Three Alarm Fury

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Three Alarm Fury Page 4

by Annabel Chase


  “No,” I said. “She’s a vampire. I’m watching to make sure she doesn’t overstep.”

  The chief blanched. “That woman is a vampire?”

  “In the flesh,” I said. “And she seems to be interested in their flesh. It worries me.”

  “You don’t hunt them, right?” he said. “You’re not a slayer like Buffy.”

  “Not a slayer,” I agreed. “Excuse me, I’m going to have a word with her before things get out of hand.” I didn’t want to have to do paperwork on a Sunday because some vampire was an eager beaver.

  I waltzed over to the trio and pushed my way in the middle. “Greetings and salutations.”

  “Hey, I remember you,” Hank said. His eyes were glazed and his nose was tinged with red. “You were on our party bus earlier. Why’d you leave?”

  “Because I’m not a seventy-five-year-old man,” I said.

  “Have you met Gloria?” Hank asked.

  I flashed a bright smile. “I haven’t had the pleasure.” I stuck out my hand. “Hello, Gloria. Are you new in town?”

  “I’m not local. I’m here visiting a friend.”

  “Thought so.” I took out my badge and showed it to her. “Listen, my name is Agent Fury and Chipping Cheddar is my territory. You feel me?”

  Gloria’s jaw tightened. “I think I do.”

  “You want her to feel you?” Scott asked. “I knew we came to the right bar.” He high-fived Hank.

  “These men are celebrating a friend’s upcoming nuptials,” I said. “They’re not looking for any trouble.”

  “Neither am I,” she said quietly.

  “You work for the FBI,” Hank said, sounding impressed. “My nephew works for them, too. He’s in Virginia.”

  “It’s a big organization,” I said. “There are a lot of us.”

  Gloria slipped away without another word. I kept one eye trained on her while I continued to make small talk with the men.

  “You scared her away,” Scott said. “Thought I might get lucky.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “It would have been quite the opposite.” Gloria had disappeared down the hallway that led to the restrooms. I was pretty sure there was a back door too.

  “I’m getting tired anyway,” Scott said. “I think I should have Chip drive me home soon.”

  “Not me,” Hank said. “I want to see the sun rise.”

  Scott shook his head. “And here I thought I was the nutty one. I’ve never seen you so alive. Jana’s bringing out the crazy in you, pal. It’s pretty awesome.”

  “Another pint of your finest ale,” Hank called to the bartender.

  “Will the party bus drop everyone home safely?” I asked.

  “It better after the lengths we had to go to,” Hank said.

  “Great lengths for a party bus, huh?” I said. “Is it because of your ages?” I’d heard of companies not wanting to rent to younger men, but hadn’t encountered the same discrimination against older men.

  “Our first rental fell through, so we had to rent it from a place in Baltimore,” Scott explained. “It came off the boat yesterday. I think that’s why Chip is behaving so responsibly tonight. He paid the deposit.”

  “He’s usually the one passed out on the floor by ten,” Hank added with a chuckle.

  “There’s actually a party bus boat?” I asked. That sounded dangerous.

  “No, this company ships the busses from Mexico,” Hank said. “The factory relocated there a few years ago from Detroit.”

  “What’s the world coming to when we can’t even get our party busses made in the USA?” Scott asked, quickly followed by a gaping yawn.

  “Don’t wait for the bus,” I said. “Call a cab.”

  The other men from the bus still seemed to be enjoying themselves. They were dancing up a storm in the open section of the bar. I worried that the hospital would end up with an influx of bruised and broken hips tomorrow, as well as dehydrated bodies.

  “Everything okay?” Chief Fox asked. He and Neville ventured over to check on me.

  “Good,” I said. “I should probably make sure my new friend isn’t lurking outside, though.”

  “Should I come?” Chief Fox asked.

  “Not for this,” I said firmly. “This isn’t your area.”

  “Maybe it should be.”

  “Absolutely not,” Neville interjected. I could see the worry lines streaking across his forehead.

  “Have a beer with Hank and Scott,” I said. “I’ll be right back.” I threaded my way through the bodies and slipped down the hallway and out the back door. Naturally, the lone light fixture seemed to have a broken bulb.

  “I know you’re still here, Gloria,” I said. Although I couldn’t see her, I felt her presence.

  Gloria stepped out of the shadows. “You again. Why are you stalking me?”

  “Because you’re stalking human veins. Can’t let you do that. It’s for your own good as well as theirs.”

  “You think your badge scares me?” Gloria seemed to have overcome her willingness to leave quietly.

  “It’s not my badge that should scare you.”

  She tilted her head, probably realizing that she couldn’t place me. Not all supernaturals could. I was too rare a beast. “What are you?” she asked.

  I revealed myself slowly, unfurling my wings and letting the crown of snakes hiss and coil on my head. Gloria scampered backward at the sight of me.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” she said. “I only wanted a bite to eat.”

  “Then go to a blood bank,” I said. “Buy a fizzy blood orange. You know you can’t snack on humans. The penalty isn’t worth it.”

  Gloria’s expression became anguished. “I normally don’t get cravings. I don’t know why I felt so hungry for the real deal tonight.”

  “Are you really visiting a friend?” I asked. One of the snakes slithered down to rest in my cleavage and I tried to nonchalantly shift it away without ruining my tough appearance.

  “Yes, that’s true,” Gloria said. “Patti didn’t feel like coming out. We spent the day in town. I’d seen the party bus earlier today, so when I saw it parked here, I decided to come inside.”

  “And then you decided to linger out here, waiting for a potential victim to stagger out here all drunk and disorderly so you could justify your attack.”

  Gloria put her hands on her hips. “What about you with your venomous hat?”

  “It’s not a hat,” I said tersely. “And I don’t attack people with them. I protect people. That’s part of my job.”

  “You’re some kind of freakish superhero? Did you get bit by a radioactive snake?” She frowned. “No, that doesn’t explain the wings.”

  “I’m a fury,” I practically shouted. “Now go back to your friend’s house and stop thinking about using your fangs as a crazy straw.”

  Gloria’s focus returned to my head. She seemed more concerned with the snakes than the wings. “I’ve never seen a fury before. I thought you were extinct.”

  “Consider it a gift. We specialize in punishment.”

  Gloria’s eyes widened slightly. “I’m pretty beat. I think I’ll be going now.”

  “Good plan.” I watched as she ran around the corner of the building and blended with the shadows.

  “Eden?”

  Great balls of fury. I quickly cloaked my traits and turned toward the sound of his voice. “Chief?”

  “Are you okay out here?” He stepped outside, his face illuminated by the moonlight. That chin dimple alone was enough to sweep me off my feet, forget about the handsome face and rock-solid body.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” I met him at the door. “Gloria seemed to be having an issue. Hopefully I helped get her back on track.”

  “Why don’t you kill them?” he asked.

  “Vampires?”

  He nodded. “Why not stake them and eliminate the threat entirely?”

  “Because the vampires living in this world generally want to live a more human existence. They�
�re happy to drink their bottled blood and spend their weekends trying out new cookie recipes.” Like my stepmom, Sally.

  “They’re not all predators?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  “Do you think I know any vampires back in Iowa?” he mused.

  “I’d bet good money on it.”

  He tipped his head, thinking. “Mr. Thornton could have been one. My old baseball coach.”

  “What makes you think that?” It was unlikely Chief Fox would be able to identify them so quickly. It took most humans years of exposure and practice to get it right.

  “He loved a good Bloody Mary.”

  I laughed. “That’s because he probably loved too much beer the night before.”

  The chief clasped my hands in his. “How about we love too much beer right now? Give us an excuse to wrap our arms around each other later, prop each other up.”

  I slid an arm across his broad shoulders. “Who needs an excuse?”

  The next morning, I stumbled downstairs from the attic. I was desperate to get rid of the thin layer of film that had formed over my teeth in the night, probably because I forgot to brush them after I came home. My dentist would not be pleased.

  “No playing fast and loose with dental hygiene,” he would say, completely serious. “You’ve got to commit to those teeth. They’re the only real set you’ll get.”

  “Is that Eden or a Sasquatch?” Grandma asked from the table. “I can’t see past the tangled hair.”

  I tugged the knotted strands off my face. “Your granddaughter. Sasquatches are too scared to come here.”

  My mother and Aunt Thora were also at the table. The smell of freshly baked banana muffins pulled me into their sphere against my better judgment. I reached for a muffin and nobody smacked my hand away. A good start to the day.

  “You were home late last night,” my mother said. “I was up reading and heard the door well past one o’clock.”

  “I would think you’d award her a gold star for that,” Grandma said. “She’s finally taking after you.”

  I focused on my mother. “Okay, I don’t know what you were actually doing at one in the morning, but we both know it wasn’t reading.”

  My mother shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Fine. I was scrolling through Instagram.”

  “That’s more like it,” I said. “Reading involves words.”

  “So do hexes,” my mother said in her warning tone.

  I ignored her and went to the stovetop. “Coffee?”

  “Do we look like amateurs to you?” Grandma asked.

  I checked the pot. There was enough left for half a cup. It would have to do because I was desperate.

  “There was an incident at The Cheese Wheel last night,” I said. “That’s why I was out late.”

  “Demonic activity at the bar?” My mother leaned forward intently. “Tell me more.”

  “It wasn’t a demon. A bunch of aging bachelors acting up caught the attention of an opportunistic vampire.”

  My mother’s eyelashes fluttered. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come to tame those savage beasts.”

  “The bachelors weren’t the problem, Beatrice,” Grandma said. “It was the bloodsucker hoping for a happy ending.”

  “You mean a Happy Meal,” my mother said. “A happy ending is something else. Trust me, I know.”

  I cringed. “There was no need for civilian involvement. Chief Fox was there.” I caught the look that passed between the women at the table.

  “So you were at the bar late last night with Chief Fox?” my mother asked.

  “I wasn’t with Chief Fox,” I said. “We both happened to be there.”

  “Who were you with?” Aunt Thora asked.

  “I promised Neville I’d try to find him a girlfriend.”

  My mother flicked a dismissive finger. “Oh, that little wizard isn’t going to date anyone. He’s too sweet on you.”

  “Neville is not sweet on me,” I insisted. “He has a professional respect for me. There’s a difference.”

  “Why would the chief of police get involved in a vampire issue?” Grandma asked. “It’s not like he knows about them.”

  I gulped. “He didn’t know,” I lied. “He thought the men were being propositioned by a hooker. We’d met them earlier in the day on a party bus and knew they were wasted…” Oops.

  “We,” my mother repeated. “You and Chief Fox?”

  Keeping our relationship secret was going to be tougher than I thought, especially while I still lived in the house. “I happened to be passing by when he was called to the scene,” I said. “The party bus was illegally parked. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. That’s why I was out late.”

  I obviously wasn’t convincing enough because my mother said, “I see how he looks at you. He is off limits.”

  “I told you Neville has a healthy respect…”

  She cut me off. “I’m not talking about the little wizard and you know it.”

  “Eden’s no better,” Grandma added. “She looks at him the way Beatrice looks at the Buxmont sextuplets.”

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “All of them,” Grandma replied.

  A dreamy look crossed my mother’s face. “Imagine having all of them at the same time.”

  “Chief Fox is so nice and handsome,” Aunt Thora said. “Don’t you think you’re rushing to judgment? Eden could do much worse.”

  “That’s true,” Grandma said. “She could still be with that awful Tanner Hughes.”

  My mother groaned. “Don’t even say that deplorable human’s name.”

  “What a loser,” Grandma agreed.

  “He’s an attractive young man,” Aunt Thora said. “I can understand the appeal.”

  “I don’t think the chief is a good idea and that’s that,” my mother said. She seemed determined to hammer this point home.

  “I didn’t think you and Stanley were such a good idea either,” Grandma said. “And you can see how much influence I had there.”

  My mother’s head swiveled toward her. “You literally tied me to the rafters and threatened to starve me until I broke up with him.”

  Grandma shrugged. “Look on the bright side, you lost ten pounds that month. You never looked better.”

  My mother appeared thoughtful. “I haven’t thought about being tied up for weight loss. I’ve only been using it for…”

  I held up a hand. “Empty stomach.”

  “Your mother’s right, though,” Grandma said. “Chief Fox is a liability we can’t afford.”

  “He’s the chief of police,” I said. “I can hardly avoid him.”

  “I’m not saying to avoid him,” Grandma replied. “I’m saying not to get too close.”

  “Fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. “I’ll keep it professional.”

  “See?” my mother said. “I told you Eden would do the right thing. She always does.”

  “Normally it’s a drag but, in this instance, I’m good with it,” Grandma said.

  Princess Buttercup materialized in the kitchen, her ears alert. Someone was here.

  “Hello, anybody home?” Verity called. She rounded the corner with my nephew on her hip. “I’ve already dropped off Olivia at a friend’s. I’m sorry to dump and run, but I have a full workload today.”

  “But it’s Sunday,” my mother objected.

  “We’ve had a sudden uptick in emergencies,” Verity said. “When it’s like this, I’m not about to send everyone to the ER.”

  “Is something going around?” I asked.

  “Nothing connected,” Verity said. “Arthritis. Nerve pain. Digestive issues. Migraines. It was relatively quiet and then—bam!”

  “Bam!” Ryan echoed.

  My mother scooped the toddler out of his mother’s arms and nuzzled him. “There’s my precious evildoer. Who’s my little devil?”

  Ryan bonked her on the nose with his small fist.

  “I’ll be working late, but Anton will pick him up be
fore dinner,” Verity said.

  “He’s still away?” my mother asked.

  “Comes back tonight, thank the gods,” Verity said. “I wish he didn’t take these side jobs.”

  I bet Verity had no idea that my brother’s side jobs were vengeance-related. He’d told me that he’d basically given up that line of work, but they’d just had major renovations done on their house. Everybody was a hypocrite when it came to money, it seemed.

  “Anton and the kids might as well stay for dinner if the lady of the house won’t be there to feed her family,” my mother said.

  Oh boy.

  Verity bristled. “Anton is more than capable of feeding himself and the children.”

  “I know, but he’s been working so hard and he’ll have just gotten home. He shouldn’t have to,” my mother said.

  I could see each vein in Verity’s usually smooth head rise to the surface. “I’ll let you work that out with Anton,” the healer said through gritted teeth.

  My mother smacked her lips all over Ryan’s face and he laughed and tried to squirm out of her arms. Beatrice Fury was a difficult mother and mother-in-law, but I couldn’t argue with her role as grandmother.

  “Have a good day, Verity,” I said.

  “Thanks.” My sister-in-law wisely escaped the house before my mother could say something else to annoy her.

  My mother placed Ryan on the stool at the island and sliced a muffin in quarters for him. “While I’m thinking about it, what are you wearing to Myrtle’s funeral?” Myrtle Blackwood was an elderly witch who’d died peacefully in her sleep. Although she didn’t have a local coven, she’d been friendly enough with the other witches in town that they’d promised to host her funeral services.

  “Your daughter-in-law was just here and your mind goes to a funeral?” I asked. “Go figure.”

  “Black,” Grandma said. “What did you think I’d wear? A rainbow tutu with sparkling tights?”

  “Myrtle was such a character though,” my mother said. “A black dress seems too formal for her funeral.”

  “I’m a character. What would you wear to mine?” Grandma asked.

  My mother beamed, the answer sliding effortlessly from her lips. “That flattering crimson dress with a black hat and red spiked heels so I can dance on your grave.”

 

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