“None for me, thanks,” Clara said.
Otto offered me an encouraging smile. “Come now. You can’t let an old wizard drink alone. People will talk.”
I handed him my empty flute. “This is why I’m using an Uber tonight.”
Otto headed to the bar on the other side of the veranda as Wilfrieda returned.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” I said.
“It’s a wonderful party. Everyone here is so interesting.”
That was putting it mildly.
Wilfrieda sighed. “I only wish my bladder was more cooperative. You’d think I had ten children the way it behaves.”
Otto cut through the crowd with two glasses of red wine and handed one to me. “I’m so sorry, Wili. I should’ve thought to get one for you. Here, take mine. I insist.”
She waved him away. “No, no. I’m fine. I’d like to eat a bit more before I have another drink.”
“Smart lady,” I said. I gulped down the wine and fought off a cough. Velvet? More like smooth as a cable-knit glove.
“Oh, dear,” Wilfrieda said. “Did you get the sediment? I hate that.”
Otto held out his hand. “Allow me to fetch you another one.”
“No, it’s fine.” I wasn’t a diva like my mother. Beatrice Fury was known to send back rice when it was deemed too sticky.
“If you don’t mind, Otto, I’d love to talk to you about your motels,” Clara said. “I’m a reporter for the local newspaper and this would make a great story for the business section.”
He lit up. “Free publicity? Ah, wonderful.”
“We’ll be here,” I said. I had a direct view of the bay on one side and Chief Fox on the other. Whatever this was, it was the opposite of a rock and a hard place.
Once they were out of earshot, Wilfrieda jostled me with her elbow. “My nephew can’t take his eyes off you. In a room full of beautifully dressed people, you, my dear, are all he sees.”
My face grew flushed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Wilfrieda clasped her hands. “I’m so pleased Sawyer’s found someone special. I’ve been so worried about him.”
“Why worried?”
“New town. New job.” Wilfrieda looked at me with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “But you’ve calmed my fears. I can see you two living happily ever after.”
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Really? What makes you so certain?”
“The way you look at each other. The energy in the air changes. It crackles.”
“That’s just static electricity. I’m constantly taming the frizz.” I pointed to my head.
She sighed dreamily. “You two are like Bogey and Bacall reincarnated.”
“Lauren Bacall is still alive, I think.”
“Well, either way, their relationship died a long time ago and you two have taken up the mantle.”
I rummaged through my purse for my phone. Now I had to know whether Lauren Bacall was alive.
Wilfrieda frowned at my screen. “What’s that app? Is that one of those new ones where you record yourself doing dance moves in the mirror of a public bathroom?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why anyone would spend longer than necessary in a room full of filthy toilets.”
I glanced at my phone. “Which app?”
I realized too late which app she meant. She clicked the icon and Neville’s demon identification app opened, revealing an image of a horned demon.
“Goodness gracious me,” she said.
I laughed and closed the app. “That’s a game like Little Critters, only much more realistic.”
“What’s Little Critters?” she asked.
“A game people play on their phones. You should ask my grandmother. She’s an expert.” On second thought, it was probably best to limit Wilfrieda’s interactions with members of my family.
“2014,” Wilfrieda said, looking at her own phone. “According to the Google gods, Lauren Bacall died in 2014.”
“That’s too bad.” I downed the rest of my wine, sediment and all. “Come along, Wili. We’re needed. I see Bree Travers talking to Sawyer.”
Wilfrieda cut a glance over her shoulder. “Is that bad?”
“It is when she has her hand on his back. Any lower and she’ll be squeezing the wrong cheeks.”
I started toward him but stopped as Clara’s words echoed in my head.
Don’t be seen so much together.
Ugh. Clara was right. I had to be careful.
“Aren’t we going over there?” Wilfrieda asked, frowning.
“You go ahead,” I said, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in my stomach. “I think I’ll join Sassy at the bar.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Must be challenging, not being seen together when you want to spend all your time with each other.”
“It is,” I said, my voice filled with longing, “but he’s worth every difficult moment.”
Chapter Four
I was relieved to awaken in the morning and find Sassy already gone. I found a thank you note in front of the coffee pot, complete with a smiley face and a heart at the end of the cursive ‘y’ in ‘Sassy.’ Apparently, she wasted no time returning to Clara’s now that Agent Redmond was back on the road.
My phone buzzed with a text and I smiled to myself when I saw ‘Chief Fox’ on the screen.
Wish I was waking up next to you right now instead of this face. He uploaded a photo of Achilles up close.
Instead of or in addition to? I typed back.
I know how you feel about threesomes.
I laughed as another text came through, this one from Aunt Thora. A pancake breakfast would be ready in ten minutes. Excellent. It was the best way to start a Sunday, even if it meant enduring the company of my family. Aunt Thora’s pancakes were worth every uncomfortable minute.
It occurred to me on my way out the door that I should skip breakfast and focus on the housewarming party. My mother would pepper me with a million questions and chastise me for not taking it seriously enough, as though I was prepping for the presidential inauguration ball. Then I realized I was wearing one of the T-shirts that annoyed her—a bright yellow one with I’m a Ray of Sunshine with a Chance of Hurricane in black letters. Breakfast for the win. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.
I hurried across the lawn to the back door of the main house with Princess Buttercup beside me. Her seasonal allergies must’ve been acting up because she kept sniffing noisily.
“Quiet down,” I said. “You sound like you just watched the end of Titanic.”
I waltzed into the kitchen and went straight for the coffee pot. Aunt Thora manned the griddle and I noticed a stack of pancakes already piled high on a plate.
“Everything smells amazing,” I said.
Aunt Thora jumped, tossing a pancake off the spatula and into the air. It narrowly missed the ceiling before gravity sucked it back down. Thanks to my quick reflexes, I managed to stick a plate in the right spot to catch it. There was no wasting a perfectly good pancake on my watch.
Aunt Thora’s hand shook as she gripped the spatula and stared at the plate. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice wary.
“What do you mean?” I took a fork from the drawer and jabbed two more pancakes to add to my plate.
The older witch peered at me. “Eden?”
I looked back at her. “Yes?”
“Why can’t I see you?”
“I don’t know, Magoo. You’re less than a foot away from me. That’s some pretty serious eyesight deterioration.”
My mother swept into the kitchen wearing a red silk robe that skimmed her thighs. “I am desperately in need of caffeine. Last night’s date with Isaiah was exhausting and not in the good way.” She stopped in front of my plate. “Why is this plate here?”
“You expected me to wait for everyone else?” I said. “Since when do we stand on ceremony here?”
My mother bounced back a step. “Eden?”
I frowned and loo
ked back and forth from my mother to Aunt Thora. “Of course it’s me. Who else?”
My mother narrowed her eyes. “It is far too early on a Sunday for this kind of nonsense, Eden.”
“I completely agree,” I said.
Aunt Thora slid more pancakes off the griddle. “You’re invisible, Eden.”
My heart fluttered. “What? You can’t see me?”
“Who can’t see you?” Grandma shuffled into the kitchen, her gaze intent on her phone.
“You, if you don’t take your attention off your screen for five seconds,” I said.
Grandma looked up as she continued to tap her screen. “I can’t. I’m in the middle of a raid. I’ve been trying to catch this sucker for a week.” Lines rippled across her brow as she scanned the kitchen. “Eden? Where are you?”
I groaned loudly. “Are you pranking me? That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Maybe I shouldn’t have worn the T-shirt.
“Go look in the bathroom mirror,” Grandma said. “You must’ve triggered your invisibility power without realizing it.”
“Never mind that.” My mother slipped a hand into the pocket of her robe and produced a compact mirror.
“I don’t even want to ask why you’re carrying that around in your robe,” I said.
She opened the mirror and held it to the side of me. I reached out and adjusted the mirror and was astounded to see—nothing.
No reflection.
“Am I dead?” I asked.
“Let me see,” my mother said. She reached forward with a tentative hand and managed to land it squarely on my boob. “Sweet Nyx, Eden, is this your stomach? You need to put down those pancakes right this instant and do crunches.”
I swatted her hand away. “How tall do you think I am?”
“I guess you’re not dead,” Grandma said.
“Thank the gods,” my mother said. “Who would open the jar of mango chutney I bought yesterday?”
Aunt Thora maneuvered around the plate. “You didn’t make yourself invisible?”
I set the plate on the island. “I think I would know.”
“Are you sure you didn’t flip your invisibility switch on the way over?” my mother asked.
“It’s not a switch that can get flicked on accidentally,” I said. “It only works if it’s intentional. I have to will it.”
Grandma must’ve been concerned because she actually put down her phone in the middle of a Little Critters raid. “When’s the last time you used the invisibility power?” she asked.
My mother sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a power like that. My first stop would be…”
I held up a hand and then quickly realized how ineffective that was. “I don’t need to know.”
“You could do an invisibility spell if you really wanted to, Beatrice,” Aunt Thora said. “There are a multitude of spells and potions to choose from.”
If she weren’t so old and sweet, I would’ve kicked her in the shins for making the suggestion. The last thing this town needed was an invisible wicked witch roaming the streets. My mother did enough damage when everyone could see her coming.
“I turned invisible yesterday,” I said, in an effort to wrest the conversation away from my mother, “but that was only for a training session with Neville.”
“You must’ve glitched,” Grandma said. “Happens on my game all the time. I think I’ve captured a glossy critter and bam! Gone.”
“I didn’t glitch,” I said. “I was fine afterward. I even went to the mayor’s party where I was perfectly visible. You saw me before I went.”
Sassy and I had returned to the barn last night in good spirits, slightly inebriated after tequila shots at the bar with several of her new clients. Okay, maybe not slightly inebriated. Maybe flat-out plastered.
My mother sucked in a breath. “That’s right. The mayor’s party was last night. Too bad this didn’t happen sooner. Invisibility might’ve been the better option.”
Even in the middle of a crisis, my mother found time to criticize me.
“I can see now why Tanner chose Sassy over you,” my mother continued. “Her style is impeccable.”
I felt the tension creep along my jawline. “He did not choose her.” My mother knew perfectly well that she and the other witches were responsible for Tanner cheating with Sassy. We’d recently come to blows over it.
“We didn’t put a spell on Sassy,” Grandma said. “Only Tanner. Which means Sassy is a strumpet.”
“It was years ago,” I said. “I’ve decided to let it go, which the three of you should be happy about, considering the part you played.”
My mother tapped her fingernails on the island. “Why have you decided to let it go?”
“Give it a rest, Beatrice,” Grandma said. “The girl says she’s moving on.”
My mother cocked her head, thinking. “The only reason I would let a thing like this go is because of another man.”
“Yes, we know how you are,” Grandma said. “But we’re talking about Eden.”
I swallowed hard. Maybe I should’ve feigned a grudge. Anything to keep my family from sniffing out my relationship with the chief.
“You wouldn’t let the Tanner thing go unless you replaced him with someone you like better,” my mother said.
“I haven’t been with Tanner since high school,” I said. “You know that.”
“I think it’s wonderful that you and Sassy have mended fences,” Aunt Thora interjected. “It shows true character.”
“It shows you’re weak and gullible if you think she won’t do it again,” Grandma said. “That girl is only out for herself.” She began tapping rapidly on her screen. “Ha! Everyone else died. I’m the last one standing. The critter is mine!”
I rolled my eyes. “You were saying, Grandma?”
My mother gasped. “Sweet Nyx! What about your housewarming party?”
I looked down at myself. “I guess I need to cancel it.”
“You can’t cancel it,” my mother said. “It’s today.”
“I’ll tell everyone I’m sick. I caught a bug at the mayor’s party.”
My mother tossed her head back in dramatic fashion. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You probably made yourself invisible to weasel out of hosting.”
“I’m not trying to weasel out of anything,” I said indignantly. “I’ve been looking forward to it.” The way a vampire looks forward to a good stake through the heart.
“Beatrice, you can’t expect her to host a housewarming when no one can see her,” Aunt Thora said. “What will the humans think?”
“They don’t think. That’s their problem,” Grandma said.
Charlemagne slithered across the kitchen floor to investigate. The Burmese python curled around my ankles as though trying to determine whether the invisible visitor was friend or foe.
“It’s me,” I told the snake.
Charlemagne’s forked tongue darted out and touched my bare ankle, apparently wanting to confirm my claim. Satisfied, the snake slithered away.
“Is it common for furies to lose control of their powers?” my mother asked.
I thrust out my hands. “How should I know? It’s not like there are thousands of us running around to form a support group.” Furies were rare among supernaturals, unlike witches, werewolves, and vampires.
My mother poured herself a cup of coffee. “You’ll have to ask that little pudgy friend of yours.”
“Neville?” I asked.
“I don’t remember his name. The dwarf that follows you around,” she said.
I bristled. “My assistant is not a dwarf. He’s a wizard.”
Her face registered surprise. “Are you sure? I bet he has some dwarf blood in there somewhere. Maybe a lonely grandmother who took a lover.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten under my breath. “I’m going to go now.”
“Not that we’ll know if you do,” Grandma said. “You could sit in this kitchen all day eavesdropping and no one would be t
he wiser.”
I would rather wash my face with bleach.
“I’ll send a group text to cancel,” I said. “I promise I’ll reschedule as soon as I have this figured it out.”
“You can’t cancel a party via group text,” my mother said. She leaned her back against the counter and sipped her coffee. “It’s bad manners.”
“You think I should fly to each guest’s house and leave a handwritten note of apology?” I asked.
“That would be a start,” my mother said.
“I’ll text our side of the family,” Aunt Thora offered. “You can do Stanley’s side and your friends.”
“Do you think Anton and Verity are home now?” I asked.
“I know for a fact they are,” my mother said. “I invited them for breakfast this morning, but your sister-in-law said she was making a sausage casserole.”
“She should’ve invited you,” Grandma said to my mother. “A sausage casserole sounds right up your alley.”
“I’m going to head over there now,” I said. “Maybe Verity can help me.” As a druid healer and a medical doctor, my sister-in-law was a good bet to diagnose my condition.
“You’d better fly there,” Grandma said. “If anyone sees a car without a driver, they’ll flip out.”
She made a good point.
“What about your pancakes?” Aunt Thora asked. “You haven’t had any.”
I gazed forlornly at the short stack. As much as I hated to pass them up, I’d completely lost my appetite.
I would’ve preferred not to fly to my brother’s house, but Grandma was right. I couldn’t drive a car in my current state. If Deputy Sean Guthrie happened to spot my car on the road, he’d pull me over for the sheer joy of it. An invisible driver would only complicate matters.
Anton’s house had undergone extensive renovations in recent months and it now looked like an entirely new building. Even the exterior had been redone. They’d wanted more space for their growing family and I also suspected Anton suffered a little from Keeping-Up-with-the-Joneses-itis, although he’d never admit it. In a way, I understood. Our parents each owned a beautiful home without a mortgage. I’d lived in an apartment rental in San Francisco until I moved back to Chipping Cheddar, where I lived in the attic until the barn was finished. And the only reason I could afford the barn was because of my parents’ contributions. They were evil not frugal. Anton and Verity both had good jobs, yet they still struggled to afford their middle-class lifestyle. Home ownership was a more challenging goal for our generation, but I knew if I ever said this in front of either parent, I’d have to endure words like ‘bootstrap’ and ‘in my day.’ No thank you.
Playing With Fury Page 4
