Chapter Four
Shura’s warning pinged and ponged around my brain until morning, when I rose at the crack of dawn, accepting that I wouldn’t sleep in that Sunday. Nathaniel was dead to the world, so I tucked his blanket under his chin and snuck out of the bedroom on quiet feet. The door made the faintest click as I closed it.
I needed a workout to clear my head, so I texted Ovid, my trainer, had a cup of coffee and a slice of wheat toast with almond butter, and slipped out the door. I left a note on the kitchen table for Nathaniel and the kids.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I realized that I didn’t need to deal with the Jewish Community Center’s scariest villain. I was terrified of her and knew of no way to defeat her, no matter how many ancient texts I consulted. I had tried an exorcism of sorts by sneaking holy objects into the main playroom, placing them in a rough circle, and calling on the evil spirits inhabiting her body to leave.
It made no difference. Neither did the smudge stick, the so-called magic wand that I got suckered into buying at the “witches apothecary,” or the spell that I got when I returned the wand.
I’d tried meditation, medication, and outright prayer, begging the Almighty to smite her, for which I did extra pushups, but it was worth the price if it worked.
Nothing. I was forced to deal with most malicious, vile, evil creature ever put in my path.
The babysitter.
That’s right. The babysitter.
Regina was the director of the daycare at the JCC where folks could drop their children when they came for programs, classes, or to exercise. Daniel enjoyed the place and would happily play while I trained. He had his favorite daycare provider, Faith, and a few kids he knew. It was a great situation, and while a little pricey, worth every penny.
Except for my nemesis. Regina had a habit of lifting her nose and pursing her lips in disgust when confronted with my lax parenting skills. I flushed and became tongue-tied in the face of her disapproval. Give me a horde of zombies, a coven of witches, or a creep of trolls any day, even bog trolls, which smell putrid, but save me the scorn of a babysitter.
Happy it was so early, I tiptoed by the daycare center, relishing my reprieve.
“Oh, Mrs. Friedman!”
Mother leapin’ Christmas! What was she doing here so early? My chest tightened, and my breathing went into overdrive. I bit the inside of my cheek and rotated my torso toward Regina. I’m certain I looked stupid, half twisted with my feet facing one way and my body the other, but I couldn’t bring my lower half to move, frozen as I was by mortal fear.
Regina clip-clopped her way over to me, her nurse’s clogs smacking the floor with every step. Her nose was raised to its normal angle, her glasses down on the tip, her hands clenched in front of her. Her lips were puckered like she’d eaten something sour, and her eyes held the false concern of a woman enjoying her power over another woman.
“Yes, Regina?” I couldn’t help it if my voice trembled.
Regina gave a delicate cough into her elbow, so as not to spread germs. I believed in the philosophy of what did not kill children made them stronger. Of course, I’d been known to blow my nose on my sleeve, so possibly I wasn’t the best judge.
“Will we see Daniel here today?”
“No. He’s at home with his father.”
“Oh, that lovely Nathaniel of yours! He’s such a gem.”
I clenched my teeth. “Yes, he is.”
Regina cleared her throat. “Mrs. Friedman, we believe it is in Daniel’s best interest to enroll in a preschool with structure and discipline. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it.”
“Who is the ‘we’ of which you speak?” My feet finally moved a quarter of the way toward her, which was good because my hips hadn’t liked that position at all.
Regina blushed. “Well, there isn’t a ‘we’ per se. Just some discussions I’ve had with the other staff.”
“What does Faith say?”
Regina waved her hand. “I didn’t consult her. I do have several recommendations for schools for a child with his, how should I say it, imagination. I’ll put a list with Daniel’s things for the next time you bring him here.”
“Okay, thanks, I’ll look at it.” I wanted to get away so badly that the soles of my feet itched, but I had a question.
“What do you mean by imagination?”
Regina frowned, and then leaned in toward me in a conspiratorial fashion. I jerked back.
“Daniel jabbers about large birds that speak to him in his mind. He also insists he has, I know this is silly, a vampire for an uncle. Last time he was here, he drew a wolf that he says lives under your house. I may be misunderstanding him since his speech is so behind, but you get the idea. He’s not living in reality.”
“Really.”
“Yes, and while I love his imagination, we should harness that energy into something positive.”
“He’s three.”
“Exactly. What better time to help him learn how to focus?”
Was I harming my child allowing all these preternatural creatures into his life? Would he get into fights in elementary school when he brought in a talking Buddha for show and tell? My mind was reeling at the possibilities that I was screwing my baby up. Then, I realized that Regina was the one not living in reality.
My feet moved of their own free will. “I’ve got to go, Regina. I’ll take a look at that information, though.”
Regina crossed her arms and watched as I fled. That’s right. The monster hunter fled across the linoleum, and the babysitter didn’t follow.
Ovid met me in the sparring room with a pair of ear plugs and a blindfold. Ovid and I aren’t those kind of friends, so I knew there must be some tortuous training exercise involving my senses.
“How are you doing this morning, Jess?”
“Okay, except that Shura warned me that danger is coming but can’t tell me anything else. I’m living within a hazy cloud of worry with no place to focus.”
“Shura is the wolf?”
I nodded.
“Okay, well, we can’t do anything about that, but let’s get to work, shall we? First, we spar, hand-to-hand, to warm up. I’ve got pads over there.” He pointed to the corner where red sparring pads lay waiting for me to prove they didn’t cut the force of the blow at all. They do cut down on serious injury, but make no mistake, when Ovid hits me in the chest, I go down.
We donned our gear and faced off in a boxing dance, waiting for each other to make a move. I swung a right jab, which he side-stepped, but I came in with a left hook and got him good on his ribs. He countered with a cross punch followed by an uppercut, and since I was dodging the cross punch, I’d gotten low. The uppercut got me square in the jaw, and I was certain I’d have been spitting out teeth if I hadn’t had a mouth guard. We went on like this, trading punches, for about four minutes.
I was out of breath, as was Ovid.
“I forgot how hard it is to box,” I said.
“That’s why we are doing it,” Ovid said with a smile. “We haven’t done it in a long time, and I wanted to fix that.”
The last time Ovid had given me a special workout, it had been with ropes, and I had to fake a broken leg. It turned out to be unknowing preparation for battling a were-gorilla, and I’d concluded that Ovid had a little precog ability. My heart sank at the thought. Who the hell would I have to box?
I dropped and did twenty push-ups.
“Swearing again?”
“Shush. Let’s go.”
“This time blindfolded,” he said, with an evil grin. “Turn around.” He tied the blindfold over my face, made sure I could still breathe, and slugged me in my right shoulder, sending me reeling.
“Hey! You didn’t say it was time to start.” I regained my balance.
“What? You think the bad guys are going to warn you? Blow a little whistle? Send a pretty lady in wearing nothing but a bathing suit and a smile to carry around a round one card?”
I didn’t reply. I could
hear his voice, and without my eyesight, I used my ears to pinpoint his location. He shifted to my right.
Took a step back.
Rhythmic feet. He was dancing side-to-side.
A deep breath. Sneaky bastard had gone low.
I took two swift steps and knocked him on his ass. He scrambled to his feet, darting around me, but by focusing on his breathing and footsteps, I was able to follow him.
“Move, Jess, move! Standing still isn’t going to help you. Vampires are fast.”
Did his precog tell him I was going to box a vampire? Holy moly.
I took his advice and danced around on light feet, so I could still hear him breathe. He approached me from the left, and I blocked the punch but couldn’t avoid the shot to my kidneys. I reacted by kicking him in the shins and shoving my gloved hand into his belly.
“Oooooomph! That…isn’t…boxing,” Ovid panted.
“What? You think the bad guys are going to agree to fists only? Maybe get a girl in hooker boots to call a time out?”
“Fair point. Now, let’s plug up those ears.”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ovid said, shaking a finger.
“Oh, so now I am deaf and blind.”
He handed me the earplugs, and I stuffed them in my ears, astounded by the quiet. The earplugs were meant for plane noise, and they worked well. I held still to adjust to the lack of sound and the lack of sight. I was cocooned in a dark, muffled world, and it took exactly ten seconds for me to panic. My heart beat fast, and I snuffed in and out of my nose and mouth, making strange gagging noises as I fought the urge to spew all over the floor. I dropped to all fours and scrambled toward the corner of the room, surrendering to a primal fear that egged me on, cackling in glee when I curled up in a ball, back to the wall.
Calming hands pressed on my forehead and the back of my neck, and the touch was an island in the vast ocean of nothingness. I leaned into Ovid’s touch and concentrated on steadying my breath. Once I was calm, I noticed something.
I could feel the vibrations of Ovid steps on the floor. I removed my gloves and touched the floor with my fingertips, and, wait…yes, the wood floor radiated slight tremors as Ovid shifted position. I smelled sweat and sniffed again, recognizing workout sweat mixed with a little fear as he worried that he’d pushed me too far. I crawled up the wall, keeping my back to it, and waved Ovid away.
I knew he’d backed off when his body odor dissipated, but I didn’t know where he was. I bent and took off my shoes. Now barefoot, I could feel the reverberation of his steps. He wasn’t coming after me; no, this was a game of hide and seek. He moved to my left, and I tracked him. He moved backward, and I stepped an equal distance forward. He moved in a diagonal, approaching my right shoulder, and I shot out my hand, fast as a whip, and grasped him by the neck.
This made me ridiculously happy. I removed the ear plugs with my other hand, and the noise of the room came whooshing back. The fan on the ceiling, Ovid’s choking sounds, the creak of the floorboards. I heard anew.
I released Ovid and removed the blindfold. I blinked at the sudden brightness, stunned by the intensity of the light. I looked at Ovid, and he was smiling.
“Excellent,” he said and gave me a high-five.
Chapter Five
Exhausted and worried about what might lay ahead, I slipped into my front seat, started the car to get the air going, and checked my phone. I opened a text from a number I didn’t recognize.
Dearest Jess:
I need you to do an errand for me. Since I know you would not do it out of the goodness of your heart, I have taken collateral to make sure you understand this is not a request you can ignore. I’ll leave it to you to find me.
P.
He attached a photo of a beaten, battered, bloody face.
Pascal had Liam.
My blood turned ice cold. There was no time for emotion now. My biggest enemy had my closest friend. The game was on, and there would be no mercy. I texted back, What is it you want?
I waited. Nothing came back. It was morning, and the sun was up. It meant I had the day to find him. I drove home, and in the midst of the breakfast cacophony, I showed Nathaniel the text. His breath grew even, and he circled his neck like a wrestler getting ready to go into the ring.
Daniel tugged on my yoga pants, and I picked him up and cuddled him close, smelling the top of his head where his baby scent was still strong. Absently, I noticed that Devi flicked a spoonful of cereal and milk at her older brother and that he responded in kind. They both looked at Nathaniel and me for our reaction, but neither of us said anything. Our brains were working on how to save their uncle.
Nathaniel recovered first and pulled out a chair for me. He made me a cup of lemon ginger tea with honey, my favorite, and handed the older children paper towels and some kind of green cleanser to clean up the cereal. Daniel drowsed in my arms, already tired from the events of the morning.
Nathaniel sat catty-corner from me, blowing across the top of his coffee mug. He drank the damn stuff black. I could never understand how he did it, but now I was thinking that if I wanted to drink coffee, that’s the way I’d take it. Straight, dark, and bitter. Later, there’d be time to put whiskey in it.
“What do you want to do?” my husband asked.
“I’m wondering if Shura could track the way Liam went home.”
“I doubt it, but Blaze might. Besides, I want Shura right here with me, protecting the children.”
I crossed my arms and eased back in my chair, taking steady breaths into my nose and out my mouth. “Yes, I do, too. I’ll ask Blaze.”
First thing I did, though, was walk into the living room and retrieved the jade Buddha. It warmed in my hand.
“Buddha, danger is near. Shura feels it, and so do I. Worse, Pascal had taken Liam.”
The Buddha shivered.
“Can I leave you with Nathaniel? Will you give him a warning sign if you feel something? A disturbance in the Force, or whatever it is you can do?”
The Buddha contemplated my request.
I dare not disturb karma. Bad things are but a facet of one’s destiny. But if I sense an unnatural danger, something trying to subvert karma, I will let your family know.
In other words, if my child was about to be hit by a car driven by a drunk human, Buddha would stay silent, but if a three-headed, pustule-ridden, ten-foot tall Scoamon demon arrived with a desire to spit acid on my kids, Buddha would give fair warning. I could live with that.
“Thank you.”
I held Buddha, exited the back door to the yard, and walked toward Blaze’s nest, a large mess of branches and unlit Christmas tree lights, dotted with bits of feather and moss. Blaze’s head was under his wing, and I was certain he was sleeping, but as I approached, he woke. He may have sensed my anger, now restrained by a mental brick wall, because his face was serious.
What is it?
“Pascal has Liam.”
What does he want? The only reason to do that is blackmail.
“He wants me to do an errand for him.”
He didn’t say what?
“No.”
You need my help?
“I won’t know what he wants until sundown, and I have to locate his position by then. He neglected to tell me where the meeting spot is. It’s part of his game.” My voice stayed steady, but I couldn’t keep the thread of anger out completely. I showed Blaze the text, assuming he could read. Turns out, he could, no problem.
The phoenix paced. Shura’s nose is better, but if he took him in a car, that won’t be helpful. I will reconnaissance in the air.
“Thank you. How will you glamour yourself? Ponies don’t fly, last I heard.”
Not completely true, but no worries. I’ll be a blur. No one will see me. The phoenix didn’t wait around for more chit-chat. He leapt into the air and flew off, silent as an owl, despite the fact that he had bronze feathers. I reminded myself to ask what kind of ponies fly. Unicorns?<
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With Blaze off, I returned to the house to find my mystified kids watching a Disney movie, wondering why they were being given this privilege. I smelled chocolate and knew Nathaniel was baking cookies. When in doubt, bake. That’s been a tried and true response to stress in my family for a long time.
“Blaze is on the wing.”
“How absurd. I thought the wing was on the bird.” Nathaniel came back with the line despite his concerns. This’s why I loved this man so much. I handed him the Buddha.
“Buddha says that if a paranormal threat comes near, he’ll give you a warning. He won’t if it is a natural part of destiny. He doesn’t mess with karma, but if a creepy baddie from outside this world decides to drop in, he’ll give you as much warning as he can.”
“Thanks, Buddha,” Nathaniel said, taking the Buddha in his hand. “Now, how will I hold you? You are way too big to fit into my pocket.”
The Buddha rocked side-to-side and smoke came out of his ears. Alarmed, Nathaniel put the statue on the table, and we watched, open-mouthed, as the four-inch high carving shrunk to the size of a nickel. We both blinked at it. I’m pretty sure the Buddha giggled.
“Handy,” Nathaniel said, continuing his practice of just rolling with it. He snatched the Buddha off the table and dropped him into the front chest pocket of his blue golf shirt. “What now?” he asked.
“I’m going hunting.” I grabbed my bag to pack some stuff, but Nathaniel stopped me. He looked me in the eyes. “Be careful. Promise me you will be careful. I care about Liam, too, but if it comes down to you or him? I need you.” He pulled me in for a kiss that made me wish we weren’t in the middle of this crisis and had a lot more time. “Cancun soon? No kids.”
I stared at him. “No kids? How is that ever going to happen?”
Nathaniel held onto both of my arms. “Babe, we have a phoenix and a wolf living with us. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a babysitter.”
“Don’t say that word. Yeesh. It’s scary.”
Nathaniel laughed. “I’ll work on the babysitter. Oh, stop your shuddering. Okay, I’ll work on finding someone to stay with the kids while we are away.”
The Devil's Been Busy Page 21
