Mr. Peabody's House

by Eve Langlais

  Dale shook his head. “Nothing was found. The forensics the cops ran came up empty. The wizards who combed the spot didn’t find shit either.”

  “I doubt a demon set an explosive charge,” Mike remarked. “If”—and his tone made it sound doubtful— “a demon is involved, he’d probably use magic.”

  “If we assume the demon or whoever is killing those witches didn’t set it, then who did?” Sebastian asked.

  Dale shrugged. “No idea. Nor can we ascertain a motive.”

  “If there is an actual demon walking around, then the person that summoned it is probably the one fucking with us. But why?”

  “Why else other than to ensure they can conquer the world?” Sebastian uttered an evil “muahahahaha” that his friends didn’t find funny at all.

  He’d wager Brenda would have, though. She had a great sense of humor.

  And a banging body.

  “What I still don’t get is, why call a demon? I mean it’s not like you can exactly order them around. Or keep them as a pet.”

  “Are you suddenly a demon expert?” Mike asked sarcastically.

  “No, but I did do some research. By all indications, they are vicious killing machines with a thirst for blood.”

  “Witch blood,” Mike corrected.

  “And flesh.” Sebastian shuddered, recalling the crime scene photos of the murders. Even when he went full wolf and hunted, he drew the line at eating his kills raw. It was why he kept a camping stove and a box full of spices in the trunk of his car.

  “Again, hypothetically speaking, if we are dealing with a demon, how do you kill it?” Mike asked.

  Dale rolled his shoulders. “No idea. I imagine if it’s flesh and blood then decapitation will probably work.”

  “Or will it just grow a new head?” Sebastian played devil’s advocate.

  “I’m sure the wizards will know,” was Dale’s reply.

  Knowing Pete, he’d probably already contacted them as soon as they found out about the creature.

  “They might know, but it doesn’t mean they’ll tell anyone,” Mike said with a snort.

  Wizards were the more learned version of witches. In other words, they went to a university for magic, whereas witches learned their craft in the kitchen using a plain old pot on a stove instead of a fancy cauldron. Only rarely did humans ever get invited to learn at their prestigious schools, mostly because pure-bred humans had no magic.

  What did this mean? If a human had magic, then chances were someone in their family had banged an elf or someone else strong in power like a dryad or a djinn.

  Also, contrary to popular belief, magic didn’t work with a simple wave of the hand like the stories claimed. A true witch’s or wizard’s power came from potions and incantations. Ritualistic mumbo jumbo that influenced forces they couldn’t see.

  In other words, weird shit that people really shouldn’t meddle with.

  The upstairs had grown silent, Brenda having given up cursing and pleading for them to let her go. Or had she managed to escape?

  Sebastian wouldn’t put it past her. For a petite thing, she possessed a lot of gumption. Still, though, tying her up did seem rather harsh, but Dale did have a point. Short of sitting on her, how could they prevent her from leaving?

  Locking her in a room wouldn’t work. The windows would provide escape to someone determined.

  Sitting and staring at her would have driven them all bat-shit crazy. Mike might have tried to kill her if she started asking him more dog questions.

  So, they’d tied her up.

  Left her helpless, and alone. What if something came through the window?

  Sebastian stood. “Maybe we should check on Brenda.”

  “Good idea. I’ll go.” Dale strode to the stairs and took them two at a time. He didn’t come back down.

  Sebastian’s plan to appear as the good guy having backfired, he paced the living room.

  “Do you think we’ll get a chance to fight the demon or whatever it is hunting the witches?” he asked Mike.

  “Are you that anxious to scar up that pretty face?”

  “Look who’s calling who pretty. I saw the phone number that female cop shoved at you when you were checking shit out at that crime scene.”

  Mike made a face. “Bloody humans looking to slum.” Mike really had little patience with non-Lycans.

  Perhaps Sebastian wouldn’t have to worry about him chasing Brenda after all.

  “What do you think Dale’s doing up there?” he asked, staring at the ceiling.

  “Maybe he’s getting his balls handed to him.” Mike growled the words and clenched his fists.

  “Maybe I should go help him.”

  “Why not admit you just want to spy on the blonde?”

  “Why spy when I can openly look? Unlike you and Dale, I’m not afraid to say I think she’s hot.”

  “Until she opens her mouth.”

  “She’s forthright.”

  “Rude.”

  “Gee, kind of reminds me of someone I know.” Sebastian’s pointed look at Mike only made him scowl.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “I’m going to check on Dale.”

  Taking the steps a pair at a time, Sebastian hit the second floor and stopped. Dale sat in front of the door to his bedroom, the room they’d stashed Brenda in.

  “What’s up, boss? Is the girl all right?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Then why do you look like someone gave you shitty news?”

  Dale shrugged. “Guess I’m feeling a little guilty.”

  “A little?” Sebastian slid down the wall to sit across from him.

  “Maybe tying her to the bed was a bit harsh.”

  “She did try to leave, as well as attempt to emasculate you and Mike.”

  Dale shrugged. “Can you blame her?”

  Not really. “What are we going to do about her?”

  “Noth—” Dale stopped mid-word and pulled out his phone, which vibrated with fierce urgency.

  Signaling to Sebastian, they headed away from the door before answering.

  It was Pete with news about the demon.

  And a warning.

  3

  When my captors entered, I woke instantly. Sue me for napping. I was tired and obviously not going anywhere—or getting any action.

  As they clomped into the room, I glared at Dale, the man responsible for me being tied up like a heifer. “Come to torture me some more?”

  “Only if you deserve it.”

  I gaped because the prick didn’t even deny it. “Jerk. What happened to you promising Pete you’d protect me?”

  “We did. And you’ll be glad to know Pete just called to say we’re clear.”

  “What?”

  “What he means to say,” Sebastian interjected, “is the demon was killed.”

  Dale picked up the story. “Pete and Anthony managed to keep the creature busy, and a collective of senior wizards destroyed it.”

  The wizard thing really begged for more questions, but I had a more pressing query. “So, Chloe is safe?” Which then led my brain to the realization that, “I can go home?”

  “Yes, you can leave.” Dale inclined his head, and his two henchmen circled to either side of the bed to release me.

  As soon as I was free, I bounced to my feet, shouting, “Freedom!”

  And then I launched myself at Dale.

  He caught me instead of dropping me or hitting the floor, which, I will admit, was super hot. I wrapped my legs around him, but instead of plastering him with kisses, I hit him.

  A lot. While haranguing him.

  He deserved it.

  Tying me up.

  Leaving me alone.

  He didn’t defend himself, just sighed as Mike and Sebastian peeled me off him.

  “Asshole. I hope you get a rash and have to wear a cone for a month. No, make that a year,” I yelled as they dragged me out of the room.

  “I don’t get rashes,” he replie
d, his calm demeanor annoying me further.

  “I hope you get bitten by a rabid squirrel.”

  “You already tried, kitten. You couldn’t even break skin.”

  Oooh, insult me, would he?

  “Let me at him.” I pulled, but the guys held me firmly.

  “What should we do with her?” Mike asked.

  Well, given their actions, they wouldn’t be doing me.

  I stopped struggling. “I am going home now.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  The offer came from Sebastian, the same guy who’d helped tie me up.

  The size of his erection for me couldn’t erase that fact.

  “No, thank you. I’ll take a cab home.”

  “I’ll drive.” Dale grabbed his keys. He didn’t hold on to them for long, seeing as how I kicked them out of his hand.

  “I don’t want to be anywhere near you guys.” I might be desperate for love, but I had some self-respect. And pride wouldn’t let me accept anything from these dogs. “If you’ll give me my purse, I can handle things from here.”

  “But—”

  A sharp look from Dale and Sebastian bit back what Mike planned to say.

  My arms were released, and my purse handed to me, along with my shoes.

  I didn’t look any of them in the eyes as I prepared to leave. I didn’t need them trying to con me with their puppy faces.

  Obviously, any fantasy I’d had about getting with one or all of them wasn’t happening. Best to leave now while I had a shred of dignity.

  Leaving with class didn’t stop my parting shot. “Don’t forget, summer is coming. Better visit your vet for your heartworm pills.”

  And with that, I slammed the door shut.

  Dale didn’t come running out to drag me back in.

  Mike didn’t insist I apologize or accuse me of rudeness.

  Even Sebastian didn’t come loping after me with his tongue lolling.

  I knew how to deal with my old friend disappointment. I fed it the chocolate bar stashed in my purse.

  The ride home didn’t take long, a regular cab showing up before I could even whip out my phone to call for one. A taxi dropped off some staggering folks at a house across the way, and I hopped in before it could take off.

  The driver was more than happy to help me, his kind smile easing my bruised ego. A pity he was at least sixty years old and, according to his ring finger, married.

  As soon as I got to my place, I tackled my persistent disappointment with food. I ate a pair of waffles—blueberry leggo-my-Eggo kind. Showered. Ate two more waffles, plain but smothered in Cheez Whiz. All the while, I tried to see how I’d gone wrong.

  Wrong times three. How had I gone from starting last night in the presence of three eligible men—or so I assumed, I’d never confirmed their relationship status or sexuality—to alone, and unmolested.

  Not that any of it mattered. Guys who thought they could just manhandle me—fully clothed and without offering a happy ending—didn’t merit a second chance.

  A girl had to have some standards. Now, if only my prideful stance didn’t leave me feeling a little down.

  I needed to talk to someone who’d totally be on my side. I needed my BFF.

  When Chloe answered, though, I first asked her, “Holy fuck, what happened last night? I hear the demon got cremated.”

  “Oh my gawd, Brenda,” Chloe squealed. “It was the scariest fucking thing.”

  I twirled a length of blonde hair as Chloe told me about her most excellent demon adventure.

  It turned out Pete’s neighbor’s cat was the demon, and it came after Chloe, intent on making her its victim.

  “It came right after me, Brenda. And it had huge fangs.”

  It sounded terrifying. Panty wetting in a urine kind of way, and yet…when Chloe recounted how her lovers came to her rescue and literally tore pieces out of the demon determined to eat her, I couldn’t help but sigh.

  “You’re so lucky.”

  “Lucky to be alive,” she grumbled.

  “Lucky because you found two guys who love you enough to face a minion of Hell.”

  “Anthony says Hell doesn’t exist.” Anthony being her vampire lover who worked as a district attorney.

  Did I mention he was fucking hot? My best friend had hit the boyfriend jackpot.

  “Hell might not exist, but apparently, demons do so I’m going to call bullshit on his answer,” I argued because I wasn’t about to agree with anything a man said today. Changing the subject, I asked, “How are you doing?” Because, despite the happy ending to her adventure, I could hear a hint of hysteria in her voice.

  “Oh, you know, feeling a little off-kilter, what with a demon wanting to kill me and then my boyfriends turning into monsters and eating the demon instead.”

  “Monsters?”

  Chloe sighed. “Wrong choice of words. They’re not monsters. But it was scary seeing what they could do, Brenda. I mean, you hear about werewolves, but seeing one go all primitive, and then Anthony getting all fanged up…”

  “Kind of freaked you out?” I prodded. “Made you feel all too human?”

  I could kind of relate.

  “I know it’s crazy. I mean, I love them, and they love me. Who cares if they have special powers?”

  Judging by the tone of her voice, it bothered her. “Are you scared of them?”

  It took Chloe a moment before she replied. “No. I’m not.” Then more strongly. “They would never hurt me.”

  “If they wouldn’t hurt you, then why are you being stupid?” I didn’t hesitate to tell her. I’d never seen Chloe more alive and happy than with these two guys. The fact that they were different than she was shouldn’t make a difference.

  “I am being stupid, aren’t I?” She laughed. “Everything has changed so much so fast that I think I’m still adjusting to it all.”

  “They love your skanky ass, so get over it.” What remained unsaid was if those guys ever harmed a hair on Chloe’s head, I’d wreak vengeance the likes of which they would never forget.

  “Enough about me, what about you? I saw those three hotties you went off with last night. If I wasn’t already hooked up…”

  I would have arm wrestled Chloe for them. “Admit it, you are super jealous I was kidnapped by three werewolves.”

  “Did you have a good time?”

  Admitting the truth meant shattering Chloe’s perception that I was a woman of the world, a femme fatale. I wasn’t ready for that yet. “We had a howling good time. Even indulged in a little bondage.”

  My BFF laughed. “You are incorrigible, Brenda.”

  “I know.” Now, if only I were more loveable, then I wouldn’t be hitting the singles bars looking for love and coming home alone.

  I should get myself a puppy. A real furry one that would love me unconditionally.

  It might help me to not pine over the dogs that had not once tried to hump my leg or lick my lips—upper or lower, I wouldn’t have cared.

  4

  A few weeks passed, and the werewolves didn’t chase me down to give me a nibble, not even a single crotch sniff.

  No more demons were sighted.

  Not a single feline became possessed—although I had my suspicions about the cat lady on the third floor.

  Life returned to normal.

  Yay. Did you catch the huge amount of sarcasm in there?

  Sighing, I tossed yet another ball of paper at the waste basket and missed. My level of boredom had hit epic heights. Part of it had to do with my best friend being busy with her boyfriends—doing the naked tango and couples dinners and probably shopping for matching shirts.

  My spare time lately involved watching a lot of Netflix, trolling social media, cursing at Candy Crush, and eating. Going to work and the grocery store were probably the most exciting things I had going, and of the two, working as part of the secretarial pool had lost its shine.

  It didn’t take much effort to blame the tedious job—type, type, answer the pho
ne, type some more, and file—but the real truth was that ever since that bit of excitement a few weeks ago with the demon stalking Chloe—the lucky bitch—I’d found myself less than content.

  And, no, my doldrums had nothing to do with the three guys I’d met a few weeks ago, who never once tried to call.

  Who cared about three jerks who couldn’t see what an amazing catch I was? A better catch than any tennis ball, I might add.

  Their loss.

  Bastards.

  However, they had nothing to do with my lack of desire to sort three piles of paper into neat bundles and staple them in the corners.

  I wanted more excitement in my life.

  No, make that needed something to give me a reason to bounce out of bed and have my neighbor below me pound on the ceiling with her cane.

  With that thought in mind, I flounced into my BFF’s office—at the boring old department of justice building downtown—just before the whistle blew—a real one that I programmed as an alarm on my phone and that I’d filched from The Flintstones.

  “Life blows hairy donkey balls,” I announced, flopping into the chair in front of Chloe’s desk.

  Her office space wasn’t much better than mine. We both had standard-issue government desks with wobbly legs, and drawers that stuck, but where she’d gotten shoved into a tiny cubicle of an office, I was at least out in the secretarial pen. Think of a bunch of cattle in a square, sitting at desks, pretending to look busy, and you’d have us—with less mooing but more cackling.

  Although the us was getting more masculine by the month. The shortage of bodies with a pair of X chromosomes meant more and more women chose to stay home, have babies, and let their husbands—yes, I said that in plural—take care of them.

  Everyone wanted to do their part rebuilding the world’s female population—and cash in on the tax breaks.

  Except for me.

  Even my BFF Chloe had finally succumbed to a pair of hunks crazy about her, and I imagined it wouldn’t be long before she announced she was pregnant with a litter of puppies.

  I couldn’t wait to present her with a T-shirt that said Future Dictator and had an arrow pointing at her belly. Studies said if you raised a kid to think big things, they would do big things.