by Lexi George
Thank God for Dalvahni woo-woo.
Monday morning Jeb Hannah still sat on the lawn in all his headless glory. The migrating statue had become something of a local sensation and a tourist attraction for folks as far as Montgomery. The mayor had contacted the state highway department about moving Jeb, but it would be two weeks before the heavy equipment arrived. In the meantime, the Hannah police were hard-pressed to keep the gawkers out of Muddy’s front yard. People walked through the flower beds, picnicked on the lawn, and rang the doorbell to offer advice on the proper way to move Jeb or to volunteer their theories on Jeb’s mysterious un-statue-like behavior. Everything from giant earthworms and the shifting of the Earth on its axis was suggested. Addy’s personal favorites involved inebriated leprechauns and radioactive mice.
Addy waved at the family of four who stood on the sidewalk taking pictures of Headless Jeb when she left for the flower shop early Monday morning. Brand went with her, of course. She hadn’t suggested otherwise. The thought of going to the shop alone gave her the creeps. She’d worked hard to make her little business a success. Now, thanks to a supernatural thug with an attitude, she was scared to go to her own shop. That ticked her off and made her want to kick some demon booty.
On the other hand, although the demon thing was getting on her nerves, if the demon went, then so did Brand. And that thought was unbearable. So maybe her best hope was that things did not get resolved. That way, Brand would stay in Hannah, and they’d live happily ever after and have hot monkey sex forever and ever, amen.
Yeah, right. Like that would happen.
Maybe they didn’t have forever, but they had last night. They made love all night, and without an audience, thanks to Brand’s magic. Muddy had seemed kind of disappointed, to tell the truth.
“You sleep well, Mr. Dalvahni?” she asked that morning.
Addy cringed, but all Brand said was, “I slept a little, Edmuntina.”
True, strictly speaking. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms near daybreak.
“Me, too. Quiet as a graveyard around here.” Muddy eyed Addy. “What about you, girl? You sleep well?”
“Like a rock.”
The moment she said it, Addy knew she was in trouble. She felt Mr. Literal’s gaze upon her and tensed. Didn’t she know better than to fib around him? She was so busted.
“I do not understand the reference, Adara,” he said. “Why do you say you slept like a rock? Rocks do not sleep.”
“It’s an idiom, Brand. A figure of speech.”
“I see,” he said. “You use a rock for comparison, because they do not meet the scientific definition of a living thing in this reality as they do not move, think, grow, consume or react to stimuli. This lack of interaction with the environment, I take it, is interpreted as being in a very deep sleep.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“But, Adara, you did not sleep like a rock. You—”
“Oh, no you don’t! No, sir!” she shrieked. “Do not go there, bub. So help me, I mean it.”
“Don’t go where?” Muddy suddenly looked very interested. “Did I miss something?”
“As I was about to say, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Brand said, an expression of bland innocence on his face, “I do not think Adara slept like a rock, because she got up early this morning and prepared a sumptuous repast of scrambled eggs and strawberry Poop Tarts.”
“Pop tarts,” Addy muttered. “I haven’t been to the store. It’s all we had.”
Muddy looked disappointed. “Well, I guess I’d better get busy. I’ve got a wedding to plan.”
Leaving Muddy to her own devices, Addy and Brand went to the flower shop. Addy punched in the security code on the back door and entered the supply room behind Brand. She looked around in surprise. From the way the panic-stricken demon had bumped and thrashed around on his way out Saturday night, she expected the supply closet to be a mess. But nothing seemed out of place. The front room would be a different story, thanks to Ghouly Farris and the Human Torch trashing the place. She worried her bottom lip. She’d have to call Ned Farnsworth down at Bama Farms and check her coverage. Maybe she should call the police first to report the damage. But what would she tell them? Not the truth, that was for sure. Vandalism? Nah, nobody in Hannah would vandalize her shop. Opossums? But what about the holes in the floor? A passel of rabid flame-throwing opossums from outer space? Yeah, that was more like it.
So much for calling the police.
Bracing herself, she stepped into the show room. She gazed about in stunned disbelief. No mess, no blood, no broken vases or display racks, no icky stench of cooked dead dude hanging about the place. And no holes in the linoleum floor. Everything in order.
“How?” she asked, unable to manage anything more coherent.
Brand, bless him, seemed to understand. “Ansgar.”
“Blondy did this?”
He nodded. Great, she thought with an inward groan. She owed the frozen hemorrhoid another one. Her cup runneth over.
She flipped the CLOSED sign to open, booted up the computer, and checked her messages. She was working on the flower arrangements for the upcoming monthly meeting of the Purple Hoo-Hah Club, a supper club of rowdy, cigar-smoking whiskey-slugging older women who Chief Davis proclaimed a “frigging nuisance,” when the bell chimed and Evie and Ansgar strolled in. Evie looked different. She looked . . .
She knew that look, that dewy, glowing, multiple-orgasm look. She’d seen it this morning when she looked in the mirror. Blondy and her best friend had been canoodling.
Addy stiffened. “Oh, no he didn’t.”
Brand put his hand on her shoulder. “Leave it alone, Adara. It is not your affair.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“And he is my brother. I believe Ansgar has strong feelings for Mistress Evangeline. I have not known him to act thus before with a human.”
“So help me, if he hurts her—”
“Morning,” Evie said, not looking at Addy. “We thought we’d check and see how you two were doing.” She glanced shyly at Brand. “Ansgar said you weren’t feeling like yourself last night, Mr. Dalvahni. Are you all right?”
“I am fully recovered, Mistress Evangeline. And call me Brand.”
Evie blushed. “All right, but only if you call me Evie.”
Brand smiled at her. “Very well, Evie.”
“I’m starving,” Addy announced. “Why don’t you two guys slide on down to the Sweet Shop and get us something to eat?”
“Adara, you have already broken your fast,” Brand said.
“I’m hungry again. So sue me.”
“I will not leave you unaccompanied. It is too dangerous with the djegrali about.”
“Ahem,” Ansgar said. “Brother, I believe the females would like to converse alone. The usual protective spells and a guardian should suffice for the short time we will be gone.”
“I do not like it,” Brand said. “Trouble has a way of finding Adara.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, leave the stupid guardian and go,” Addy said. “Blondy’s right for once. Girlfriend and I need to talk.”
“Very well.” Brand’s expression grew distant. “Stop aggravating that poor creature and make yourself useful,” he said, speaking to someone unseen.
Mr. Fluffy materialized with a sharp metallic ping! The kitten meowed and fluttered around Brand’s head.
Evie squealed in delight. “A fairy cat! I haven’t seen one of those since your Aunt Etheline died.”
“Mr. Fluffy is your idea of a guardian?” Addy said. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“The fae have many talents,” Brand said. “But if you feel unsafe with Mr. Fluffy . . .”
“No, no, that’s all right.” Addy watched the kitten make a circuit around the shop. “Mr. Fluffy will be fine.”
“Very well.” Brand held out his arm, and Mr. Fluffy landed on his wrist. He addressed the cat sternly. “Ansgar and I have to leave for a short time. You will remain
here and guard Adara and Evangeline while we are gone. Understood?”
“Meow.”
“Good. You will alert us at the first hint of trouble. Do not attempt to engage the djegrali on your own. If other humans arrive, disguise yourself. Is that clear?”
“Meow.”
Brand put the cat down on the counter. He leaned over and gave Addy a hard kiss. “We will return shortly. You should be safe here for the time being. Do not leave this place.”
He strode to the door and looked at Ansgar over his shoulder. “Brother?”
Ansgar nodded. He tugged Evie into his arms and kissed her. “To hold the taste of you in my memory until I return,” he murmured, releasing her.
Evie watched him leave, a goofy grin on her face.
“Hello, Earth to Evie.” Addy waved her hand in Evie’s face. “Spill it, girl. What’s going on with you and Blondy?”
“He has a name, Addy. It’s Ansgar.”
Addy rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right. What’s up with you and Ansgar?”
Evie blushed rosily. “Oh, Addy, I’m so happy!”
“You and Blondy had sex, didn’t you?”
“Addy!”
“Well, didn’t you? Sorry to be so blunt, but I don’t have time to beat around the bush, if you’ll excuse the pun. Brand is Mr. Over Protective. He won’t stay gone long.”
Evie walked over to her display table and made a business of straightening her soaps. “Yes, to answer your question, and it was wonderful. More wonderful than I could have imagined.” She whirled around, her lips trembling. “I didn’t expect to feel this way. I’m so happy and . . . and, at the same time, terrified. What am I going to do, Addy?”
Addy hurried across the room and gave Evie a quick hug. “I know how you feel. It’s been a crazy couple of days.”
Evie chuckled and wiped her eyes. “You can say that again. Remember how we used to moan and groan about nothing happening in Hannah? We sure can’t say that anymore.” She gave Addy a curious look. “What about you? Have you and Brand . . . uh, you know?”
“Yep, we have definitely ‘you know-ed.’ And, that’s all I’m going to say about it, except that I’m crazy about the big jerk and I don’t know how I’m going to stand it when he leaves.”
Evie sighed. “I know what you mean.”
“Evie, I have so much to tell you. Muddy’s back in town. And you were absolutely right. I shouldn’t have gone off alone. Ghouly Farris was waiting for me, and Brand turned into a fire monster and there was a big fight and he pulled Dwight’s head off, and the two of them wrecked the shop.”
Evie blinked. “Slow down, Addy. Dwight Farris was waiting for you? Here?”
Addy nodded and launched into a condensed version of all that had happened since Saturday afternoon, telling Evie about the demon attack and Brand going berserk, and Ansgar repairing the damage to her shop.
“And when I got up yesterday morning, Muddy was sitting in the living room and Mr. Fluffy was a flying cat, and Jebediah Hannah was on the front lawn,” she said, winding things up. “The demon cut Jeb’s head off and left him as some kind of sick-o demon message that he’s not through with me.” Addy shivered. “The police are at Muddy’s guarding Old Jeb until the folks downtown can figure out how to move him. Oh, and Dan Curtis has a crush on me—how weird is that?—and Muddy and Mr. Collier have secretly been in love with each other for thirty years, and Mr. C has quit drinking because he knows the demons are real and he’s not crazy, and he and Muddy are getting married.” She took a deep breath and blew it out again. “There. I think that’s about it.”
Evie stared at her openmouthed. “Wow that was some weekend.”
“Meow.” Crossing his front paws, the fairy cat assumed a wide, fake grin and turned into a figurine.
“How ’bout that? Mr. Fluffy has made himself a bobble head. What do you think it means?” Evie’s eyes grew round, and she grabbed Addy by the arm. “Oh, my goodness, Addy, what if it’s the demon. What do we do?”
Addy looked out the window with a feeling of dread. “It’s a demon, all right,” she said.
The bell on the front door jingled angrily, and the Death Starr walked in.
Chapter Twenty-six
Meredith waddled up and slammed her purse down on the counter. Mr. Fluffy’s head bobbed up and down.
“Hey, watch what you’re doing.” Addy laid a protective hand over the kitten. “This is a very special bobble head, I’ll have you know.”
“I don’t give a hoot in Hades about your tacky little bobble head, Addy Jean Corwin. You take this curse off me.”
“No idea what you’re talking about, Meredith.” Addy looked her up and down. “Nice muu-muu, by the way. Living on the edge though, aren’t we? I mean, going around town in a housecoat. You know how big Trey is on appearances.”
“Don’t you dare make fun of me!” Meredith fidgeted with the front of the hot pink terrycloth bag she wore. “I hate you! It’s all your fault I have to wear this ugly old thing. Nothing else is comfortable, because of the . . . the . . .”
“Gi-normous bumps on your butt?” Addy widened her eyes at Meredith. “Humongous boils on your backside?”
Meredith pounded her fist on the counter, and Mr. Fluffy’s head moved crazily up and down. “I can’t stand it! I can’t sleep. I can’t sit down. Make it go away, or I’ll ruin you. So help me, I will, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Addy raised her brows. “Listen to what you’re saying, Meredith. You’re blaming me because you got pimples on your butt. That’s crazy.”
“You did this because you’re jealous.”
“Jealous? Of what?”
“Of me. That I married Trey and you didn’t. You’ve hated me since I took him away from you in high school.”
Addy laughed. “That’s funny. Sorry to burst your bubble, Meredith, but I don’t want Trey. I lost interest in him when I caught the two of you boning in the backseat of his car. What I do want is an apology. Tell Evie you’re sorry you were so rude to her, and I’ll bet your little—er—dermatological problem goes away.”
Meredith slid Evie a venomous look. “Apologize to that disgusting pig? I’d sooner eat roadkill.”
Addy shrugged. “Suit yourself. But I think I should warn you that spite is a very negative emotion. Poisons the whole system. Why, there’s no telling where you might break out next.”
Meredith’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you threaten me, Addy Corwin. You fix this, or I’ll make you sorry you were born.”
“Sorry, no can do.” Addy propped her elbows on the counter. “Say, Meredith, what’s that on your face? You getting your period? ’Cause it looks like Zit City from here.”
Meredith’s hands flew to her face. “No! What have you done?”
Hobbling over to a mirror, she stared at her reflection in horror. Dozens of angry-looking red pimples erupted on her once flawless skin. A huge ugly bump swelled on the end of her nose and burst.
“Eww, that’s gross.” Addy shook her head. “Negativity is a very destructive emotion. Gosh, wouldn’t it be terrible if you got a zit on your face for every time you’ve been ugly to Evie? Why, that would mean hundreds of zits, maybe thousands! I’d work on that negativity if I were you. Try and find your happy place.”
“I’ll get you for this, Addy Corwin!” Meredith raged. “And you, too, Whaley Douglass.” She looked around the room and spied Evie’s neatly arranged wares on a nearby display table. Stomping over, she swept her arm across the tabletop, scattering soaps and lotions and scented oils onto the floor. “I’ll get you both for this, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Turning on her heel, she stalked across the room. She snatched Mr. Fluffy off the counter and hurled him against the wall. He bounced off with a muted squeak and took flight. Spreading his wings, the furious kitten dive-bombed her like a crazed mockingbird protecting its nest.
“What is that thing? Go away!” Meredith shrieked and batted at the flying cat. “Make it go away!”
/> “I told you not to mess with the merchandise,” Addy said.
Mr. Fluffy made another swoop, and the Death Starr ran screaming out the door.
The enemy routed, the outraged kitten spit and burbled like a kettle, then settled back down on the counter.
Addy gently stroked his fur. “Mr. Fluffy, I owe you an apology. You are a magnificent guardian.”
“Meow,” Mr. Fluffy said, and vanished.
The air shimmered and Ansgar and Brand appeared, weapons drawn.
Brand looked around. “I heard a noise. Is something amiss?”
“Addy put the whammy on the Death Starr,” Evie said in tones of awe. “It was so cool.”
Brand frowned. “I do not understand. Explain.”
“Meredith came in acting all ugly and stuff and Addy gave her what for.” Evie giggled. “You should have seen the way Meredith walked.”
“Like a constipated duck,” Addy said.
“Quack, quack.” Evie’s eyes brimmed with laughter. “Oh, I know it’s mean of me to laugh, but it was so funny.”
Brand visibly relaxed. “Ah, I see. The unpleasant female with the viperous tongue was here. Adara, it does not behoove you to use your abilities to torment humans.”
Addy snorted. “Meredith isn’t human. Besides, she had it coming. She’s been hateful to Evie since the seventh grade.”
“Do not be too hard on Adara, brother.” Ansgar put his arm around Evie. “I remember the creature. She is most unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant?” Addy repeated. “That’s an understatement. She’s a giant, moon-size carbuncle on the ass end of mankind, that’s what she is. Now, where’s my food?”
Brand re-sheathed his sword. “I regret to say that in our haste to return we did not obtain sustenance.”
“Damn,” Addy said. “Whammying the Death Starr gives me the munchies.”
Evie and Ansgar stayed behind to mind the flower shop while Addy attended the Farris funeral at 10:30 Monday morning. Generally, she avoided such things like the plague, but this was one dead guy she wanted to personally see put in the ground. And she was nervous about the whole mutilated corpse thing. What if Shep hadn’t been able to reattach Dwight’s head? She imagined Shirley running around Corwin’s, her husband’s severed head dangling from one plump, pink hand, and his . . .
