Don't Rhine on My Parade

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Mom? Mom, are you awake?” Fingers jabbed into my eye and pried it open.

  “Aurgh,” I moaned and yawned. It was seven a.m. I yawned again; I had gotten nowhere near enough sleep last night. And I had also forgotten to check the gate in the girls’ hallway. Obviously it had been left open, hence my early morning visitor. Mark was still peacefully snoring. I burrowed back into bed and mumbled, “No, I’m not awake.”

  “But I saw your eyes,” Megan persisted.

  “No you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did. See?” The little fingers found my eyelids again and poked.

  “Ow!” I tried to pull my pillow over my head. “Go talk to your father.”

  “But I need help, Mommy.”

  “Why?” I groaned, “It’s too early in the morning. Go back to sleep.”

  “I can’t go back to sleep.”

  “Why not?” I sighed.

  “Cassidy woke me up.”

  “Tell her to go back to sleep.”

  “She can’t.”

  “Why not?” I asked again.

  “Because she’s crying.”

  “What?” I sat up in bed. “Why is she crying?”

  “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  “She’s stuck.”

  I cocked my head to listen. I could hear a faint wailing. I was out of bed in a flash and down the hall. The closer I got, the louder the wails grew. When I burst through the door I couldn’t see Cassie at all.

  “Cassie?” I called, looking frantically around.

  “Mommy!” came a cry from under the bed. I flopped on the ground and peered under. She was trapped back against the wall, since someone had pushed two toy strollers, a step stool, and various other stuffed animals and toys in around her.

  I started to clear a path. “I stuck! I stuck!” she cried.

  “It’s okay. Here you go. Just wiggle out now.” She finally made it with a little pull.

  “Megan!”

  “Yes?” Megan looked the correct mix of innocence and concern.

  “How did she get stuck?”

  “She crawled in there.”

  “I know she crawled in there; how did she get stuck?”

  Megan shuffled one foot on the floor and searched for answers on the ceiling.

  “Did you push all that stuff in after her?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Okay, I’ll tell the truth,” she broke, “I wanted her to be quiet so I stuck her under the bed.”

  I rubbed my bleary eyes and yawned yet again. I could get mad, but many were the times I wished I could stick them both somewhere to make them be quiet.

  “Be nice,” was all I said and headed for the door.

  “I’m not in trouble?” Megan asked in wonder.

  “Not right now,” I said tiredly. “I’m going to get a shower. Just be good ‘till I get back.”

  Mark was getting up when I came back in the room. “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

  Fun? Not exactly how I would put it. “Yeah. We had a good time,” I lied.

  “What’d you do?”

  Oh, you know, met a vampire, talked to an ancient Egyptian goddess, battled some witches and walking plants, the usual.

  “Um, we just kind of drove around, got some food, you know, saw the sights.” I ducked into the bathroom to avoid further prevarication. I’m a horrible liar. I would take pride in that except then I would be trading one sin for another.

  The girls finished breakfast quickly for once and headed out to the backyard to play. I sat at the counter sipping my coffee in peace. For someone who loves having a plan and a schedule I was a little at a loss. I didn’t even know if there was something I could be doing right now.

  “Mommy!” Megan yelled. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”

  “Yes?” I called back without turning around.

  “There’s a dragon in the fort that wants to eat us!” I could hear Cassie mock screaming and running around the yard.

  “That’s nice,” I replied still drinking my coffee. Maybe I should have talked to those two men last night. I could use every vote I could get.

  “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Megan yelled again.

  “Yes?” there was a touch of annoyance in my voice.

  “Cassie and I are birds and we’re eating all the bugs in the yard.”

  “Good, honey.” What would really happen if they voted not to accept me? How much did the future of the human race really depend on this? Would they execute me? What about my children? Would my girls have any of my abilities?

  “Mommy!” Megan interrupted my thoughts.

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a big man in the backyard who wants to come in the house.”

  “Uh-huh.” I wasn’t really paying attention.

  “No, really, Mommy. There’s a big man and his friend and they want to come in the house.”

  “No men in the house,” I said absentmindedly. I had to do something. I took my coffee cup over to sink and rinsed it out. When I turned to put it in the dishwasher I glanced out the back window. Sure enough, there were the two men from last night standing in my yard, talking to my children.

  Never mess with a mother. I didn’t even stop to think. I ran to my bedroom, grabbed the shotgun off the top shelf of the closet, grabbed the handful of silver loaded shells, and starting feeding one in as I ran to the backyard. I had two shells in and was pulling the stock to my shoulder before I even made it out the door.

  “Megan. Cassidy. Go inside, now,” I commanded, the Voice coming easier to my lips each time I used it. They waved goodbye to the two men and trotted past me into the house.

  The Fae stood relaxed, hands at his sides with an obnoxious grin on his face. The were started by looking at me in disdain, then he sniffed the air. His brow furrowed and he slowly raised both hands above his face. The Fae looked at him in surprise.

  “Silver shot,” the Were rumbled and the Fae quickly put his own hands above his head.

  “Mrs. Cavanaugh,” he said smoothly, “I assure you, we mean you no harm.”

  I was trembling with rage, “How dare you come here, into my backyard, talking to my children!”

  “We did not wish to be seen at your front door,” the were growled. “May we put our hands down?”

  He still didn’t really think I would shoot him. I wanted to pull the trigger just to prove I could and would, and to get revenge for his first disdainful look, but I didn’t. I lowered the shotgun slowly. “What do you want?”

  “First, shall we introduce ourselves?” the blond man asked, like he was at tea with the queen.

  “Fine,” I said shortly, “You know me. Who are you?”

  “I am Kethudrim, Elder of the Seelie Court, and this is Jonathan Halbert, of the weres.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said sarcastically, “Now what do you want?”

  “Would you mind pointing that thing somewhere else?” Jonathan asked.

  “Look. I don’t know what you want, but you show up in my backyard, threaten my children, and you expect me to ask you in for coffee?” My trigger finger was getting itchy. Jonathan took a step forward and I swung the barrel up at him again.

  “Take another step and you’re dead,” I snarled. I had seen too many movies where the stupid hero lets the bad guy get too close and then gets the gun knocked out of his hands. That was not going to happen to me. Granted, a dead werewolf in my yard would be a little harder to explain to the authorities than a dead human, but, if mankind was doomed, it wouldn’t matter for long.

  Kethudrim put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Patience, my friend,” he said soothingly. “We have a request to make of you,” he said to me, “If you will hear us out, we will explain how we can be of service to each other.”

  The side gate creaked and both men’s eyes swiveled to look behind me. Great. There could be nothing there, and when I turned to look, they would overpower me and take the gun, or someone c
ould be sneaking up behind me to jump me and I was standing here like a dunce not looking. I took some cautious steps back towards the house, keeping one eye on the trespassers and trying to get a peripheral view of the gate.

  “What’s going on?” It was Cecily. I almost dropped the gun in shock. She looked awful: haggard, tired, bags under eyes, and skin pasty white.

  “You’re alive!” I blurted.

  She rolled her eyes, “Yes, I’m alive. Now what’s going on?”

  “But the sun!” I looked up in the sky to make sure the sun was still there.

  “Old wives tale.”

  “Perhaps we could talk over coffee?” Kethudrim suggested.

  I waffled mentally, then decided I felt safer with Cecily there. Although the idea that vampires could be running around in the daytime was a little unnerving.

  I waggled the shotgun at the men and they entered the porch before me. “I thought vampires burned up in the sun,” I hissed at Cecily. Little surprises like that were not welcome at the moment, but I was glad she was there.

  “We lose most of our abilities during the day,” she replied. “And it’s not the most comfortable feeling in the world, so if you don’t mind,” she headed for the house. Both men had paused at the sliding glass door. They looked back at me expectantly.

  Cecily moved forward slowly, as if testing the air and then smiled. “You have wards up! Very good!” I’d forgotten all about the herbs. Yesterday seemed like a lifetime ago. “You have to invite us in.”

  “You are all invited in,” I said with a sour smile, “just for today,” I added, hoping I could really add a time limit. Maybe I should rescind the invitation as soon as we were done talking.

  I paused at the door, shotgun in hand, and surveyed my domain. A Fairy was in the kitchen helping himself to the coffee pot, a werewolf was trying to get comfortable on one of the counter stools, and a vampire was pulling the curtains shut over one of the windows so the sun wasn’t in her eyes. Home sweet home.

  “Mommy, why do you have a gun?” Megan asked at my side. “Are you going to shoot some ducks for dinner?”

  I grimaced. “No, honey, now go to your room to play with Cassidy,” I commanded. They ran off giggling to their room and slammed the door. I turned my attention back to my unwelcome guests. “So,” I said grimly, sitting at one end of the kitchen table and placing the shotgun, none too subtly, on the table before me, “Why are you here?”

  Jonathan, the werewolf, eyed the gun apprehensively and chose the chair to my right, somewhat out of the barrel’s direct line of fire. Cecily chose the seat to my left, leaving the seat straight in front of the barrel for Kethudrim, who sat down without concern, coffee mug in hand. They all eyed each other in distrust.

  “Bloodsucker,” greeted Jonathan with a sneer.

  “Dog,” shot back Cecily. Jonathan snarled and started to jump to his feet.

  “Pet. Tinkerbell. Mosquito.” I pointed the shotgun at each one, “Shut up and play nice, or do I have to permanently separate you?”

  Jonathan and Cecily relaxed somewhat in their chairs. Kethudrim smiled questioningly, “Tinkerbell?” he asked.

  I shrugged, “Fairy, Tinkerbell. Top of my head.”

  He grinned at me lasciviously, “I assure you, my dear, there is nothing tiny about me. Nor do I play children’s games. But I do like to play with women.” He looked suggestively over the parts of me showing above the table. “Beautiful women,” he added.

  I rolled my eyes, “And I’m a married mother of two, so, not interested. Now, if we can have a normal conversation without insulting, or attempting to seduce each other, that would be nice.”

  Jonathan snorted back a laugh. “Fine, human. There is a certain object we wish for you to retrieve for us.”

  “What kind of object?” Cecily interjected.

  “A statue,” he said quietly.

  My eyes narrowed, “What kind of statue?” I could just picture myself trying to run off with the Lincoln Memorial.

  Kethudrim reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture. It was of a small, clay (or perhaps brown stone) carving of a naked woman. She had massive breasts, a rounded belly, and exaggerated genitals. It was hideous. I made a face and pushed the picture back across the table.

  “Eww. Who wants that? The art police?”

  Kethudrim touched the picture reverently, “She is a fertility statue.”

  I wrinkled my nose sarcastically, “I couldn’t tell.”

  He frowned at me, “You would not understand such things, human.”

  “I know ugly when I see it.”

  “Appearance is not important.”

  I pulled the picture back towards me and looked at it again. Yup, it was still as ugly as ever.

  “Well,” I said dryly, “it must be an anti-fertility statue, because one look at that would definitely knock my husband out of the mood.”

  Jonathan snatched the picture. “We do not need your artistic opinions.”

  I glared at him, “So what do you need?”

  “We need you to—” Kethudrim paused and looked up at the ceiling, “recover” he decided was the right word, “the statue for us.”

  “You mean steal,” Cecily yawned.

  “Steal!” I squeaked, “You want me to commit a crime?”

  “It was stolen from us,” Jonathan growled.

  “Who stole it?” I asked suspiciously. Anyone with the balls to steal something from the werewolves was probably not the kind of person I wanted to mess with.

  “Will you do it?” Kethudrim asked.

  “Who stole it?” I said louder.

  “The question is whether you are willing to retrieve this for us,” he said coolly.

  “Who stole it?” I yelled.

  “The WAND,” Jonathan muttered.

  “Oh ho ho,” I shook my head. “I am not going to mess with them. They already hate my guts.”

  “All the more reason to obtain a membership in the USB. Without that you are as good as dead,” Kethudrim pointed out.

  “Cecily?” I pleaded.

  She rubbed her eyes. Man, she looked bad. If I looked that bad during the day, I probably wouldn’t go outside in the sun either. “He’s right, Piper. If they will promise to vote for your acceptance it would be worth the risk.”

  “Two votes! Two lousy votes! I need three. Two still gets me killed.”

  Jonathan looked down his nose at me, “Two is all we can promise. The UnSeelie Fae will most undoubtedly vote against you; with our votes you at least have a chance. The Naga are notoriously hard to predict.”

  “So this is basically blackmail,” I complained.

  “Call it what you will,” Kethudrim shrugged, “we need you and you need us.”

  “Just for kicks, let’s pretend that the statue is off the table. What would you take in its place?”

  “Your children,” Kethudrim said. I started to laugh until I saw he was in earnest. Jonathan nodded as well.

  “What?” I screeched, “You can’t be serious!”

  “In place of the statue we would accept both your children as substitute.”

  “Ask me after a shopping day,” I muttered. I looked around the table. I couldn’t see a way out. I really liked living and there was no way I was giving up my kids.

  “Fine, Rumpelstiltskin,” I grumbled. “But you have to tell me what is so special about that stupid statue.”