“If you ever feel like playing golf, come on by,” he said. “I can also give you ten percent off on any fudge or ice cream.” He motioned down the block. “My brother George manages the shops and I manage the golf course. Sometimes we swap, but I do my best to steer clear of the sweets.” He patted his stomach. “My brother doesn’t need to worry so much, but I inherited my dad’s shape.”
“Thanks for the offer. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” I said. As tempted as I was by the prospect of fudge and ice cream, I knew I had to save it for another time. Although I’d ruled out Farley Twisse, I was still no closer to figuring out what happened to Rosalie or anyone else—and if Hank and Rosalie’s current conditions were any indication, things were about to take a turn for the worse.
Chapter Fifteen
I arrived home from the mini-golf course and ran into the house to use the bathroom before I headed over to see Charity Grace. If Charity had attended the same party as Rosalie, maybe she was also experiencing issues.
When I emerged from the bathroom, I heard Aunt Thora’s scratchy voice singing You Sexy Thing. I found her in the kitchen holding a broomstick like a microphone. She waved to me and carried on singing. I noticed Olivia on the sofa wearing oversized headphones. She pulled one side away from her ear when she spotted me.
“Aunt Eden, she won’t stop making noise.”
Aunt Thora popped a lemon on the handle of the broomstick to make a head and danced around the island with it. I could see why she and Ted got along so well.
“She’s in a good mood,” I said. “Why rain on her parade?”
“Why not? She rained on mine. She told me I should be reading at a higher level,” Olivia complained.
I shot a quizzical glance at Aunt Thora. That sounded like the sort of thing Grandma would say.
Aunt Thora shrugged. “We have to encourage her if we expect her to reach for the stars. We didn’t have to do that with you, of course. You were chomping at the bit to achieve right out of the womb.”
Olivia ripped off her headphones and tossed them onto the cushion. “It isn’t nice to compare. I’m my own person.” She grabbed a coloring book and a box of crayons from the end table. “I don’t know who let Ryan color in this book. He can’t stay in the lines like I can. That boy is impossible.”
“He’s a year old, Olivia,” I said. “We’re lucky he’s coloring with the crayon and not eating it.”
Aunt Thora started to use the broom to sweep the kitchen floor, breathing in the scent of the lemon while she worked. “Anton used to eat crayons. For a few months, your mother worried that he was going to be a garbage demon.”
“There’s a garbage demon?” Olivia asked. “Is that what Oscar the Grouch is?”
“Quite possibly,” Aunt Thora said.
“Why have I never heard this story?” I asked.
Aunt Thora flicked the broom. “Oh, you know your mother. She likes to sweep things under the rug. Kind of like I’m doing now. Ha!” She smiled at me.
“Since when does my mom like to hide anything?” I countered. “She’s all about flaunting it in your face.”
“She can be discreet,” Aunt Thora said. “She hexed that awful Tanner Hughes to save you from a lifetime of misery with that narcissist. She didn’t flaunt that, did she?”
I stopped and turned around slowly to face her. “I’m sorry. When did she hex Tanner?” I was certain I’d remember that.
Aunt Thora set the broom against the wall. “When you were in high school. She wanted to make sure you didn’t hitch your wagon to a human, so she fixed it.”
“Define ‘fixed.’” My tone was sharper than I intended. Olivia must’ve sensed the tension because she jumped off the sofa and fled to the guest bedroom where she often stayed overnight.
Aunt Thora seemed incapable of keeping anything to herself right now. Surprisingly, she didn’t even try to lie. “She hexed Tanner so that he slept with Sassafras Persimmons. She knew Sassafras had a thing for the boy, so your mother saw it as a way to extricate you from the relationship. You know she never approved of dating humans.”
Every vein in my body pushed against the surface of my skin, ready to burst. “How long have you known about this?”
Aunt Thora appeared entirely nonchalant, despite the bombshell she was dropping. “Since it happened. Esther helped her, of course. Those two are always in cahoots.”
My hands moved to my hips. “And you?”
“I was too busy with my own family then to get involved,” Aunt Thora said. “I thought it was a terrible idea. You know I always resented them for talking me out of a relationship with Ted O’Neill back in the day.”
All that heartbreak. All that misery. Feelings of not being good enough. Pretty enough. Blonde enough. They were all based on a lie. A hex. The kitchen swayed and I leaned against the island for support.
“I’m surprised you never figured it out.” Aunt Thora continued babbling, seemingly oblivious to the emotional crisis I was on the verge of having. My world had tilted on its axis and my head was too busy spinning.
“Aunt Eden?” Olivia appeared in the kitchen, clutching a zombie doll she called Carol. “Are you upset?”
I fought for breath. “No, I’m fine,” I lied. “I stubbed my toe.”
Olivia cocked her head. “It’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to hide it. Mommy always says that emotions are how we express what we’re feeling and we shouldn’t be ashamed of them.”
Aunt Thora and I gaped at the little girl.
“Well, you didn’t learn it from your daddy, that’s for sure,” Aunt Thora said.
“Thank the gods for Verity,” I added. “Listen, it’s grown-up stuff. Aunt Thora told me something I didn’t know and it was upsetting news, even though it happened a long time ago.”
“Did someone die?” Olivia asked.
“Nothing like that,” I said.
Olivia shoved the doll at me. “Zombies make everything better.” She made the doll kiss me and its head immediately popped off. Somehow that seemed appropriate.
“Thanks, Olivia,” I said.
She managed to snatch the head off the floor before Charlemagne swallowed it. “Aunt Thora, you’ve been acting weird. You don’t usually talk this much. Mommy always says you’re like a polite ghost.”
“No, that would be Alice,” I said. I shifted my focus to my great-aunt. “Have you upped your caffeine intake?” Olivia was right. Aunt Thora seemed more energetic than usual. Now that I thought about it, she’d been chattier than usual all week. I’d been so focused on people like Father Kevin that it hadn’t registered. I realized that even my mother’s unusual issue was likely tied to whatever the supernatural occurrence was.
“No change in my diet,” Aunt Thora said.
Before I could ask anything else, I heard the front door open and my mother’s laughter drifted into the kitchen. I couldn’t handle seeing her right now. I had too much on my plate to waste time on anger and resentment. That confrontation would have to wait.
I glanced at Aunt Thora. “You’re going to tell her I know, aren’t you?”
“Don’t think I could stop myself if I wanted to,” came the honest reply. “I have verbal diarrhea.”
I bent over and kissed Olivia’s head before slipping out the back door to avoid my mother. I walked to the front of the house and continued along the sidewalk until I reached the Graces’ house. There was no answer at the front door so I ventured to their backyard oasis. Aggie sat in an Adirondack chair wearing a wide brimmed sunhat and dark sunglasses. She looked like an aging Audrey Hepburn.
“Aggie?”
“Afternoon, Eden. I’m resting my eyes. Why don’t you have a seat?”
My pulse sped up. “You’re not blind, are you?”
She laughed softly. “Blind? No, dear.” She removed the glasses to show me the sliced cucumber on either closed eyelid. “See? Resting.” She removed the cucumber slices and peered at me. “What’s the matter?”
“Y
ou can tell, huh?”
She smiled sympathetically. “With you? I can always tell. I still remember you barging in here as a little girl with tales of woe. Your expression always gave you away.”
“I used to come here to vent about my family, so I guess that doesn’t surprise me.”
“You and your brother used to fight like vampires and werewolves,” she said. “It’s wonderful that you’ve been able to overcome your differences. I don’t know what I’d do without my sisters.”
“Speaking of sisters…” I swiveled my head to see if Charity or Thalia was within view. “How are they?”
Aggie angled her hat to keep out the shifting sunlight. “Why do I sense an agenda in that simple question?”
I exhaled. “Adele mentioned at the supernatural council meeting that Rosalie was out of sorts.”
“Rosalie LeRoux is always out of sorts.”
“Yes, well. Now she’s blind.”
Aggie stiffened. “Blind? Whatever happened?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. There’s been a spate of uncharacteristic behavior this week—Rosalie included. Then one affected man suffered a heart attack and nearly drowned. Rosalie’s blind.” I hesitated. “You can see where this is going.”
Aggie instinctively glanced toward the house. “Like the chaos demon.”
“Sort of. Maybe.” It wasn’t a chaos demon this time though. The circumstances were too different and that demon was long gone. “You’re hiding something.”
Aggie bit her lip. “My sister. She hasn’t been herself for the past few days and she can’t seem to shake it.”
“In what way?”
“It started as a creative block. You know how she’s always sculpting or painting.” Aggie motioned to a blank canvas on the opposite side of the garden. “She set that out days ago, hoping for inspiration to strike.”
“Obviously nothing did.”
Aggie shook her head. “She’s so depressed that she’s taken to her room and only comes out for meals.”
“At least she’s still eating.”
“I don’t know for how long,” Aggie said. “If she’s suffering like the others, then this could be very bad indeed.”
“Why haven’t you said anything?” I asked.
“I thought she was in a funk,” Aggie said. “It happens every few decades or so. A long life can have that effect.”
I thought of my own immortality. “Does it ever happen to you?”
“Ennui? Naturally, dear. When you live in this world long enough, it’s inevitable. Watch loved ones pass on and leave you behind. It’s not the dream many believe it to be.” She seemed to remember the recent addition to my fury traits. “I’m so sorry, Eden. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ve been interested in the topic for obvious reasons.”
Aggie’s pale cheeks burned pink. “I do apologize, Eden. It was a thoughtless remark. There are so many wonderful reasons to embrace your immortality.”
“The most important one being that I can’t do anything to change it,” I said ruefully. “Honestly, though, I’m not here about that right now. My priority is whatever’s happening to residents like your sister and Rosalie.” Whatever it was, it was impacting humans and supernaturals alike.
Aggie struggled to her feet. “Would you like a drink? I have a lovely herbal tea that Thalia made from the garden.”
“No thanks. Would it be okay if I speak to Charity?” I asked. “I promise I won’t ask too many questions.”
“She’s very lethargic, as you can imagine,” Aggie said. “But I’ll do anything to help her.”
I followed Aggie into the house, through the kitchen, and up a back staircase. She knocked gently on the first door on the left and a tired voice responded.
“Aggie?” she croaked.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here with Eden Fury. She’d like to speak to you about an important matter.”
“Yes, of course.” The reply was clearer, as though she were making an extra effort to seem normal.
Aggie pushed open the door and I entered, completely encompassed by darkness. The shades were drawn and there was no light in the room.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said. “I’m investigating a situation for the FBM and I think you might be…involved.” I resisted the impulse to say ‘a victim’ and make her feel worse than she already did.
Charity’s eyelids fluttered. “Involved?” she asked softly. “You think I’ve inadvertently left a magic trail or something?”
“No, no,” I said. “I don’t mean that you’re responsible.” I perched on the edge of an antique chair next to the bedside table. “I think your current condition is a result of supernatural activity and I’m trying to pinpoint the cause.”
Charity’s relief was palpable. “I thought it was depression. It happens every now and again, although not very often. I just couldn’t decide whether my creativity was blocked because of depression or the other way around.”
I reached over and squeezed her arm. “I don’t think it’s either one. I think you’ve been influenced by an external force.”
Charity lifted her head off the pillow. “Depression is very much like a demon sitting on your chest. Are you sure?”
“Others have been impacted differently,” I said. “I’m trying to understand the connections and locate the source. I understand you were on the Chesapeake this past weekend for a party.”
“Yes, the Gunnars. You think it might be something in the water?”
“Not necessarily, but several of those affected were on or near the water earlier this week.” That didn’t explain Clara or Aunt Thora, though. To my knowledge, neither of them had been on the water or at the marina recently. At the thought of Clara, my chest tightened. Clara had ended our friendship so abruptly. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her before I could fix it.
“There was nothing strange about the party,” Charity said. “Everyone seemed normal and I didn’t sense anything amiss.”
“What about Rosalie LeRoux?”
Charity coughed. “She’s always amiss.”
I couldn’t argue with that assessment. “Can you think of anything out of the ordinary that you encountered this week, before your creativity stalled?”
Charity propped herself up by resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. “Nothing unusual. This week was my typical routine. Advised a few clients. Met a friend for lunch in town.”
“What about the rest of the weekend?”
Charity’s eyes rolled upward as she pondered the question. “I went out to dinner with a friend. We went to a few bars afterward. She’s single and looking to mingle.” A faint smile passed her lips.
“You’re single,” I pointed out. “You didn’t want to mingle?”
Charity flopped back onto the pillow. “I’d much rather sculpt or paint. Geriatric men don’t really do it for me.”
“No wizards or warlocks?” I asked. “No magic users that may have targeted you?”
Charity squirmed under the sheet. “No. Just rowdy humans. Svetlana talked to a couple of them, but I stayed at the table. They’d had too much to drink to be worthy of conversation. Then again, nothing seems worthy of anything to me these days.”
“Thanks for your help, Charity. I hope you get your hands dirty in the clay again soon.”
The Grace sister stared blankly at the ceiling, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Me too, Eden.”
Chapter Sixteen
Neville and I were in the middle of drafting a list of all the people and supernaturals that seemed impacted and what their behavioral changes were when an impatient knock at the door interrupted us.
“Add the name Gloria to the list,” I said, walking to answer the door.
“Wait. What if it’s a Jehovah’s Witness?” Neville asked.
“Why would it be a Jehovah’s Witness? This is an office.”
“Bring a piece of candy,” Neville called.
“I have to talk to you about Clara,” Sassy said. She brushed past me and barged straight into the office.
Neville shot me an anxious look, but I ignored him. I couldn’t get rid of Sassy easily without raising suspicion.
“Unfortunately, Clara and I aren’t on speaking terms at the moment,” I said.
“I know, and now neither are we,” Sassy said. “She said awful things about Tanner and I just couldn’t listen to another word. She sounded so heartless. It’s not like her.” Sassy seemed to notice the office for the first time. “Pretty shabby for the FBI. I guess this is what a government budget can afford.”
I returned to the computer. “As it happens, Neville and I are in the midst of an assignment right now. I’d be happy to commiserate about Clara later…”
“And here I thought you were the one knocked out of alignment,” Sassy continued, ignoring my polite hint. “I think you both need to come to Francine’s special yoga class and sort yourselves out. Between her fourth chakra and your…” She gave me the once-over. “All your chakras, you could both use it. A few low lunges for Clara and a complete body transplant for you and we can all be friends again.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I said. “I thought you said my spine was out of alignment.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s true based on your posture, but I was referring to chakras.”
“Chakras?” I repeated. The things they talked about in yoga class that made my eyes glaze over whenever they were mentioned?
Sassy rolled her eyes. “The energy centers in our bodies that control our qualities. If the chakras aren’t balanced, then our inner self can’t be at peace. Do you just take naps with your eyes open during yoga or what?”
“Sassy, thank you so much for stopping by and expressing your concern,” I said. I practically pushed her out the door.
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