Deceptive Dime Store Demons, page 13
Chapter 18
Not long into our drive back to Jersey, I got a text message from my mom inviting the Granthams over for dinner at their house. As weary as I felt after working today and facing Seamus, the very idea of diving face-first into a Stravinsky family meal relaxed me a little.
There was nothing like home cooking and my family’s antics to make a day end well.
I told Thorn, and he chuckled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Did they mean all the Granthams, or just Will and me?”
“Knowing my family, they want everyone to come over so they can make sure Farley is behaving.”
“Good point. So how do we make him go? He’s never gone before.”
True, but like all werewolves, Farley often thought with his stomach.
I asked Brenna if she wanted dinner, but she declined. “Nick invited me over.”
“You should definitely skip my family dinner, then.” I returned her smile and thanked her for her help.
After we dropped off Brenna at her apartment, we returned home to find Farley fast asleep in front of the television. His mouth hung wide open as he maintained a tight grip around a beer.
He wasn’t alone, either.
Thorn and I paused at the edge of the living room and gaped.
Our intruder, which stood no taller than my knee, perched on the sofa next to Farley and helped itself to the beer nuts in the bowl on the coffee table. The red and white cotton clothes it wore were threadbare, but its silver buckle shoes shone. Its wrinkled face scrunched up as it gobbled up the goods.
“What is it?” Thorn mumbled. My mate’s body tensed as he prepared to pounce on the intruder, but I grabbed his shoulder when the creature leaned forward and wrested the beer from Farley’s hand—without waking the wolf up.
“I think that’s a clurichaun,” I whispered.
“What is that?” Thorn took a step into the living room.
The clurichaun guzzled down the beer, smirked at us, then tossed the bottle at Thorn’s head. With an annoyed growl, my mate caught the bottle in midair. The creature used the diversion to make a run for it into the kitchen.
We darted after it, but our visitor escaped out the back door and into the night.
Thorn circled the house, but I doubted he’d find it.
My mate returned inside, all the while shaking his head with a grin. “It’s gone.”
“It’s probably in the cellar,” I explained. “Back when the Basilisk King started to leave chests everywhere, Karey and the other wood nymphs searched the house. She told me the place was safe, but that we had one of those things sleeping in the cellar.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not really. Karey told me they’re drunken troublemakers.”
That got an amused snort out of Thorn, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Some folks dealt with bats in the attic or bugs behind the fridge. We had a drunken fairy in the cellar, but at least it hadn’t harmed anyone.
“Do you think it will come back?” Thorn added.
“Probably. Have you seen how much alcohol we’ve had in the house lately?”
Thorn peeked into the fridge and sighed at seeing how many bottles of beer we had left. “I’ll take these out to the SUV. We can leave them over at your parents’ house.”
The moment Thorn had stowed the bottles away in a box, Farley woke up to start a fuss. “What are you doing with my beer, boy?” he snapped.
“We got a pest problem.” Thorn explained the issue with the fairy in the cellar.
Farley harrumphed. “Can’t we set some traps? Maybe kill it with bug spray?”
I gave a quick smile at the thought of taking the clurichaun down like a cockroach. “How about we leave it alone for now?”
That got me a scowl from Farley, but I ignored him to say, “Look, my parents invited us over for dinner. You could hang out and have some cold beers with my family.”
Farley scratched at his shaggy blond hair. His scowl deepened as if he considered refusing our offer, but eventually he nodded.
With that matter settled, I considered hiding the whistle in the house, but since no one would be home to guard it, I nestled the whistle into my pants pocket for safekeeping.
Ten minutes later, we parked behind a bunch of cars next to my parents’ Colonial-style home. I’d expected a small family dinner, but as usual, the Stravinskys had decided to invite every werewolf in town. A few pack members arrived before us, and I could hear their raucous laughter from outside the house.
I glanced at my father-in-law in the back seat. He clung to the box of beer like he didn’t want to share it. Since he knew the Stravinskys well, that might be the best plan of action.
After Thorn and I left the SUV, Farley reluctantly got out and limped up after us. I opened the front door and the noise rolled over us, but I embraced it. We’d arrived just in time, too. I caught the decadent scent of chicken tabaka. As a child I loved to watch Mom prep the chickens, sprinkle them with seasonings like cilantro, turmeric, and garlic, then fry them until the skin turned brown and crispy. My mouth watered as I imagined the meat settled in oil and sizzling in the cast-iron skillet.
There’s no better place than home base, I thought.
I’d yet to see Mom ruin a dish—unless Dad distracted her. And I suspected after he did the deed, he’d disappear for a couple of days to escape her wrath.
Members of the Stravinsky clan, as well as a pocket of pack members, had stuffed themselves throughout the living room, kitchen, and dining room. Kids darted from one of the bedrooms and squeezed around us to go play outside. I didn’t want to sit anyway when Mom would have a plate ready and waiting.
Thorn nudged his dad into the room. On the TV, the cheers from a recorded soccer match in Russia were nothing compared to the pack’s roar of approval at Farley’s appearance.
“Good to see you out and about,” Uncle Boris shouted.
“And you brought refreshments this time,” another uncle added with approval.
No one approached Farley until Aunt Vera, the boldest wolf in the room, helped herself to one of his malty beverages. The pack swarmed in as Farley took the theft in stride.
Uncle Boris stepped up to him last and snagged a drink. Of course, a heavy wave of my uncle’s pepper-spray-scented aftershave made Farley grimace.
“Boris, there are outhouses in the woods that smell better than the shit you put on,” Farley griped.
Uncle Boris chuckled. “To the ladies, it’s the nectar of the gods. I get you some. Get you back on the market.”
“I’m good,” Farley replied. “Y’all can help yourselves, but you need to save a cold one for me, you hear?”
That got laughter from the adults. I wanted to tell him to hold tight to one just in case, but Thorn snagged two out of the box.
With my father-in-law somewhat settled in, I had to greet Grandma. She sat on the sofa on the far side of the living room. Grandma Lasovskaya gave me a toothy grin, and her speckled brown eyes lit up when I knelt to greet her eye to eye. My grandma was older than every werewolf in here. A long time ago, she immigrated from Russia, and had lived to see many great landmarks like the Statue of Liberty being built.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“I’m starving. Do you need anything?”
She patted my hand with her wrinkled, warm one. “Return the whistle soon. I don’t want you around those demons anymore.”
“Don’t worry.” I touched the whistle in my pocket. “All of this will be over soon enough,” I replied with a chuckle.
She slowly nodded, but her hand lingered on mine. Concern flared in her eyes, and I wondered how much she knew about demons.
I left her to head into the kitchen to join Mom and Dad.
Dad glanced up from his seat at the kitchen table. I leaned down to kiss his cheek. The dark stubble tickled my lips. “Natalya, how did you manage to bring Farley?” he asked me in Russian.
“We tied him up and dragged him here,” I joked.
That got a look of amusement from Dad; not so much from Mom.
“I’m surprised you got him to come,” Mom said in English. “He never wanted to leave the cabin after Pearl died…” Mom’s remarks trailed off as the man in question came into the kitchen with his beer. Guess he’d lost the box to someone. Thorn came up behind him.
Mom hid her embarrassment with a smile as she grabbed a plate. “We were excited to hear you’d come, Farley. There’s plenty to eat if you’re hungry.” She added a full chicken to the plate and topped the meat with wild rice. She didn’t wait for his protest.
“I could use some chow.” Farley ambled to sit down.
Had he heard Mom’s remark? If he had, he gave no sign.
Farley, Mom, Dad, and I sat at the four-seater table. Thorn leaned against the wall and slowly sipped his beer. Mom and I stole glances in his direction until Dad said in Russian, “He’s not a wild animal. Let the man eat.”
“Something wrong, Fyodor?” Farley asked.
“Your boy and his wife need to eat.” Dad looked to Mom. “Anna, get these kids eating before they waste away to bones.”
Mom got up and pushed Thorn to take her place to eat. While my mate and I attacked our food, Farley did the same, licking his fingers and humming with appreciation. The small smile at the corner of his mouth reminded me of the time when I’d received a warm welcome in this house again. Less than a year ago, I’d walked into this house as the pariah of the pack. Time passed, and when I returned, I wasn’t a stranger anymore.
I tried not to imagine him sitting all alone in that cabin, but the image flared and my heart broke. Thorn had told me Farley had visitors now and then, but most of them were related to business matters. Sadly, I’d never dropped in to say hello or bring a plate of food. Who’d want to march into that messy hovel and come face to face with someone that reminded them of their weaknesses?
I let Farley eat in peace as the front door opened. The pack greeted the new arrivals, and I caught my brother’s laugh in return.
Alexander Stravinsky, or Sasha as my family lovingly called him, and his family had arrived. My gaze flicked to Mom. If I hurried, I might be able to snag my niece before her grandma took over.
Mom put down her spoon, but her oven timer beeped.
Ha, saved by the buns.
Mom had to butter those too, so I had a couple of minutes.
In the living room, I spotted my brother’s little family. I made a beeline for Karey and little Sveta. I’d seen Sasha enough growing up. Time to spoil my niece. I reached for her, and Karey surrendered her baby with a chuckle. At nine months old, Sveta continued to develop faster than a human. Since her father was a wolf and her mother a nymph, she’d have quite the interesting future.
“Where’s Mom?” Karey asked, grabbing some covered dishes from Alex’s hands. Based on the ghastly smell from within, Karey had made vegan fettuccine alfredo with almond milk and stinkhorn mushrooms again.
Hungry werewolves ate anything, but even we had limits.
“She’s in the kitchen,” I told her.
Then I turned to my niece and rained kisses on her cheeks. Little Sveta smelled like baby lotion and sunshine. I wish I could hold her all the time. “Did you miss me, Printsessa?”
I stuck to the living room until I heard Mom calling for me. My bonding time had come to an end. As alpha female, I couldn’t pull rank over Mom when it came to her grandchild, but I could take my time… So I sashayed and danced my way to the kitchen. Sveta giggled and hopped against my hip.
Yep, we’re taking our time to get to Grandma.
Once we reached the kitchen, my mom snatched Sveta and gave her only grandchild a sugar cookie. Like any feisty pup, the baby devoured the cookie in two chomps.
Karey followed us into the kitchen and placed her dishes on the table. She triumphantly uncovered them. Farley took one look, shuddered, and kept cramming wild rice into his mouth.
Mom, Karey, and I chatted for a bit. I loved the normalcy of hearing about Sveta growing out of her clothes and Karey’s volunteer work in the state parks. If I hadn’t spent the day searching for that damn whistle, it might’ve been any other evening with my family.
But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t forget that.
We continued to chat, but Sveta quickly got tired of her spot on Mom’s hip. She squirmed and tried to escape. Even a cookie bribe from Grandma didn’t keep that kid from her master escape plan. Mom kissed the top of her grandbaby’s head and put her down. I reached for her, but my niece scampered past me to the kitchen table.
Dad’s smile widened as his granddaughter climbed up on one of the seats.
“You want some help, sweetheart?” he asked gently in Russian.
The pup ignored him and pulled herself up like a professional climber. Dad and Thorn shifted plates aside to make room for her.
“Stop spoiling her, Fyodor,” Mom chided.
“Hush, wife.” Dad offered Sveta a bite of chicken, but the child shook her head.
Thorn chuckled at the sight. “That’s not enough meat, Fyodor. Give her more.”
All conversation in the room ceased as Sveta took a chicken bone from Farley’s plate. The child used what little teeth she had to nibble on the bone.
“Svetlana, no!” Karey reached the table in two steps.
“Leave her be.” Farley added another chicken leg bone to Sveta’s other hand. “Will was the same way when his teeth were comin’ in.”
A sigh of relief slipped out of Mom. “Was Thorn that way too?”
Sveta got tired of nibbling on one of her bones and tried to use one to stir the vegan fettuccine alfredo, but Farley pushed the bowl to the side. “That boy was hunting down prey right out of the womb. Pearl always said he had a hunter’s eye.”
“Pearl would be proud of the fine men they’ve become,” Mom said softly.
“She would be.” Farley took a long look at Thorn.
My mate relaxed in his seat. Our gazes met, and the grin he gave me told me that this dinner had been good for everyone.
Chapter 19
Hiding Cerberus’s whistle away gave me stress beyond measure, but then again, hadn’t all the trials and tribulations I’d faced in the past prepared me for this moment? Night fell and morning arrived, bringing another day.
Today, as alpha female, I had to lead my pack to remember and mourn our fallen.
This morning the South Toms River Pack held a burial service for Francine Dalton at Mom and Dad’s church. Pack members filled the pews, their heads lowered, words spoken at a whisper. Thorn and I paid our respects to the Dalton family, but no matter the condolences and words of encouragement, our words didn’t feel like enough. Nothing would bring Francine back.
The only thing the family wanted was revenge.
After the service, we took Farley and Will home. I wanted to stay behind to spend time with the silent men, but I had something far more important to complete: I’d finally decided to fix up my former home for someone else.
Before we left my parents’ place last night, I’d spoken to my mother and told her about my idea.
“I love it,” she’d said. “But are you ready for this?”
“I’ll never be ready, but I want to do the right thing.”
She gave me a long mama bear hug, and she sprang into action late into the night, unleashing the power of the Stravinsky clan to help their own. Now all I had to do was follow through too.
Before I escaped to the cottage, I made a quick stop at the demon’s mart to see if I could use an employee discount to fetch something that caught my eye not too long ago.
I pulled into the lot to find Dayla helping a customer load aquamarine planters into the back of their Subaru Outback. She waved when she spotted me.
“Good morning, Nat!” She gave me her usual bright smile. Today her white T-shirt featured a kitten buried in balls of rainbow-streaked yawn. I wondered if she hoarded those T-shirts or cats. Probably both.
“Hey, Dayla. I’m looking for a gift.” I gestured to the beautiful stone wolf with a butterfly perched on its nose. “Any chance you’ll sell that to me? I do understand if you can’t since Mimi doesn’t like me right now.”
“Oh, Mimi can stuff it. Of course, you can buy it.” She gave me a mischievous grin. “I won’t tell her if you don’t.”
“Deal.”
We walked inside and Dayla rang up my purchase.
“You look tired, Nat. You doing okay?” she asked as she took my money.
“It’s been a long morning and the day hasn’t started yet.”
“Still looking for Mimi’s whistle?” She walked around the counter to approach me with concern.
“Oh, I finally have it.” I slowly shook my head. “She’ll get it back soon enough.”
Dayla pursed her lips and sighed with sympathy. “Let’s get you that wolf! You’ll love it.”
With the stone ornament packed into the back of my Nissan, I left the stone store ,and soon pulled up to my former home. Before I’d fought Erica and moved in with Thorn at his house across town, I’d lived here alone as the pariah of the South Toms River Pack. Remembering that time always felt like exposing an open wound to alcohol. I had wonderful memories here, but as I took in the forest surrounding the small two-story house, I wondered if this place could offer Farley a wall of protection from the outside world like it had for me.
Time to get to work.
With the whistle safely hidden away at home with additional security from the pack, I grabbed a shopping bag full of cleaning supplies and marched inside.
Not long into sorting the supplies into piles for each room, the Stravinskys arrived to offer a hand. Mom and Aunt Vera took over the kitchen. They set up a buffet table for the hungry wolves. My uncles and father set about tackling any pending inspections on the water heater and air-conditioning unit. More hardworking Stravinskys, consisting of my cousins, plowed through washing windows, linens, and curtains as Aggie arrived in Erica’s BMW coupe with trays of pretty white daisies.
