A Demonic Bundle (80 page)

Authors: Lexi George Kathy Love,Angie Fox

BOOK: A Demonic Bundle

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“No, ma’am. He’s probably busy getting ready for the visitation this afternoon. I hear the Farris funeral is tomorrow morning.”

“That’s right.” Mama returned her attention to the chief. “As awful as this must be for you, Car-lee, I can’t help but be glad about Jebediah. People at church were talking about it, and not You-Know-What.”

“What’s that, Little Bit?” The chief sounded distracted.

“You know . . . the unfortunate incident at Corwin’s.” Bitsy fanned herself. “I am so relieved that body showed back up and people have something else to talk about. Anyway, I figured you’d be busy at the crime scene and forget to eat, so I brought you a bite.”

“That’s real thoughtful of you, Hibiscus.” Chief Davis took Bitsy by the arm. “Why don’t we go sit under a tree and have us a real picnic.”

They left, and Addy turned to Officer Curtis with a smile. “More lemonade, Dan?”

“Guck,” Officer Curtis said, staring at her.

Addy took a step back. “You all right, Dan? Your face looks all funny.”

He gave her a goofy grin. “You sure are pretty, Addy. Want to go out sometime? We could drive over to Namath Springs and have dinner at that I-talian restaurant there.”

Awkward. She’d known Dan Curtis since middle school. They were friends, nothing more.

“Thanks, Dan, but I—”

“Hey, good looking.” Dinky Farris swaggered up. A wifebeater T-shirt exposed his stringy arms. He grinned and adjusted the bulge in his jeans. “What say you and me go for a ride in my new four-wheel-drive truck? I’ll throw a cooler of beer in the back and we can have us a par-tay.”

Eww. Dinky Farris and his jumbo mister had asked her out.

“Thanks, Dinky, but I’m not much of a partier.”

Addy turned and ran like hell for the house.

She slammed the front door and leaned against it. “Whoa, that was majorly freaky.”

Muddy came out of the kitchen. “What’s that, dear?”

“Dan Curtis and Dinky Farris came on to me.
Dinky Farris!
Gross.” She collapsed onto the couch. “And I’ve known Dan since seventh grade.”

Muddy went to the window. “They’re gone. Is that Bitsy with Chief Davis under the tree?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“They sure look cozy.”

“I think they’re dating.”

“Good,” Muddy said. “Your daddy was a hard worker and a good provider, but I’d bet money that Chief is a stem winder in the sack.”

“Muddy, puh-leeze. Do not put that image in my head.”

Brand materialized in the middle of the living room. “The Dinky human and the other one decided to take a trip.”

Muddy turned away from the window. “Oh, Mr. Dalvahni, I didn’t hear you come in. Amasa’s in the backyard playing with Dooley. He wanted to talk to you. I’ll go get him.”

She hurried past Addy and out the French doors.

“What do you mean Dinky and Officer Curtis took a trip?” Addy eyed him suspiciously. “A trip where?”

“I did not like the way they looked at you. They seemed overheated. I decided a dip in the river might cool them off.”

“Brand, you can’t go around dumping people in the river.”

He raised his brows. “I cannot?”

“No. For starters, what if they don’t know how to swim? And don’t you think they’re going to wonder how they got there and start asking questions?”

“I do not care what they do, as long as they do not look at you like that.”

“Oh, brother,” Addy said.

Muddy came back inside with Dooley at her heels. Dooley gave Addy a questioning look. Addy shook her head and put her finger to her lips, signaling silence. Looking slightly put out, the Lab slunk into the kitchen and flopped on the tile.

“He’s not out there,” Muddy said. “He must have gone around to the front.” She opened the front door and looked out. “There he is by Jeb’s statue. What on earth is he doing with that wire thingy?”

Addy got up and went to the door. “That’s his contrabulator, Muddy.”

“Looks like a divining rod. What do you think he’s doing?”

“No telling.” Mr. Collier looked up, and Addy waved. “Here he comes.”

Mr. Collier hurried into the house. He seemed relieved to see Brand.

“I’m glad you’re still here, Mr. . . . uh . . .”

“Call me Brand.”

Mr. Collier gave him a nervous smile. “Well, uh, Brand, I never did get a chance to talk to you this morning, what with all the excitement over Old Jeb. Been afraid you wouldn’t believe me, but now I’m sure of it.”

“Sure of what, Amasa?” Muddy said.

Mr. Collier fiddled with his contrabulator. “Try and keep an open mind, Edmuntina. This is going to sound crazy.”

“Of course, Amasa. Go on.”

He took a deep breath. “I see demons. Been seeing them since I hit my head in that car accident thirty-five years ago. That’s why I started drinking.”

“I know.”

Mr. Collier stared at Muddy in surprise. “You do?”

“Lord, yes. You told me about it years ago when you were on one of your three-day benders.”

“I did?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Did you believe me?”

“’Course I believed you,” Muddy said. “Why would you lie about a thing like that?”

He frowned. “You aren’t saying that to be nice, are you, ’cause you think I’m crazy?”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Amasa. I’d have married you years ago if that was all. But I refuse to marry a drunk.”

Mr. Collier’s lean face creased in a grin that made him look years younger. “I’ve quit drinking, Edmuntina. I’ve quit for good.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I see things, too,” Muddy said. “Oh, not demons. Sometimes I know things before they happen. Like with your drinking. I knew you were going to quit. That’s why I came home early.”

“I’m glad you came home. I missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Amasa. I love you, you know.”

Mr. Collier’s grin widened. “You do?”

“Yes, you old fool. I’ve loved you these thirty years and more.”

“I’ve wasted a lot of time.”

“Yes, you have.”

“I don’t want to waste any more. Will you marry me, Miss Fairfax?”

Muddy gave him a radiant smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter Twenty-three

M
uddy was in love with Amasa Collier, had been for more than thirty years. It boggled Addy’s mind, made her want to weep. Her sweet, lunatic great-aunt had waited a lifetime for a man, would be waiting for him still if not for Blondy and a bottle of Texas Pete. That floating bottle of hot sauce had changed everything, given poor Mr. Collier his first glimmer of hope in decades that he might not be crazy after all. The only one who’d believed in him was Muddy, dear, sweet, unpredictable Muddy.

She’d had no idea her aunt was in love with Amasa Collier. So much for her female intuition. Since she was a little girl, she and Muddy had paid frequent visits to Mr. Collier at his house outside of town, a grand plantation-style home built around 1900 with the Collier timber money. While she played along the winding driveway that led to the old home and swung in the branches of the oak trees, Muddy and Mr. Collier sat on the columned porch enjoying frosty glasses of iced tea. All the while they laughed and talked and argued about art and literature and politics, Addy didn’t have a clue that beneath the surface of their friendship ran a current of regret and longing and shattered dreams. Dreams that, thanks to a certain blond horse’s ass, were coming true. She owed Blondy a great, big thank-you. And somehow she’d tell him, too, in spite of the hairball of pride that clogged her throat at the thought.

“Addy, you’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you?” Muddy glowed with happiness. “And Shep can give me away. Nothing elaborate, a simple wedding with a few family and friends. Trinity’s such a beautiful, old church. I’ve always wanted to be married there. If that’s all right with you, Amasa.”

“Anything you want, Edmuntina.”

“I’d love to be your maid of honor, Muddy.” Addy gave her aunt a tearful hug. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride. We’ll go wedding dress shopping in Pensacola and Mobile.”

“Nothing too foo-foo,” Muddy said. “Something elegant and tasteful, maybe in tea length. And no virginal white.” She looked at Amasa, her eyes twinkling. “There have been one or two revenge affairs through the years while I waited for someone to come to his senses.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’ve come to my senses, so there won’t be any more of that.” He turned to Brand. “About what I wanted to tell you. I’m sure you know there are demons, and then there are
demons.
What I mean to say is, in my experience some of the critters are mischievous, but otherwise not half bad. They rattle on about anything from the number of raindrops in a thunderstorm to the song the tree frog sings on a warm summer night, but they aren’t evil.”

“The creatures you refer to are, I believe, elementals,” Brand said. “Nature spirits indigenous to this world, benign or harmful, depending upon their mood. The djegrali are not of this world. They are nearly always bent on mischief of the worst kind.”

“Call ’em what you want. They gossip like a bunch of old biddies about humans . . . and other demons, too. Seems these demons plan to take over the town. Showdown at the O.K. Corral, Hannah style. Mean to kill anyone that gets in their way.” Mr. Collier looked at Addy, his eyes full of concern. “And here’s the worst part. Their ringleader is one of the bad ones, the worst of them all, so the talk goes. And he’s got it in for you, Addy.”

“Oh, this is terrible, just terrible.” Muddy wrung her hands. “But what can Mr. Dalvahni do to stop these awful creatures, Amasa?”

Addy nudged Brand. “I think it’s time you showed Muddy your big sword.”

Her aunt perked up. “Is that a euphemism for the male part like they use in those bosom-heaver romance novels? Like ‘his magnificent scepter’ or ‘his throbbing love muscle’? ’Cause if it is, I’m an engaged woman. Not that I’m not interested, academically speaking, but I don’t think I should be looking at another man’s sword. Maybe you could tell me about it. Or Addy could draw me a picture.”

“Get a grip, Muddy. I’m talking about a real sword. Show her, Brand.”

Brand reached behind him. “Behold Uriel,” he said in ringing tones, holding the burning blade aloft. “Flaming nemesis of evil and scourge of the djegrali.”

“Dude, a simple ‘here’s my sword’ would have sufficed.”

Muddy clasped her hands to her bosom. “My, that
is
a big sword, Mr. Dalvahni. What do you use it for?”

“Brand is a Dalvahni demon hunter, my dear,” Mr. Collier said.

Muddy looked perplexed. “I thought Dalvahni was your last name.”

Brand shook his head. “No, Dalvahni is what I
am.
We are warriors. It is our task to find the djegrali and return them to their proper plane of existence, kill them if necessary, before they wreak havoc on unsuspecting folk and disrupt the balance of the universe. Be assured that Ansgar and I will meet and deal with this threat to your town.” He looked at Addy. “Do not worry about your niece. She is under my protection.”

“Who is Ansgar?” Muddy said.

“Another Dalvahni warrior, Muddy,” Addy said. “A real—” She bit her tongue. She’d been about to say “a real pain in the butt,” but she owed Blondy. “What I mean to say is, he and Brand are like brothers.”

“I see.” Addy felt her aunt’s worried gaze upon her. “And after you take care of these demons, what then, Mr. Dalvahni? Will you stay on in Hannah?”

A giant hand squeezed Addy’s heart. Here it was: The Bottom Line, the Big Unanswered Question, the future and whether she and Brand had one. She looked at him, and her heart sank. The strained, unhappy expression in his eyes told her everything. He would do what he came here to do and leave. He might not be happy about it, but he would do it all the same, big, bad demon hunter that he was. There was no future for them, no happily ever after.

What had happened to all the air in the room? She couldn’t breathe. She had to do something, move before it all came down, crushing her beneath a mountain of pain and sorrow and loss. She turned away, unable to bear the sadness in his eyes. If she could get outside, maybe she could breathe again.

“Adara, wait,” Brand said.

She shook her head. Stumbling blindly across the room, she opened the back door. Dooley barreled inside, almost knocking her over.

“Addy, cat. Stupid cat . . .”
Dooley panted.

“Mr. Fluffy!” Addy blinked back her tears. “Oh, my goodness, that poor little kitten has been shut up in the laundry room all this time. I feel horrible! He’s probably hungry and lonely.”

“Adara, you worry needlessly about that creature,” Brand said. “He is—”

Addy ignored him. Rushing past a stunned Mr. Collier and her gaping aunt, she flung open the laundry room door. The litter box was undisturbed, the food and water bowls untouched. Mr. Fluffy was nowhere to be seen.

“Mr. Fluffy? Here, kitty, kitty.” She looked behind the washer and dryer for the kitten. “He’s gone. I don’t understand. Where could he be?”

Dooley followed her into the laundry room, her entire backend wriggling with excitement.
“Ooh, Dooley know! Stupid cat! Dooley know! Show Addy!”

“Yes, Dooley, if you know where Mr. Fluffy is, show me.”

“Dooley show Addy stupid cat!”

Addy was starting to detect a recurrent theme in the dog’s conversation. Clearly, dog/cat relations remained somewhat strained. Dooley pranced ahead of Addy into the living room.

“Dooley show Addy. Show Addy stupid cat.”

“You hear the dog talking, Edmuntina, or am I having delirium tremens?” Mr. Collier said as Dooley galumped by.

“You’re not hallucinating, Amasa. I hear it, too. That dog talks.”

Mr. Collier wiped his brow with a linen handkerchief. “Thank the Lord.”

Dooley bounded up to the French door that stood ajar.
“There cat! See, Addy?”

Addy looked through the glass. The perimeter of Muddy’s’s backyard was shaded by trees, but at the sunny center of the lot was a sparkling fountain surrounded by fragrant, blooming rose bushes. Flitting from flower to flower on gossamer, diamonddusted wings like a furry overgrown demented butterfly was Mr. Fluffy Fauntleroy.

Muddy walked up behind Addy. “A flying cat! I haven’t seen one of those in years. Not since Etheline died.”

“Ack,” Addy croaked. Her vocal chords seemed to be frozen and her brain right along with them. The world tilted crazily as Brand swept her up and carried her over to the couch. Twisting in his arms, she pointed over his shoulder at the winged feline. “C-cat.”

“Yes, dear, I know it’s a shock,” Muddy said. “The first time I saw one, I fainted dead away. Etheline threw water on me. Ruined my best silk blouse. I was so mad at her I wouldn’t speak to her for a week.” She sighed. “I’d give every silk blouse I ever owned to be able to talk to Ethie again. Lord, I miss her.”

Dooley barked and charged out the door to chase the cat away from the rose bushes. Mr. Fluffy buzzed around the dog’s head, an orange and white horsefly with gauzy wings.

It drove Dooley crazy.
“Cat! Cat! Cat!”

Mr. Fluffy flitted off with the Lab in pursuit.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Muddy closed the door behind Dooley. “They’re playing.” She slid her arm through Mr. Collier’s. “I think we could all use a bite to eat. Let’s you and me go in the kitchen and leave these youngsters alone so they can talk.”

“Sure thing, Edmuntina.”

Mr. Collier gave the frolicking pair of animals a last lingering look and followed Muddy into the kitchen.

Brand lowered Addy to the couch.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Addy scowled up at him. “You knew Mr. Fluffy was not an ordinary cat.”

“I suspected he was one of the fae,” Brand admitted. “A fairy cat, Adara. That is why he refused the meat you offered him last night. The fae have a weakness for sweet things, like nectar and honey.”

“The sugar! Mr. Fluffy must have knocked the top off the canister and gotten into the sugar jar.” She frowned. “But how did he get out of the laundry room with the door closed?”

“Doors and walls are no barrier to the fae.”

As if on cue, Mr. Fluffy flew through the outside wall and into the living room, proving Brand’s point. Dooley bounded up to the French doors and pressed her nose to the glass.

“Cat in?”
Dooley pawed at the door.
“Dooley
IN
!”

Mr. Fluffy sailed back and forth through the wall, taunting the barking dog.

Brand sighed. “Did I not tell you the creature would be troublesome?”

He waved his hand, and the door swung open. Dooley scrambled inside and trotted up to Addy.

Mr. Fluffy hovered around Dooley’s head like a hummingbird at a feeder. “Meow.”

“Addy, stupid cat?”

“I see him, Dooley.”

“Company’s coming,” Muddy said from the kitchen.

Ansgar materialized.

“How does she do that?” Addy muttered. “It’s creepy.”

The dress slacks and shirt Ansgar wore the day before had been exchanged for a pair of jeans and a pin-stripe buttondown shirt worn open at the neck. He was not her type, but Addy had to admit he looked good. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms.

“Greetings, brother.”

“Well met, Ansgar,” Brand said.

Muddy popped into the living room. “Mercy, are they all so big and handsome? I’d better make more sandwiches.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen.

Ansgar arched a pale brow at Brand. “Is it wise, brother, to alert so many humans to our presence?”

“She is a most unusual human, brother. Her name is Edmuntina, and she is Adara’s maternal aunt. She has the sight. She is also handfasted to the Collier human.”

“Ah,” Ansgar said. “The man who sees demons.”

Addy took a deep breath. She wasn’t one to put off unpleasantness. And as unpleasantness went having to make nice to Blondy was clear off the icky scale.

“Uh, Blondy . . . I mean, Ansgar, I wanted to say thank you. That thing you did in the Sweet Shop with the hot sauce yesterday helped convince Mr. Collier that he’s not crazy. He quit drinking, and he and my aunt are getting married. She’s happy and that makes me happy, and we owe it all to you.”

“You owe me nothing,” Ansgar said with chilly hauteur. “What I did was a violation of the directive against conspicuousness. I could have jeopardized our entire mission.”

Jeez, talk about your giant frozen hemorrhoids. Well, she tried.

“Still,” Ansgar continued stiffly, “if some good came of my imprudence I am glad of it. I wish your aunt and the Collier human much happiness.”

“Uh, thanks,” Addy said. Okay, maybe he was a
medium-
size hemorrhoid.

“Addy,” Muddy called, “Tweedy’s here. You might as well ask him to stay for lunch.”

The doorbell rang. Addy jumped off the couch. “I’ll get it.”

Brand beat her to the door.