Hell Hath No Fury

by Annabel Chase

  The toddler dug around in his pocket and produced a half-eaten cookie. He held it up to Grandma in his sticky, chubby hand. A peace offering.

  “Great-Grandma can’t eat that right now, sweetheart,” Verity said, “but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind saving it for later.”

  The longer Grandma kept her gaze fixed on Ryan, the calmer she seemed. Finally, she reached out and accepted the cookie. Ryan gurgled his delight and clapped his hands. Grandma gave my mother a parting glance as she left the room, still clutching the broken cookie.

  The tension in the room dissolved.

  Tomas leaned against Uncle Moyer. “Fabulous. He’s a Witch Whisperer.”

  Now that Grandma had retreated to her room, my mother perked up. She clearly felt that she’d won the battle, but I was more worried about the war.

  “Who’s hungry?” my mother asked. “Those of us with working mouths should eat.” She practically skipped over to the table and planted herself in the head chair.

  Olivia climbed into the seat adjacent to hers. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  My mother seemed taken aback. “Well, Olivia. I’m a witch. Not everything I do will be nice.”

  “Why can’t you be a white witch?” Olivia asked. “They’re nice. And they sparkle.”

  My mother glared at Verity. “What kind of nonsense are you teaching this child?”

  Verity shot a guilty look at Anton. “Olivia’s in school, don’t forget. She’s exposed to a lot of different ideas.”

  My mother leaned forward so that her face was close to Olivia’s. “This family is not in the business of being nice. Do you understand?”

  Olivia appeared unfazed by my mother’s intimidation tactic. “Why not?”

  “Why not?” my mother sputtered. She reeled back, surprised by the question.

  “Why can’t we be nice?” Olivia pressed. “Does it hurt us?”

  My chest ached with hope. I knew my parents were keen to have Olivia and Ryan embrace the dark side of supernatural life, but they were showing signs of rebellion at young ages. It was encouraging to witness.

  “Because we are powerful supernaturals,” my mother said. “We use black magic because it’s the most potent.”

  “What does potent mean?” Olivia asked.

  “Powerful,” Verity said.

  Olivia folded her arms in a huff. “Then I don’t want to be powerful. I want to be the opposite. Unpotent.”

  “Impotent,” Anton corrected her and immediately turned a shade of red.

  “Oh, you don’t want that,” Uncle Moyer interjected.

  “Nobody wants that,” Tomas chimed in.

  My mother narrowed her eyes at Verity. “This has your sappy druid fingerprints all over it.”

  Anton swooped into the chair across the table. “Mother, we don’t need to assign blame…”

  My mother’s head swiveled toward him. “How are these kids going to survive in the world if they’re hellbent on being nice?” She hissed at the word ‘nice,’ as though the mere mention of it burned her tongue.

  “We’re not having this discussion right now,” Anton said. “We came over for a pleasant family dinner. If you’re going to have a meltdown over the way we’re choosing to raise our kids, we’ll go home and enjoy our dinner in peace and quiet.”

  My mother slammed a hand on the table. “A-ha! So you are choosing to raise them this way. I knew it.”

  Anton rolled his eyes. “Don’t twist my words.”

  “By the devil, you’re a vengeance demon,” she seethed. “What’s the matter with you? We didn’t raise you to care about others’ feelings. I told your father it was a mistake to let you attend public school. We should have sent you to boarding school in Otherworld.”

  I shuddered at the thought. What kind of fury would I have become if I’d grown up in Otherworld? Probably the kind that got hunted by FBM agents.

  “I’m in the midst of an interesting legal battle,” Uncle Moyer said, as he helped his mother distribute the appetizers. Verity shot him a grateful look.

  “Aren’t you always in a legal battle?” Anton asked. “You’re a lawyer.”

  “Yes, but this time I’m suing a former client,” he said. “She came to me—pitiful thing—desperate for me to acquire her soul in exchange for a favor.”

  “Sounds like a typical transaction,” my mother said. “What’s makes it interesting?”

  “Ariel is a natural redhead,” he practically spat. “I want to sue for breach of contract and false representation.”

  “Redheads have no soul,” Olivia exclaimed.

  “Exactly,” Uncle Moyer said. “The trickster colored her hair black before the meeting. I had no idea I was dealing with a ginger.”

  “That was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid,” my mother said. “Did she think you wouldn’t find out?”

  “I think she believed she’d be long gone by then,” Uncle Moyer said. “But the truth has a way of finding the cracks and filtering through.”

  “Those are called roots,” Tomas quipped.

  “I want to see Aunt Eden’s new house,” Olivia said. She gripped a knife and fork in each hand and banged them on the table.

  My heart jumped. “That’s not a good idea right now, Olivia. There are lots of tools lying around because John’s nearly finished.”

  “I can shine a spotlight,” Anton said. “It’ll be fine.”

  I hesitated, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. “I’d rather wait until it’s completely done so I can show it off properly. It would be nice to get furniture.”

  “Oh, I know the perfect place to furniture shop,” Moyer said. “There’s a wonderful antique shop in town called Treasure Trove.”

  “That sounds promising,” I said. “Where is it?”

  “Behind that Indian takeout place,” he said. “You can douse yourself in the scent of curry as you go in and it will cling to you for the rest of the day.”

  “I happen to like the smell of curry,” Tomas said. “I don’t mind that he wears it like a fragrance.”

  “Foster is a friendly,” Uncle Moyer said.

  “He’s one of us?” I asked.

  “No, but he has the Sight,” Uncle Moyer said. “I think it’s part of the reason he’s so good and finding antiques. He sees beauty that other humans overlook.”

  “That’s a nice way of putting it,” I said.

  Dinner was too far behind schedule for me to wait to eat. I shoved another carrot stick in my mouth and chewed hungrily. Quickly, I washed it down with a glass of homemade lemonade.

  “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m expected at a council meeting”— I checked the clock on my phone— “in about ten minutes.”

  “Lucky you,” Anton grumbled.

  I kissed Olivia and Ryan on their heads and grabbed my purse from the kitchen counter. “Don’t wait up.”

  And whatever you do, don’t go in the barn.

  Chapter Ten

  I breezed into Chophouse and immediately spotted Julie and Meg, along with Ava, Meg’s new friend, at a table close to the kitchen. I maneuvered my way through the clusters of other tables to greet them.

  “Ooh, is that carrot cake?” I asked. I’d missed out on dessert at the family dinner, so maybe I’d order a slice of heaven here. Rafael took great pride in his culinary creations.

  “With cream cheese frosting,” Meg said.

  I tried not to salivate. “Is there any other kind?”

  Ava sliced the entire top of frosting off her cake and covered her fork with it. “It’s like eating a sugar cloud. I didn’t know this taste existed in the world.”

  “It’s magical,” Julie said, with a wink at me. “There’s a meeting tonight, huh?”

  “Unfortunately,” I said. “Believe me, I’d much rather be watching reruns of Friends.” At least I had a mission to accomplish during this particular meeting, which made attendance worthwhile. If I managed a breakthrough with the chief, it would be worth it.

  �
��What kind of meeting are you going to?” Ava asked. She licked the last of the frosting off her fork.

  “Oh, a book club,” I said quickly. “We meet in the back room of the restaurant.”

  “Cool,” Ava said. “I love to read. Which book are you discussing tonight?”

  “Some rich white guy’s autobiography,” I said. “Really dull. I’ll need a cup of coffee to make it through the meeting.”

  “Maybe next time you’ll get to choose the book,” Ava said. “My mom used to be in a book group in our old town and they let another member choose each month.” Ava pulled out her phone. “That reminds me. I promised I’d call my mom and tell her what time to expect me home.”

  Julie smacked Meg’s arm. “See? She uses technology to communicate with her mother so that there’s no fear that she’s been kidnapped or died in a ditch.”

  Meg’s face turned stony. “Mom, please don’t embarrass me in front of my friend.”

  “And you’re going to call? Not even text?” Julie asked, impressed.

  “She likes to hear my voice,” Ava said. “She says you can’t tell tone from a text.”

  “Your mother sounds very wise,” Julie said. “I hope I get to meet her soon.”

  “She’d like that. She hasn’t really met any new friends since we moved here. She says I’m lucky because I get to go to school and have forced interaction, but she has to make small talk in the cereal aisle.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Julie said. “It can be hard for mothers of older friends to make friends. We’re not congregating at the park with our strollers and coffee anymore.”

  “Excuse me just a sec.” Ava tapped her screen and turned away from the table to talk to her mother.

  Julie crooked a finger, beckoning me closer. “I heard a rumor about the chief,” she said, lowering her voice.

  My palms broke into a sweat and I wiped them on my pant legs. Had we not been careful enough? Had someone seen us together before his transformation? “Heard what?”

  Julie inclined her head toward the back room. “I assume it’s what you’ll be discussing in the meeting.”

  Did she think I needed the council’s permission to date him? “You know I can’t divulge our topics of discussion.”

  She lowered her voice. “Fine, but if people are turning into foxes, then we need to be told, especially the shifter community. What if we accidentally hurt someone that we think is prey?”

  Phew. “How did you hear about it? No one’s supposed to know.”

  “I told her.” Rafael appeared beside me.

  I cut a glance at my cousin. “How did you find out?”

  “I run a busy restaurant, Eden. It’s as gossipy as a hair salon. You know that.”

  I gripped the back of my chair and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone in my family. Not a word.”

  “Not to worry,” he said. “I won’t say a thing. I know how serious it can be if word gets around. To be honest, I haven’t seen anyone in over a week. Thora was in here with Ted O’Neill and that’s the last time I saw anyone.” A smile touched his lips. “You have to admire a woman that brings her own lemons to the restaurant.”

  I squinted at him. “Do you?” Aunt Thora’s obsession with lemons bordered on insanity. It was bad enough when customers brought their own teabags and sugar packets.

  “They were fresher than anything I had in stock,” Rafael said. “And you know I take great pride in my masterpieces.”

  “Oh, I know.” Rafael sliced and diced his ingredients like he was preparing the contents of a cauldron for a ravenous coven. His precision with a blade was unparalleled. If you needed surgery on a newt’s eye, he was your warlock.

  Ava turned back to the table. “Mom seems happy that I’m being social.”

  “It must be hard,” Julie said. “I can’t imagine trying to fit in somewhere new at this point in your education. You must be thinking ‘what’s the point’ because you’ll be heading to college soon anyway.”

  Ava stuffed her phone back into her small, sparkly purse. “I guess, but it’s more pleasant to pass the time with friends. Besides, I’m not sure I want to go to college.”

  Julie nearly choked on her mouthful of cake. “I’m sorry. Is that an option?”

  Meg gave her mother a hard look. “Mom, college isn’t for everyone. Don’t be so judgmental.”

  “I’m not being judgmental.” Julie gulped down her water to clear her throat. “I just think a degree is important in this world no matter what your future plans are.”

  “See? Judgmental.” Meg turned to her friend. “Don’t listen to her, Ava. College is overpriced and overrated.”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Julie said.

  My gaze drifted to the back room. “Well, it was nice seeing you, but I’d better get in there since I’m already late.”

  “Enjoy your meeting,” Ava said.

  I hurried to the back of the restaurant and slipped into the private room. Four heads snapped toward me when I entered the room—Adele, Aggie Grace, Husbourne Crawley, and Hugh Phelps.

  “How’s the chief?” Husbourne drawled in his Foghorn Leghorn accent. The white wizard watched me expectantly.

  “I told them,” Adele said. “I thought it best to put the urgent matter at the top of the agenda.”

  “The chief’s safe,” I said. “I’ve got Princess Buttercup keeping an eye on him.” She wouldn’t hesitate to use her acidic drool as a weapon if it came down to it. She may look like a Great Dane to humans, but the hellhound was no gentle giant if one of her loved ones was under threat. Right now, Chief Fox fell into that category.

  “Does your family know?” Husbourne asked and adjusted the lapel of his seersucker suit. Husbourne lived on Munster Close and knew my family well—probably better than he wanted to.

  “Definitely not,” I said. “And I’d very much like to keep it that way.”

  “I take it you’ve checked the portal,” Aggie said. She also lived on our cul-de-sac with her two sisters and I’d spent an inordinate amount of my childhood in their backyard oasis.

  “The portal is secure,” I said. “Neville and I have been researching potential demons with this sort of ability but nothing matches, and there’ve been no reports of escaped demons from Otherworld that fit the description.” I started to say more, but Hugh’s expression stopped me.

  “Hmm,” he said, and stroked the stubble on his rugged jawline.

  “What?” I asked.

  “What do we know about Sawyer Fox?” he asked. “He’s new to Chipping Cheddar. Maybe he’s made enemies that have followed him to our bucolic town.”

  “The thought occurred to me,” I said. “We checked his records in Iowa and it’s outstanding. Plus, he’s human. He hasn’t gotten tangled up in any supernatural messes.” Until he met me, of course.

  “None that he knows of,” Husbourne said. “Hugh is right. Maybe the chief got mixed up with supernaturals without realizing it.”

  I gave an adamant shake of my head. “We’re barking up the wrong tree.” I cut a quick glance at the werewolf. “No offense.”

  “Then you’ve settled on a demon?” Aggie pressed.

  “Not necessarily,” I said.

  Adele regarded me. “What is it, Eden? Another theory?”

  “I’m probably grasping at straws at this point, but it’s worth pursuing.” I faced Hugh. “I have a favor to ask.”

  He leaned forward, eyeing me appreciatively. “I’m a married wolf, Eden, but I’m sure I could make an exception for the sake of a lesson or two.”

  “Pipe down, my boy, before we neuter you right on the table,” Husbourne said, sounding disgusted.

  “Neville and I are wondering if the chief is a secret shifter,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t we have figured that out by now?” Aggie asked.

  “What if he didn’t know?” I said. “What if he was human until something triggered the change?”

  “Like a were
fox bite?” Adele said.

  “What else could trigger a change like that?” Aggie asked.

  Husbourne took a sip of nectar, the homemade recipe that kicked off all supernatural council meetings. “A broken spell.”

  “A broken spell?” Hugh queried. “What do you mean?”

  “Perhaps someone used magic to hide his shifter side,” Husbourne said. “Such a thing isn’t unheard of.”

  “And then something happened that broke the spell,” Adele said. “Maybe that explains why we couldn’t change him back.”

  I looked at Hugh. “I’d like you to try to teach the chief how to shift. If he really is some kind of secret kitsune or werefox trapped in animal form, then maybe he doesn’t know how to get himself back to human form.”

  Hugh popped an olive into his mouth. “I suppose I could do that, although the transformation is fairly intuitive. If he’s a shifter, he should be able to change naturally.”

  “Not if he’s never done it before,” I countered. “He didn’t even know the supernatural world existed…until now. He’s not going to know how to shift.”

  “Unless he lied,” Hugh said. “Men do that, you know.”

  “Everybody lies,” Aggie said. “I’ve lived long enough to say that with certainty.”

  “Look, we have to try everything, right?” I said. “We can’t have Chief Fox stuck as an animal forever.”

  “Can’t we?” Hugh shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s such an issue.”

  Aggie swatted his arm. “Of course it’s an issue, you halfwit. Eden’s right. We can’t leave the head of law enforcement in a form he isn’t meant to stay in, and, if he’s one of us, all the more reason to assist him.”

  “He’s not one of us,” the werewolf insisted. “I would’ve smelled it on him. You would have sensed it, Eden.”

  “If he didn’t know it about himself, I doubt anyone would’ve sensed it,” I argued.