Chapter 4
Gunnar hadn’t expected the imp’s keeper to be so … hot. Or to smell so … delicious. He’d realized as he arrived at her house that she was where a lot of the honey in town came from.
He drove past her place every time he went to town. If he’d known this was where the honey came from, he might have stopped to see if he could buy honey directly. If he’d been in the mood to interact directly with someone.
It was easier just to buy a jar or three from the Local section at the Shop-n-Save.
When he got home, he was having a big slice of the cake he’d picked up at Delaney’s. Possibly with some ice cream. He’d earned it after dealing with that imp.
And he was going to eat his dessert in front of the television while watching another episode of Time Traveling Accountant in peace.
It was good to be free of the imp, but losing some of his chocolates only made him grumpier. Still, it was a small price to pay for getting that thing out of his—
The imp appeared in front of him. “You were rude to Mattie.”
Gunnar almost drove off the road. He slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side. “What are you doing in my truck?”
The imp smirked. “You’re stuck with me until you make your three wishes. I tried to tell you that. Mattie tried to tell you that.”
“No, no, no. I dropped you off at her house. I’m done with you.”
The imp flew forward, bopped Gunnar on the nose, then flew back. “Silly shifter. That’s not how this works.”
Gunnar growled. “Go home.”
“Until these wishes are granted, my home is your home.” Blueberry turned to look through the windshield. “Drive faster. I’m getting hungry again.”
Gunnar stared at the ridiculous creature. “You are not going back to my house.”
Blueberry sat on the dashboard. He lifted one hip and let out a green-tinged puff of air. The smell that followed almost made Gunnar vomit. “Not eating makes me gassy.”
Gunnar hit the power buttons and put all four windows down while trying not to breathe. “That’s … not … how it … works.” He leaned out the window, sticking his head into the clean air, gulping a breath untainted by imp emissions.
“It is for me,” Blueberry said.
As soon as Gunnar’s eyes stopped watering, he pulled his head back into the cab. “I want you out of my truck now.”
“Nope.”
Gunnar’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in until he was mere inches from the creature. “Do you know what I am?”
Blueberry’s nose wrinkled. “You’re some kind of smelly, forest-dwelling shifter, I can tell that much.”
“I’m a bear.” Gunnar drew the word out for emphasis. “I don’t like people. I don’t like other animals, unless they taste good, and I don’t like you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Blueberry waved a hand in front of his face. “Your breath smells like pepperoni.”
Gunnar let out a moan of aggravation and rested his forehead against the steering wheel.
What had he done to deserve this? All he’d wanted was some chocolates and a nice, relaxing night.
Now here he was, saddled with this thing, and the chance for a nice, relaxing night was looking bleaker and bleaker.
“There, there, Yogi,” Blueberry said as he petted Gunnar’s hair. “Just make your wishes and this will all be over.”
Gunnar jerked upright and snapped his teeth at the imp, causing him to tumble backwards through the air.
“No. I’m not an idiot. I know all about magic wishes and the way they can go wrong.
And your keeper just told me you’re a chaos imp.
You really think that makes me want to have anything to do with you?
Not a chance. And why are you called Blueberry anyway? You’re green.”
“Why are you called—what is your name?”
“Gunnar and I don’t see—”
“Ooo, is that supposed to be a tough-guy name? Gunnar? Like you’re made of guns?”
Gunnar glared at the imp. “For your information, I’m named after my grandfather, who was part Viking. He’d probably have eaten you by now.”
“Hey!” Blueberry stomped a foot on the dashboard, which caused a little cloud of green dust. “You try to eat me, and I will magic every hair off your body. You think bears are tough? Ever seen one without fur?”
Gunnar put his hands up. “How about I just take you back to Mattie’s?”
Blueberry rolled his eyes. “Are you, like, the dumbest shifter in the entire town? I already told you it doesn’t work that way. Just make your wishes.”
“So you can twist my words, create some kind of havoc, and blame it on me? Not a chance.” Gunnar rolled up the windows and pulled the truck back on the road. If the imp wanted to come home with him, then fine. But the imp was going to get bored pretty fast.
Gunnar would just shut him out. He could go weeks without talking to anyone. At some point, the imp would get tired of being ignored and go look for someone else to bother.
Starting now, the imp was getting the silent treatment.
He kept his eyes on the road and drove. Blueberry made a few comments, which Gunnar didn’t acknowledge, then the imp lay down on the passenger seat and went to sleep.
Gunnar got home, parked, and headed for the house.
The imp flew in behind him. “Where’s that pizza? I could go for a slice.”
Gunnar got the cake out and cut it into eight generous slices. He’d already decided to forgo the ice cream. The cake would be enough.
Blueberry hovered close by. “I could eat cake instead. I’m good with that.”
Gunnar plated a single slice, boxed up the rest, and put it back in the fridge.
He grabbed a fork and carried the plate out to the living room, where he’d left the TV on, his show paused.
His second bottle of root beer was still on the small table by his chair, probably a little flatter than it had been when he first opened it.
He sat in his chair, kicked his feet up, and took a bite. The cake was good. No surprise there. He’d never had anything bad from Delaney’s shop. His eyes narrowed as he picked up the honey in the frosting. Was that Mattie’s honey? He had a feeling it was.
Blueberry flew in front of him. “Hey, I would like some cake too.”
Gunnar carried on as if the imp wasn’t there. He set his plate on his lap, grabbed the remote, and hit play. He shifted slightly to see past the imp.
Blueberry floated back into his line of sight. “Okay, I would like some cake, too, please.”
Gunnar ate another bite, then laughed as the accountant, Adrian Ledger, realized he’d stumbled upon another dead body.
Blueberry planted his fists on his hips. “Hey. I’m talking to you.”
Gunnar kept eating his cake and kept ignoring the imp, who seemed to be getting more frustrated by the moment. Gunnar almost smiled. Good. Maybe the annoying creature would go back to Mattie and leave him alone.
The imp was muttering now, buzzing back and forth through Gunnar’s field of vision, arms crossed when he wasn’t wildly gesticulating.
It was kind of amusing, but he’d twice had to rewind because he’d missed something. He finished his cake, set the plate aside, and reached for his root beer. He took a long swig. And immediately spit it out. It tasted like vinegar.
Grimacing, Gunnar glanced at the bottle.
Then he heard laughter. Tinny, imp laughter.
He glared at the creature. “Not funny.”
“Really? Because I think it’s hilarious.”
“Go back to Mattie’s.”
Blueberry was smart enough to hover just out of reach. “Or what? You can’t do anything to me.”
Gunnar grabbed his plate and his ruined bottle of soda and took them into the kitchen. He dumped the bottle into the sink, the acrid scent of vinegar wafting up. He dropped the bottle into recycling and put his fork and plate into the dishwasher.
He stared out the window at the forest beyond. For a moment, he thought about shifting and going for some nature time. It was a great way to de-stress, and this imp had certainly given him a need.
But he really didn’t think leaving the imp alone in his house was a good idea. Also, Gunnar had work tomorrow. He should be getting to bed.
Which would also leave the imp unsupervised. He thought a moment, then grabbed the strainer he used to wash fruit and drain pasta.
He turned and almost ran into Blueberry.
“Are you making something else to eat? Can I have some this time?”
Gunnar brought the strainer up and around, coming down on top of Blueberry and caging him in it against the kitchen table.
“Hey! Let me out of here! You can’t do this to me.”
For good measure, Gunnar set his heaviest coffee mug on top of the strainer. He crouched down to see through the holes. The imp looked mad enough to spit. “We’ll see if you’re ready to go home in the morning.”
With that, he turned off the kitchen lights, turned off the television, and went to bed.