Page 12 of Monsters of Mayhem

Bale and I huddled in behind the dumpster, but as the sun rose, I was grateful to hear the sounds of small feet walking toward the back door of the Witch’s Den. I didn’t want to startle anybody, but we needed help and we needed it fast and quiet.

“Sofie,” I said, standing up. Bale gave a yelp though and I suddenly realized it wasn’t Sofie coming toward the back door. It was a shriveled old lady in a colorful floral, flowing dress with a large beret on her head, flopping to one side.

She whirled on me, holding her cane out like a weapon. “What are you doing lurking in my alley?” She looked like a crazy lady, a homeless woman. Although she was clean and neat and put together, she was just, well, maybe eccentric was the right word for it.

“I’m looking for Sofie,” I explained. “I’m sorry to startle you.”

“She got called away,” the woman said. Her face softened and she lowered the cane. “My name is Eunice. I run the Witch’s Den.”

“I need help,” I said.

Her gaze flowed from the top of my head down to my bare feet. I was sure my hair was a mess from running through the bushes and falling down the side of the house, but at the moment I didn’t care what I looked like. Hell, the worse I looked, maybe the better off I’d be. Maybe somebody would help me if they could see how desperate I was for some form of help.

“You’re Caroline.” Eunice nodded.

“How did you know my name?” I asked. “Did Sofie tell you?”

“No,” she said. “Sofie‘s been instructed by Ryder not to tell anybody of your presence. Ava is my adopted daughter. I knew she flew you in. Really, you’re none of my business. I know Ryder’s trying to hide you and that’s probably more than I want to know. I don’t like to get caught up in demigod business.”

“I’m not demigod business,” I insisted. “I’m a banshee.”

She just let out a hardy laugh. “You’re a banshee living in New Attica and you don’t think that’s demigod business? You really have a lot to learn about the supernatural world it seems. The demigods rule here and they don’t take to fae. You’re the worst kind of fae. You’re a fae that’s gone monstrous. You’re a banshee. “

“I am not the worst kind of fae,“ I protested. “I’m just somebody who happens to be able to foretell death through singing. It’s not exactly my fault and it wasn’t my plan. All I’m trying to do right now is get back to the normal world.”

“You don’t think this is a normal world?” Eunice asked, tilting her head to the side and looking at me closely. “It’s the world I was brought up in and it seems pretty normal to me.”

I took a big sigh. “I’m not judging. I’m simply saying I want to go back to my normal world, the world I consider, you know, average. Where I wake up in the morning, I get dressed, I go to work, I have some meetings, I do some experiments. I go home and eat popcorn and watch movies with my friends. Well, my friend. I only have one friend, but that’s not the point. I just want to go back to my world.”

“It’s not always the easiest thing to do once you’ve been awakened to the supernatural world,” Eunice said. She looked up as a cat ran into the alley and I saw her suck in her cheeks.

“Come,” she said. “Come inside. We can talk better in there. It’ll also keep you away from prying eyes. I’m sure Ryder’s got some guards on you.”

“He’s got the entire herd of satyrs. Are they called a herd? Or is it more of a gaggle or is it a group. What’s a group of satyrs called?” I mused as I followed her into the dark interior of the Witch’s Den.

I glanced back at Bale and then at the narrow door leading into the back entrance. “Can he come in?” I asked, trying to be polite but knowing I couldn’t exactly leave a hellhound out on the streets of Alameda.

Eunice looked at the grinning beast for a long moment. “Just remember,” she said to him. “If you touch anything or mess anything up, I can turn you into a frog.”

“Can you really do that?” I whispered as I walked by her into the store.

“No,” she said. “It’s not my specialty. No, hellhounds are smart, but they’re not that smart. He wouldn’t know.”

I looked around the small, crowded shop and felt a sense of peace and ease in my chest. Crystals and stones sat on shelves in the walls along with tarot cards and a collection of books; there were all sorts of amulets and incense and silk scarves and altars.

In one corner of the shop there was a small table covered in a purple velvet cloth with a crystal ball on it and two chairs, one on either side.

“You don’t seriously use a crystal ball, do you?” I asked.

“Humans like it when they see it,” she said, “but no, I read tarot cards. I don’t have the gift of sight like that. It’s usually a fae characteristic. You do understand how the witches work, right?” Eunice asked me.

My fingers trailed along some crystals that were sitting on the shelf, a large cluster of amethyst cool beneath my fingers. “Not really,” I said, suddenly realizing how little I had learned about the world I now found myself in. Even though I thought I’d been trying, I’d really been trying to escape it, to leave it, to not want it as my own.

“Each witch basically has one power. We all have the power to create wards and create security, but then we each have an individual power. Sofie can create clouds, not rain clouds, just clouds. Which can be super helpful if you want to hide from somebody or cause a distraction so somebody can’t see you. At the end of the day, it’s just a simple capability. My daughter Ava makes purple lightning. It’s slightly more useful, to be honest. The electricity that powers out of her can do amazing things.”

“What’s your talent?” I had to struggle for the word talent. I was still getting used to the world and I wasn’t sure what to call it.

“Talent is the right word for it,” Eunice said. “I’ve worked hard to have a few capabilities I’ve grown over time. I read tarot cards. I mix potions. I do spells pretty well at this age.” She motioned toward an altar where she had lit incense when we had come in. There were herbs, crystals, and amulets sprinkled together in a copper bowl in front of a burning candle.

---