The fox’s nod was almost imperceptible.
The mention of Clara sparked a reminder. “Do you know anything about a secret club for descendants of the original Puritan families?”
“A secret club?” Alice repeated. She drifted over in front of a pile of multi-colored storage containers. “Why would they need a secret club?”
“That’s what we’re wondering.”
The ghost appeared thoughtful. “I’m not aware of any organization that’s restricted to descendants of founding families. I would have been a member.”
“You wouldn’t have been required to join,” I said. “Farley Twisse isn’t a member, but he could be if he wanted to.”
“Do you want me to skulk around town and see what I can find out?” Alice offered.
“Looking after the chief is the priority right now,” I said. “Maybe later.” And maybe Clara would find something useful in the town archives.
“If a club needs to be hidden, then it probably shouldn’t exist in the first place,” Alice said.
I had a feeling she was right about this particular organization. It seemed odd to hide its existence in a town that celebrated its founding families with statues and street names. That didn’t track.
“Secrets are hard work,” Alice continued. “Active deception is exhausting. It causes stress and anxiety…”
“Thanks, Alice. I think we get the idea.”
The ghost seemed to realize her error. “Oh, I didn’t mean you, Eden.”
I leaned against the soft fur of the fox for support. “I know.” And the truth was that the stress and anxiety would be worse if my family knew about us. Whatever we endured as a result of hiding the secret was worth it.
Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “Telling the truth is like lighting a torch. It can bring light and clarity.”
“Or it can set your house on fire,” I finished. And, when it came to my family, I knew which one I could count on.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning I snuck downstairs bright and early to grab food for the fox. I was stunned to see my mother back to her usual, middle-aged self. It all made sense when I heard Grandma speak. Unlike the Go-Go’s, her lips were unsealed.
“You’re up early,” Grandma said. “I didn’t hear you come in last night so I assumed you’d sleep until noon.”
“When do I ever sleep until noon?” I asked. I debated whether to mention their truce but decided it was best to pretend the fight never happened. That was my family’s way—eruption and denial.
My mother spooned sugar into her coffee. “I think we might have mice in the attic. Have you seen any? I keep hearing the sound of scuffling.”
My stomach clenched when I realized she’d been hearing the fox walking around on the attic floorboards. “I haven’t noticed any, but I’ll keep an eye out.”
“I’ll send Candy up to take care of them,” Grandma said, with a nod toward the black cat that was sprawled across the windowsill. Candy opened a lazy eye at the mention of her name.
“No need for that,” I said quickly. Although Candy didn’t look particularly vicious, the cat could make all your death wishes come true.
Aunt Thora ambled into the kitchen wearing an eyeshade on her head. Apparently she decided to tough it out at the farmhouse last night. “There are muffins in the tin. I made lemon-poppy seed.”
“Great, thanks.” If my mother and Grandma were smart, they’d behave better for Aunt Thora’s sake. If she left, so did the delicious baked goods that everyone inhaled.
“Coffee’s in the pot,” my mother said. “I know it isn’t up to your exacting standards, but it’s there.”
“Thank you.” I had no desire to pick a fight. Now that she and Grandma were out of each other’s crosshairs, I’d be a tempting target.
“How was the meeting last night?” my mother asked. “Anything interesting to report?”
“No,” I lied. “Just the usual.”
“It’s been a bit of a lull for you, hasn’t it?” Aunt Thora said. “It seemed like demons were climbing out of the woodwork. I guess that’s finally calmed down.”
“Seems so.” I filled a mug to the brim with coffee and inhaled the aroma. It was one of my favorite smells in the world, even when the coffee itself was mediocre. The bright yellow mug read I am a ray of f$*%ing sunshine in block cap letters. One of Grandma’s.
“I don’t recall Paul Pidcock having so much activity,” Grandma said. “It must be something you’re doing.”
My mother glanced at her. “What? You think the demons sent a memo around Otherworld advertising fresh meat in the Chipping Cheddar FBM office?”
Grandma shrugged. “Could be. You don’t know.”
I joined them at the table. “I highly doubt it.” I drank my coffee in contemplative silence. Part of me wanted to launch into a tirade about their spell on Tanner. The other part of me knew it was a fool’s errand, at least right now. I couldn’t risk riling them up while Chief Fox was in a vulnerable position. He needed me to stay on top of his case and not be sidelined by a hex or worse. It was tough sitting with them and pretending everything was fine though. I’d suppressed the anger I felt toward them in order to keep the peace. At some point my lid would blow. It was inevitable.
Princess Buttercup’s low growl told me that my guest had arrived. As casually as I could without raising suspicion, I left the table. The hellhound followed me to the attic steps. “You stay here. Hugh is here to do me a favor and I don’t need you spewing the flames of the underworld at him. It’s rude.”
I ran upstairs and scooped up the fox, tucking him under my shirt to keep him out of sight in case I passed any family members on the way out. His fur tickled the bare skin of my stomach and I suppressed a giggle.
“Do you think your family won’t notice that huge bulge under your shirt?” Alice asked, drifting next to me.
“I’ll just tell them I’m pregnant,” I said. “That’ll distract them long enough for me to escape.”
“I think you’re safe if you hurry,” Alice said. “Your mother and grandmother are still at the table.”
I held my breath and walked downstairs on the tips of my toes, then slipped out the back door. I set the fox on the ground and we ran to the barn where Hugh awaited us. His hair was unkempt and his clothes slightly disheveled. He wasn’t kidding about not being an early riser.
I opened the doors to the barn. “Watch out for the tools and tarps. John’s almost finished and I don’t want anything to slow him down.”
Hugh gave the room an admiring glance. “This room is going to be quite the feature.”
“I don’t know how you can tell. John’s taken great pains to hide everything so he can do a big reveal.” He’d been inspired by all those HGTV shows. “I’m not allowed anywhere in the barn except this room.”
“I was thinking about converting an outbuilding on my property. I’d like a man cave.” He knocked on a wooden post on the wall. “I definitely think I’ll hire him. This transformation is remarkable.”
“It is,” I agreed. “And I’m counting down the minutes until I can move in.”
“Feel free to call me to keep you company if you get lonely.”
I pointed in the direction of the farmhouse. “You do realize that I can’t throw a stone without hitting a member of my family, right? There’s no such thing as lonely for me.”
“I think my wife misses her homeland,” Hugh said with a tragic sigh. “I fear it might have been a mistake to bring her here.”
“Gee, imagine my shock that a mail order werewolf bride isn’t living the dream.”
Hugh rolled up his sleeves. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? I have a busy day today and sarcasm isn’t on the agenda.”
“Hey, the sooner the chief is back in his physical form, the better for everyone.”
Hugh clucked his tongue as he regarded the fox. “A dull brown coat. Too bad you didn’t get anything flashier to attract female attention.”
Hugh shrugged. “He might want to consider it if this is a new normal for him.”
I resisted the urge to punch Hugh in the Adam’s apple. “This is not a new normal,” I insisted. “Even if he is a kitsune or some kind of shifter, it doesn’t mean he’ll want to use his abilities.”
Hugh grunted his disagreement. “You’re the anomaly, Eden, not the norm. Most of us are comfortable with who we are. We actually like our supernatural selves.”
I bristled. “I like myself.”
Hugh snorted. “Whatever.” He moved into a crouched position to address the fox. “Listen up, Chief Fox. I’m a werewolf, in case you haven’t worked that out yet. I’m going to walk you through how to shift. When I’ve finished, you can try. Simple, right?”
I glanced at the fox to see whether he understood. Based on his earlier responses, he seemed to be following the conversation without any trouble.
Hugh started to strip off his clothes. He’d made it as far as his black boxer briefs when I threw out my hands. “Whoa! Slow down there, partner. I don’t think we need the full show.”
Hugh grinned. “Honey, everybody needs a glimpse of this package.”
The fox lowered himself to the ground and covered his eyes with his paws.
“You’re here to help him shift, not strip,” I said, trying not to sound impatient.
Hugh stood in his briefs and socks and faced the fox. “I’m not sure if it’ll be exactly the same for you, but you should feel a special kind of energy in the pit of your stomach. Something that doesn’t quite belong, yet also feels absolutely right.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s crystal clear, Hugh. You should consider teaching a class.”
The werewolf ignored me. “Then you focus on that energy and start pulling on it. You want it to open like a flower in your gut.”
I winced. Now there was a lovely image.
“The animal is coiled in there like a snake, and you’re going to let it loose,” Hugh continued.
I gestured to the fox. “He’s already let it loose, Hugh. That’s why we’re here. How does he put the furry genie back in the bottle?”
Hugh rubbed his hands together. “That’s what I’m attempting to demonstrate.”
“Tell me again why you needed to strip for this demonstration?” I asked.
Hugh leered at me. “Thought you might want to show me the bedroom afterward.”
The fox snarled.
“I thought you were only into werewolves,” I said. “What’s with the sudden onslaught of smarminess?”
“For marriage and progeny purposes, yes,” Hugh said. “Now that I have my bride, I’m open to other arrangements.” He inclined his head toward the fox. “I don’t see why the chief should object. We’re two willing adults.”
“Make that one willing adult. I’m not interested.” I motioned to the pile of clothes. “You might as well get dressed.”
“I intended to shift to wolf form and then back again.” Hugh grabbed his shirt and pulled it down over his head. “But, honestly, I don’t think I’m what he needs.”
“How can you tell?” I asked, suddenly filled with desperation. “He hasn’t shifted yet.”
“Exactly my point. If he were a shifter, we’d see an arm or a leg by now. Some evidence that he can transform at will. Whatever’s happened to him, I’m afraid his will has nothing to do with it.”
“What in the devil is going on in here?”
My body jolted at the sound of Grandma’s voice.
“Good morning, Mrs. Pritchard,” Hugh said warmly.
“Why are you getting naked in the barn with Eden?” Her gaze flicked to the fox. “Is this some kind of weird threesome?”
“No, Grandma. You don’t understand.”
Grandma crossed her arms. “I understand kink when I see it.”
My mother appeared behind her. “You should at least get another shifter involved. A random fox from the woods could be riddled with disease.”
Inwardly I groaned. Leave it to my mother to offer threesome tips.
“You sound like you have experience in these matters, Mrs. Fury,” Hugh said.
My mother’s eyelashes fluttered. “Please, call me Beatrice. All the men do.”
“That’s not all they call you,” Grandma muttered. She moved toward the fox and swatted at him. “Get out of here before we all get rabies.”
I rushed between them. “Leave him alone.”
“Oh, how sweet. Eden’s already become attached,” my mother said. “Sweetheart, you can have a physical relationship without getting emotionally involved. Trust me, I do it all the time.”
An involuntary shudder escaped me. “There are so many things wrong with that sentence that I don’t know where to start.”
Hugh zipped his pants and slipped on his shoes. “The barn suddenly feels a bit crowded. I think I’ll be going. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
My mother made a sad face. “Oh, could you not manage?”
“He managed fine.” I maneuvered in front of Hugh before he registered the offensive remark.
“What does Eden need help with in the barn?” Grandma asked. “She has John for the carpentry work.”
“Not the barn,” Hugh said. “The fox.”
No. No. No. “Thanks, Hugh. See you later.”
Grandma and my mother looked at the fox in question. “What’s wrong with the fox?” Grandma asked. “Looks healthy to me.”
“Yes, but the chief would like to resume his human form,” Hugh said.
I wanted to throttle the werewolf.
“The chief?” my mother echoed. “That fox is the chief?”
“He’s been stuck in fox form for days,” Hugh said. “Eden asked for my help in getting him to shift back.”
“Since when is he a shifter?” my mother asked.
“He’s not,” Hugh said. “At least I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with.”
Grandma bent over to examine the fox and looked directly into his eyes. “He’s aware of everything that’s happening.”
“I know,” I said.
“How can you be sure?” my mother asked.
“Because I’ve basically been with him since he turned,” I said. “He’s been staying with me in the attic so that I could make sure he was safe until he returned to normal.”
My mother’s cheeks were tinged with pink. “He’s been staying in the attic under our very roof and you didn’t tell us?”
“Oops, I can see I’ve stirred the cauldron on this one. Good luck, Eden.” Hugh slipped out from behind me and clapped me on the back before making his way to the exit.
Princess Buttercup passed Hugh on her way into the barn. She must’ve heard the commotion and come to check things out. She sniffed the floor where Hugh’s clothes had been and then sprawled across the middle of the room.
“This is unbelievable,” my mother complained. “Did you really think you could keep a secret from me, Eden Joy Fury?”
Wow. The middle name too. “I’ve kept a lot of secrets from you over the years,” I shot back. “You didn’t know about Tanner until Anton blabbed.”
I could practically see the steam ready to blow from my mother’s ears. “And what does this have to do with that wretched human boyfriend of yours?”
“Because that fox is also a wretched human,” I said. “No, wait. Just a human, not a wretched one.” I was careful to omit the word ‘boyfriend.’
“Why is he your responsibility?” Grandma asked.
“Because supernatural occurrences in this town are my responsibility. I can’t very well hand him over to Deputy Guthrie.”
“What about the supernatural council?” my mother asked. “Or is that why Hugh was here?” She glanced at the doorway where Hugh had disappeared. “I can’t say I’d mind if he came back for another striptease.”
Grandma snapped her fingers in front of my mother�
�s face. “Leash your inner harlot, Beatrice. We have a situation.”
“We do,” I admitted. “We need to turn the chief back into a human. Can you help?”
My mother folded her arms and glared at me. “No.”
I balked. “No?”
“You heard me. You keep secrets from me and this is what happens. I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson.”
“Mom, you’re not punishing me. You’re punishing the chief of police and the residents of Chipping Cheddar.”
“I’m punishing you by not doing what you want,” my mother said. “His disappointment is simply a byproduct.”
“Watch this!” Grandma’s eyes glinted with mischief.
I watched in horror as she gestured to the fox and snapped her fingers. The fox ran and did a flying leap over Princess Buttercup. “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.” Grandma cackled softly.
The hellhound lifted her head as if to challenge the accusation of laziness.
“Why is this necessary?” I demanded.
“It’s a pangram,” Grandma said. “It contains all the letters of the alphabet.”
“No, but why are you turning the chief into a dog and pony…fox show?” I asked.
“I used a little puppet magic to control his movements,” Grandma said. “No big deal.”
“Please don’t do that to the chief of police,” I said. “If you’re going to do anything, give him the ability to speak so he can communicate.” That was better than nothing.
My mother and Grandma exchanged looks. “Fine,” my mother said. “You can owe us one.” She glanced at Grandma. “You should probably do it. My body is still recovering from your dreadful hex.”
Grandma mimicked my mother’s voice as she drew blood from her palm with a sharp fingernail. “Open your gullet, fox,” she demanded.
The fox reluctantly opened his mouth and Grandma dripped blood into it while chanting in Latin. Then she flicked her fingers at the fox.
“Finally! Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to speak?”
Hell Hath No Fury Page 11
