Chapter Seven #3
“You understand that you’re still a potential target, right? Even though the wolves didn’t attack you at the senior center?”
“So are you.”
“Yeah, but he was always going to come after me. After I put down one of his beta wolves because Floyd was too much of a bastard to bother with him, he painted a bullseye on my back. Without the blackmail on my phone, I’d already be dead.”
“What you did for that beta was a mercy. The pack knows it.”
“Some do.” It had been one of the worst days of my life, and I had a few to choose from. I reached for a lighter subject. “You heard Cecil firebombed his bar?”
“You bet I did.” Ida cracked a grin. “Nobody hurt, and he added a Mardi Gras flourish, to boot. I’ve been meaning to ask you why.”
“Why he firebombed the bar?”
“Heavens, no. That’s obvious. It’s Cecil. Why the purple, green, and gold display?”
“I was curious about that, too. Apparently, he wanted it to look pretty. At least, that’s how I was made to understand it.” I spread some jam on the other half of my toast triangle. “Cecil isn’t only an ecological anarchist with a penchant for fire, he’s highly attuned to incendiary esthetics.”
She grinned. “So, he believes he’s creating a combustible composition?”
“He considers himself to be a sort of explosives Whistler,” I said with a laugh. “That’s the only esthetic artist I can recall off the top of my head.”
Conversation was more relaxed after that. I told her about Rory’s call, and how she’d expressed how excited she was to be my cunada, or sister-in-law, which seemed like jumping the gun to me but made perfect sense to Ida.
She ate the rest of her eggs, we polished off the toast, and I refilled our coffee mugs. One of Ida’s favorite K-pop idols, RM, sang “moonchild” on an app on her phone.
When the song was over, I said, “I’m going to have to use that Floyd blackmail soon.”
Ida reached across the table and patted my hand. “But it’s the only thing keeping you safe from him.”
“It only protects me if Floyd is Alpha. Once Ronan takes him down, it won’t matter. Might as well use it to weaken him while it’s still worth something.”
“I suppose that’s true.” She withdrew her hand, settled it back on her mug. “It’s about to get dangerous, isn’t it?”
“Ida, Gladys almost died yesterday. We’re neck deep in danger now.”
“I know. I was there.” The tremor in her voice had me reaching out for her hand this time.
“Anyway, I wasn’t only talking about what’s happening with the wolves. I was talking about what’s happening with you.” She looked at me, sorrow in her eyes. “Tell me you’re communicating with Sexton about your demon side.”
“I am.”
“And what has he told you?”
“That my elemental magic is colliding with my demon magic.” I shrugged. “Hey, interesting aside—he hates Bloody Mary. Did you know that?”
“Everyone hates Bloody Mary. She hurts kids, and that’s the sort of evil even some demonic beings shun.” Ida waved the subject away. “What’d he say about your demon magic?”
I filled her in, ending with: “So, there’s a chance I might go batshit if I don’t die first. Isn’t that a lovely gift from the father I never met?”
“And the grandfather you have.” She picked up her mug then set it down without taking a drink. “Huh. A Hades guardian.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been out of the game too long. Thirty years ago, I’d have known about your dad. Things like that were part of my job.”
“It’s a little more embarrassing that he’s my father and I didn’t know. I mean, I don’t even know what he looks like.”
“Your mother never showed you a picture?”
“She said she didn’t have one.”
RM’s “everythingoes” slid into “forever rain.” Ida sang the English parts. She appeared to be deep in thought.
“You could ask Sexton if he has one.”
“No,” I said.
“Understood,” she replied. She was fine with him helping me, but she’d never fully trust the cemetery demon.
I took our empty mugs and her plate into the kitchen. By the time I returned to the table, she was chair dancing to Megan Thee Stallion and RM’s “Neva Play.”
“I’m heading home,” I said. “Dishwasher is loaded.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.”
I hugged her. “Ronan and Gladys were out all night, but they should be back soon. I want to be home when they return.”
“Gladys looked pretty good when I left. She’s a real cute wolf.”
Gladys was a seven-foot-long Mexican gray wolf with teeth that could chew through a car tire. Cute wasn’t the first word that popped into my head when I thought about her in that form.
“Stay in the park for now,” I said on my way out. “Just until I know what Floyd’s planning.”
“Not a chance.”
“Ida.”
“No. They came for my friend.” She jabbed at her chest with her index finger.
“I’m not some frightened, defenseless old lady.
I am a necromancer.” Her voice grew louder, lower, and markedly scarier.
“I will not cower. Besides, you aren’t responsible for keeping me safe, so you can get that out of your head right now. ”
“All right.” It wasn’t, but arguing with Ida when she was in this kind of mood was an exercise in futility. Best to keep her close. “Want to come with me to see Beau later this morning?”
“Better take the boys instead. I’ve got some calls to make. Hang on a sec.” She rose from the table and went into her bedroom, reappearing a second later with a sleepy Meredith. “Can you drop her off in the garden room?”
The Mictlan mandrake unfurled her leaves and gave Ida a look of ultimate love. If the cursed plant’s tiny eyes could’ve formed into puffy pink hearts, I’m certain they would have.
“On second thought,” Ida said, “take her with you. For protection.” Meredith looked like an angry Medjool date and had a scream that could peel a person’s ears off their head. All Mictlan mandrakes did.
“I’ll put her with the rosemary.”
She pushed the flowerpot into my hands. “Your choice, but I think she’d be an asset.”
The little plant peered up at me, her downturned mouth the width of my thumbnail, her tiny eyes pinching into irritated little slits. Meredith was bonded to Ida, and Ida only. She tolerated everyone else.
“Come on, Meredith. Let’s go.”
The plant’s eyes widened; her leaves flattened against her stem. Her tiny mouth formed a perfect “o.”
Uh-oh. I’d seen this expression before.
“Uh, Ida? Something’s wrong.”
The mandrake let rip with a murderous scream. My ears reacted with pain, then silence, and eventually, a piercing buzz. The display on Ida’s cell phone cracked, and the glass in the sliding glass door leading onto her back patio wobbled in its frame.
Ida grabbed Meredith out of my hands and rubbed her thumb over the creature’s head. Her mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. My guess was she was cooing at the tiny monster, trying to calm her down.
Finally, the plant’s mouth cinched shut. Ida tucked the small clay pot into her robe pocket and picked up her phone. She peeled off the broken screen protector. Thankfully, the phone was intact.
She typed something then pointed at my pocket, where my cell phone was.
I took it out, grateful I also used a screen protector. I peeled the broken thing off and set it beside hers.
Ida: Sorry. She’s been annoyed since I came home hurt.
Me: No problem. We’ll talk later. The charm from last night should heal your ears.
I gave her a smile that was as fake as the reasoning she’d given me and left.
We both knew the truth. Meredith hadn’t been reacting to Ida’s injuries. She’d been reacting to me.
With terror.