sent them a note asking to please unplug their stoves and never use them again. That was just before the two of you arrived and took over.”
“So how do they cook stuff?” Frick piped up from the dishwashing station, scrubbing away at the lunch pots and pans with frenetic energy. Goddess, he loved squirrel Shifters. They were always bright-eyed and literally bushy-tailed.
Petal shrugged. “Microwaves. Uncle Anton keeps extras in stock at the store just for them. They explode a few every year.”
Orion was about to ask how the hell anyone could blow up microwaves that often when his brother popped his head in.
“Hey, bro. You’ll never guess what kind of visitor just showed up at our door.”
Orion growled. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“About this? Never.” Hunter shook his head, which sent a lock of dark hair tumbling into his eyes. When he smoothed it back, Hunter managed to sneak in a wink to his mate, despite the fact there was a “no flirting during work hours” rule.
“Who are they with and what do they want this time? We’ve already seen the Health Inspector and the guy looking for asbestos. What else could there be to check on?”
Around them, the kitchen had fallen silent. Every business in town had been affected by the sudden upsurge in government inspectors arriving, poking their noses into everything, and then leaving a trail of red tape and forms to be filled out in triplicate in their wake. For the moment, it was nothing more than an inconvenience, but if it continued, it was only a matter of time before someone got closed down for a problem they hadn’t known they had. Someone was targeting Wyrding Way, and they
all had a good idea who—the self-proclaimed Father of Shadows. The man’s love for self-aggrandizing monikers was only eclipsed by his raging hard-on for taking over the town and whatever magical G-spot it was supposed to be built on.
“You forgot the ones who came to see if your elevator was certified. Even though you don’t have one,” Petal pointed out, grinning.
“Apparently they’re concerned about earthquakes?” Hunter shrugged. “They want to take a look around and then take a look at our building permits and the structural plans. It’s all upstairs in the office, but I don’t want to leave them to poke around the place on their own.”
“Damn right.” Orion straightened up and tossed the knife he’d been using into the center of the target on the far wall of the kitchen. “I’ll be right out.”
“We got this, boss,” Petal said. “Right, Jimbo?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah! Totally.” The gull Shifter finally tore his gaze from Hunter, but there was no missing the love-struck look on his face.
Orion stalked past and uttered another growl, this one mostly for show. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to say it? If you two want to be all adorably happy and in love, do it on your own time.”
Hunter grinned at him and danced out of the way. “You’re just jealous you haven’t found your mate yet. Though Goddess knows where we’re going to find one who can put up with your grumpy ass. Maybe you should try online dating again. Oh, or we could start a social media campaign and see if we can make you go viral on PawBook.”
“Shifters Digest ad?” Petal suggested.
“Grumpy wolf with work-life balance issues looking for his mate. Must love bikes, food, and bikes. No full-moon freaks need apply,” Hunter called out as he took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“You better run, puppy!” He turned and glowered at the staff. “And you lot, quit encouraging him.”
He snagged a towel, wiped off his hands and then went out into the front of the house to deal with their unexpected and unwelcome company.
Two hours later, he’d learned more about building codes, liquefaction, tsunami hazard zones, and earthquake preparedness than he’d ever wanted to know.
“So, you’re going to go through this with every business in town, Mr. Thellwood?” he asked once he finally got the two inspectors back to their car. The dinner rush would be starting soon, and he needed to get to work.
“Afraid so, and please, I asked you to call me Jake.” The skunk Shifter shifted from foot to foot. He’d been uneasy from the start, shooting worried glances at Orion like he expected him to shift any second and tear him to pieces. His companion, a ferret Shifter called Mr. Zoxx, was so twitchy he made Frick look almost Zen-like in comparison.
He couldn’t tell if it was the fact that he was a wolf Shifter or because he stood six-foot-three, wore his hair in a ponytail, and hadn’t bothered to shave in a few days. The combination always made him look like the biker he’d been in his previous life instead of the chef he was today.
If these two felt unsettled around him, wait until they had to deal with the Fisher family, all pure-blooded grizzly Shifters who owned Grizz Fizz, the biggest local employer and creator of one of the province’s most popular soft drink companies. Petal’s family were good people, but damn, they took up a serious amount of real estate.
“I know you’re just doing your jobs, but we seem to be seeing a lot of inspectors these days. You’re going to find some folks aren’t too happy to see you.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw and tried to look friendly. “Maybe if you told me why you’re here, I could spread the word?” So far, no one had been very forthcoming about why they needed to come back and re-examine buildings and request paperwork that should have already been on file. These two might just crack if he applied the right amount of pressure.
Thellwood sighed. “My associate can explain. Argyle? Tell him.”
Argyle started to tap his fingers together in agitation. “Well. You see. There was an attack. Not a real one. A cyber assault. On our computer systems. Someone opened an email they shouldn’t have. And uh…” he popped up the fingers of both hands. “Poof.”
Orion pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache the little Shifter’s babbling was bringing on. “What poofed?”
“Gremlins,” Argyle wailed. “A gremlin strike force was hiding inside the email. I swear I didn’t know! I thought it was from my buddy Roger. He finds the best uh… articles,” Argyle dropped his gaze to the ground and twiddled his thumbs.
Articles. Uh huh. Orion really didn’t want to know, but he was grateful these two were willing to talk about what had happened. Everyone else had muttered about privacy issues or office policies and refused to talk about it, no matter how many times they’d been asked as they moved through the town. “So, gremlins wiped out your system?”
Both inspectors nodded and Argyle spoke again without looking up. “Email was spoofed. I goofed. All the data went poof,” Zoxx said. “Sorry, I rhyme when I’m stressed.”
Orion waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. One more question, though. All the data, or just the files about this town?”
“That’s the weird bit. As far as we could tell, only the records for this area were destroyed,” Jake said.
Goddess be praised, someone had finally admitted what they’d all suspected. The town had been targeted. “It’s not as strange as you might think. We’ve had some problems here lately.”
“You mean, apart from the fact that this whole area is in a tsunami flood zone?” Jake pointed out.
“We’ve got a local witch. If we tell her what needs to be done, she can probably fix things so the town will still be here even if the damn island sinks.”
Jake wrinkled his nose. “That’s not what’s going to happen. You see, the tectonic plates in this area are—”
Orion cut him off before he could launch into another long-winded description and kill what was left of his brain cells. “I don’t need the details, but if you could write up a list of suggestions for the mayor to review, I think we’ll be fine. For now, I suggest you two might want to go find Gertie Fisher and talk to her about accommodations for the night. Dark blue house right next to the Grizz Fizz factory. She rents out some beach cottages. Otherwise, you’ll have to drive all the way to Tofino for a motel room.”
Argyle groaned. “There’s no hotel here?”
“Nope.” A hotel would attract too many human tourists, and that was the last thing anyone wanted, which was why the whole place was magicked up to look like it was one good storm away from falling over. The handful of surfers and backpacker types who made it this far never stayed long, and that was just how everyone liked it.
“We’ll talk to Gertie. Rent a place for a few days. It would be easier than tackling that highway. More potholes than pavement.”
“Yeah, we’re trying to get that fixed.” Because on top of all the other problems they were having, the only road into town was becoming a serious issue. Last week a truck loaded with groceries and foodstuffs for the town snapped its axle after hitting one of the larger potholes. A roving band of feral, carb-eating fairies had set upon the scene, and before anyone could stop them, they’d swarmed like a school of airborne piranha and devoured everything edible, along with a few things that weren’t. Now, the company was making noise about canceling their contract, and the fairy band had taken to attacking any trucks that drove by in hopes of another easy meal.
If that happened, the whole town was fucked, and not in a fun way.
He pointed the two inspectors in the right direction and then took a moment for himself. It was the only break he was going to get today, but he didn’t mind. Not really. He’d come to Wyrding Way to make a home for himself and Hunter—a real home with good people and a way to earn a living that didn’t involve shady deals, sleazy clients, or pouring drinks at places so grimy he wanted to shower in bleach after every shift.
He rolled his shoulders and glanced up
into the wide expanse of blue sky. “Don’t know if you’re listening, Goddess on high, but if you are, you might want to send us that “second of three” witches we’ve been promised fucking fast, or there won’t be a town left for her to protect. And frankly, I think you owe Hunter and me a favor or ten. So yeah, a little help would be nice.”
Not that the high and mighty Goddess had time to listen to the requests of a guy like him, but from what he understood, the whole place was in trouble if the three prophesied witches didn’t arrive in time, and witch number two was already two days late. If she didn’t show up soon her familiar, Shazam-alanga-dingdong, was going to die of alcohol or cholesterol poisoning as he ate and drank his way through the days, pining for his missing witch.
And this is why I don’t rely on anyone but myself. If help showed up, he’d take it. If it didn’t, he and every other resident of this weird little town would have to deal with the threat themselves. He cracked his knuckles and headed back inside. He needed to check on the things in the kitchen and then he’d haul Shaz out from whatever table he was sleeping under and try to get the cat to drink something that wasn’t at least forty-proof.
Chapter Three
Fern stood in the middle of her penthouse, which was emptier than a grocer’s bread aisle the day after the first snow of the season. She felt the same way: hollowed out and full of echoes. At twenty-six years old, she’d just discovered she didn’t know who she was. Hell, she hadn’t even known her real name.
She still didn’t remember much about her childhood, and her conversations with Tiff-Tiff were less than helpful. The damned cat wouldn’t give her access to her files to help her fill in the blanks. Every familiar had them, it was part of their job, but Tiff had just shaken her head and said it wasn’t possible. At least the cat told her more about the town, though something was odd about how she described things. It was as if every word of it was coming out of a guidebook. Her familiar had been with her since she was a girl, but it was like Tiff didn’t recall the place any better than she did.
