Earth's Daughter, page 2
My lips rounded in horror as he chomped.
The caught goblin squealed.
“No!” My exclamation didn’t stop Ralph from killing an unlikely rescuer. And by killing, he ate the poor furry goblin whole.
“Run!” I yelled when Ralph flailed his arm while reaching for another. The writhing wave of critters jumped, hitting the ground and bolting as fast as they could. With protection in mind, they climbed back into the dumpster. In a panic, I sprinted past the dumpster for the door to my shop, clutching my keys in a sweaty grip. I fumbled them, looking for the right one.
Jangle. Wouldn’t you know I dropped my keys.
Instinct had me dodging as Ralph reached for me. I whirled to see him, mouth slick with blood and fur. He eyed me with violent hunger. I needed to protect myself, and yet, I had no weapon. My valerian root had been my only defense.
The choice came down to fight by hand or—I glanced at the dumpster—hide.
I ducked Ralph’s next clumsy swipe and shoved at his midsection. He stumbled off balance, and I sprang upward to grab the lip of the dumpster and heaved myself up. Before I’d managed to clamber over the lip, Ralph grabbed my satchel. I twisted my head to let it fall off as I hoisted my butt over the rim of the garbage bin. I yanked the cover down and hoped the obviously unwell Ralph would go away. Or at least come to his senses.
He didn’t.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
He pounded on the side of the dumpster hard enough it dented. I knew because I felt it dimpling under my spread palms. Luckily, it didn’t occur to him to climb in with me. But at the same time, he didn’t appear to be losing interest.
I wasn’t getting out until he left. Nor could I call anyone. My phone remained in my satchel outside the bin. Dumb and nothing to do about it now except hope he left soon.
Bang. Bang. The rhythmic pounding didn’t stop and lulled me into a restless sleep.
When I woke suddenly, it took a moment to realize the pounding had stopped.
Had Ralph left?
I waited. Listened. Wondered if he stood just outside waiting for me to pop my head out so he could—
What I pictured next could be blamed on my best friend, Annie, who loved gory movies and guess who had to watch them with her?
A stirring to my left and a pair of glowing green eyes—slitted and no longer the pretty emerald-jewel version—showed a Goblin creeping from the bags. Or at least I hoped it was a Goblin. The rats in my town could be quite dangerous.
The lid of the dumpster creaked. I held my breath.
The goblin whistled as it turned its eyes in my direction.
“Is Ralph gone?” I asked.
Eyes bobbed up and down. Hopefully it meant yes.
Tense with fear, I rose and lifted the lid fully to look out upon the alley, dark still and yet lighter than the inside of the dumpster. I could see clear to the end of both sides of the alley. Ralph was gone.
Or so I thought until I swung a leg over the edge and looked down. A lump had settled on the ground.
Not a lump.
A body.
Missing its head.
The goblins squealed in joy as I puked my dinner all over the dumpster.
Chapter
Three
A witch had only two choices when confronted with a body. The first was to call the police and deal with suspicious detectives, who would automatically assume I was the reason why a body was missing its head. A few bad hags had given us good ones a bad reputation. It started when a Fire Witch turned a small town in Ontario into a literal hell hole. In her defense, it was mostly there already. Now it actually possessed a portal to the demon dimension to add to its charm.
Calling the cops would see me spending the night at the station. That would be the kindest scenario. Another would put me in a cell for a few days while a lawyer argued they had no evidence.
Neither appealed.
The other option? Deny, destroy, and pretend it never happened.
Ralph was dead. Nothing would change that. Me going to jail would serve no purpose, especially since I didn’t kill him.
Now you might wonder how little ol’ me was supposed to take care of the body of a full-grown man. If I were a butcher shop…
Ahem. I don’t do meat. Ever. I was a vegetarian, meaning, along with veggies and fruits, I only ate ethically sourced milk, cheese, and eggs. Before you ask how that’s possible, my bestie, who happened to be a farmer, sold me the goods. Her animals—raised for personal consumption and selling to select others—produced more than she could ever use, and I was happy to take the surplus off her hands. It helped my little shop thrive among the eco-minded folk in my neighborhood.
As I eyed my satchel, and the phone I could almost see inside, I debated calling Annie. She owned a farm. Plenty of places to bury a body. However, did I really want to get her involved? Didn’t seem like the thing a best friend would do. Although it should also be noted if I called, she’d show up with a shovel.
I could dig my own hole. If I were at home, my garden would help. Decaying bodies did make for good fertilizer. It was why some of the best flowers, especially asters, were found in graveyards.
How to get the body home, though? I’d walked to work. I couldn’t exactly lug it down the sidewalk all the way to my place. It might cause some people to question.
I needed to borrow a car. From whom? Annie would insist on knowing why—and offer to help.
Feeling overwhelmed, I chose to ignore Ralph for a second and entered my shop. I needed a drink of juice to replenish myself and help my brain think.
I sipped wheat grass with a hint of calming lavender as I looked around to see what I had that might help. I kept a few plants in my shop but none big enough, even combined, to rid me of a body in the next hour. Not to mention I was loathe to contaminate them if the body didn’t agree. Ralph might have been seriously ill.
I still remembered what happened to Mrs. McPherson’s rose bush. Rumor had it the ornery old lady died of a heart attack while pruning it and landed in the prickly plant. The bush took care of the body, even mulched the bones, and turned into a raging, flesh-hungry beast with dripping blood-red flowers and poisonous petals. When the Cryptid Authority torched it, it was said all the plants in a mile radius wilted. The story was a sobering reminder you are what you eat.
By the time I finished my drink, I remained without a solution to my corpse problem. Meaning, only one option left. Two, actually: Annie or the cops? I pulled out my phone and grimaced at the screen as I pushed on the door to exit into the alley.
The choice of who to call got taken out of my hands. Why bother? The body was gone.
Chapter
Four
Maybe I should have spent more time searching for and questioning about the missing body; however, my day started at 5 a.m. Given the hour neared one, fatigue wasn’t just tugging at me. It slammed my whole body.
Thank the goddess for taking care of my problem. No body. No blame.
I dragged my tired butt home, twitching at every movement. Whirling at every single benign sound. Despite seeing Ralph without his head, a part of me expected him to pop up.
Eyes barely open, I paid no mind to my house. I fell into my bed and managed a few hours of sleep. I woke at 4:50 a.m., on the dot, my body like a clock. I’d lost my ability to sleep in once I hit my thirties. Now peaking at forty—but happily passing for much younger—I truly was a morning person. I bounced out of bed and hopped in the shower—which I could get done efficiently in like three minutes, including brushing my teeth. By 4:57 I was out the door, a super caffeinated coffee in hand, skipping practically up the road. By 5:30, I had my first batch of muffins in the oven, my coffee drunk, and my next tray being readied for the ovens.
I started seeing people around sixish, as they needed their breakfast fix of muffins, scones, and wake-me up cappuccino pastries with a hex of extra wakefulness for those who struggled with the early hour. Once the morning rush ended, I prepped for the lunch crowd, the most in-demand item being the spelled double stuffed cookie that prevented falling asleep at the desk, some of my specialty cupcakes, and nut-filled pastries. Tarts, more cupcakes, and cream-filled puffs magicked with contentment rounded out my day’s work for the afternoon and dinner crowd. It petered out at six usually, with me making it home by seven. Six days a week because I took Tuesdays off. Sundays, I started later.
Used to be I had an assistant to allow me more free time. Pietrov, a gangly boy training to be a witch, got accepted into the Academy of Magical Arts, and I’d yet to find a replacement. I missed him, especially since I knew I ran myself ragged; however, finding someone who could bake decently for what I could afford? Not easy. And that was without the ability to place hexes.
It made me wonder who had a son or daughter, like Pietrov, looking for an apprenticeship that paid. I might have to put out an ad before I collapsed from running myself ragged. I could also close earlier. Even an hour a day would do me some good.
The day passed quickly, but anxiously. During two lulls, I found myself at the door to the alley, peeking outside. No sign of the body, and despite dropping treats into the dumpster, the goblins remained hidden and quiet.
The busy afternoon cleared me out early, so by five, I flipped the sign in the door over and started doing my cleanup. A rattle at the entrance to the shop drew my gaze. I was ready to yell, “Closed,” only to see Annie outside.
I’d completely forgotten delivery day. I unlocked and held open the door as Annie popped in with her dolly stacked with eggs, a few liters of milk and cream, plus some homemade cheeses.
Those who pictured a farmer would have never guessed Annie belonged to their ranks. My freckled friend enjoyed a mixed heritage that gave her tanned skin, almond-shaped eyes, full lips, and a wild, curly, ebony mane. Her plump frame strained at her T-shirt featuring today’s vegetable—the eggplant—and I had to wonder at the pairing of skintight leggings with a Christmas pattern, especially considering Halloween was around the corner. Annie didn’t care about fashion. She opted for comfort and pounced on huge discount sales—which often explained the holiday theme of her garments that could be bought for seventy percent off.
I locked the door behind her while she wheeled her dolly to the kitchen.
Once there, she whirled on me with wide eyes. “Have you heard?”
“Heard what?” I asked, trying to not wince as she slugged items onto the counter, the eggs tossed as casually as the milk.
“Apparently, everyone in the rehab has gone missing. You know, the one on Smythe Road. What’s it called?” Annie tapped her chin.
“Second Chances. What do you mean everyone went missing? Have their guests escaped?” I called them guests for lack of a better word. If there’d been a breakout, it explained why Ralph had returned. It did not, however, excuse his sudden urge to bite me, eat those poor goblins, or diminish the fact he’d been decapitated and disappeared into thin air.
“Not just the people they had locked up, the staff, too. Every single one right down to the receptionist. Gone. Poof.” She flung her hands in emphasis.
I arched a brow. “That’s a lot of people. Where did they go?”
Annie shrugged. “No one knows. Rumor is the police were going to raid Second Chances, and so they scrammed.”
“Why would the police be interested in the rehabilitation rehab?” Even weirder, why anyone would steal its patients.
“Someone complained about abuse and weird shit going on. Apparently sounded convincing enough they convinced the cops to pay it a visit, only once they arrived, they found the place empty but everything left behind. Clothes, plates, books, even cell phones and purses. As if everyone got up and walked away.”
“That sounds impossible.” Even if there’d been a fire evacuation or something of that sort, people would have grabbed their wallets and phones.
“Not impossible. I’m thinking there was an outbreak.” Annie’s expression lit up as she launched into her theory. “Something so contagious the government swooped in, dropped a sleeping bomb, and took everyone to a secret location.”
Having been friends a while, I knew to expect crazy conspiracies from my best friend. Although, in this case, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. “You know, that makes sense. After all, it would take clout to coordinate the disappearance of that many people.”
My acquiescence led to Annie skipping to her next—in her mind—plausible scenario. “Could also be aliens.”
“Or some evil overlord kidnapping citizens of our town to create a super army to conquer the world.” I threw out the most outrageous thing I could think of.
She nodded solemnly. “Let’s hope not. But if it happens, you know where I keep the guns.”
I did. Annie had several stashes because, unlike me, she was “make war, fuck love.” She’d been burned in the past. Badly. I worried what would happen if the guy who hurt her ever dared show his face again.
“You can keep the guns. You know they freak me out.” I had other ways to defend myself. Better ways than Valerian root. Next time, I’d have a sprig of itchy sumac, maybe a length of rose thorn.
Being in tune with plants meant I knew what could cure and what could hurt. I also owned a few deadly gardening tools if I got desperate. The problem being the idea of doing harm turned my stomach.
Annie tsked. “You’re too nice. It’s good we’re friends. You need me to protect you.”
A bit insulting even if true. Look at how I handled Ralph. Thinking of whom, I really should tell her. “One of those missing folks ended up in the alley last night.”
Annie’s eyes widened. “Who? Was it Ralph?” She used to bring him romance paperbacks once she’d finished them. He’d read them and then light them for warmth. And before you ask, yes, I gave him a blanket. Several. And sleeping bags. He slept in them once then set them on fire.
Given how much Harry, the fire chief, had given me heck the last time he and the firemen from the Thirteenth Precinct came to put it out, I’d learned to avoid giving Ralph large flammable objects.
“It was Ralph, but there was something wrong with him. He tried to hurt me. I escaped but not before he bit a goblin in half.” I wrinkled my nose.
“Ew.” More fascination than actual disgust.
“Right?” I exclaimed. “I thought he was going to eat me, too, and I got all freaked out so I hid in the dumpster for like hours.”
“You were attacked and didn’t call me?” Annie asked, crossing her arms, miffed.
“I would have, only I dropped my phone when I climbed into the bin.”
“Mindy! How many times does it have to be said? Never drop the phone.” Annie punctuated the advice by slapping her hands.
“I know. Trust me, I wasn’t happy given how long I had to hide with the garbage. It took forever before it was safe to come out.”
“So where did Ralph go? Has he been caught? Because he sounds dangerous. Might have to rooster him.”
She referenced Old Sal. The ornery cock got dropped off by someone who drove off too fast for Annie to ask questions. She took in the bird, who turned out to be a giant dick. He didn’t just crow at dawn. It was always timed to be the most startling. Two a.m., followed by five minutes after she fell back asleep. While shaving her legs. Bringing a spoon of hot soup to her mouth. During sex.
Annie believed in treating animals with kindness—even those destined for her plate. Sal wasn’t nice to her or any other creatures. Nor was his stringy ass edible, so she kicked him out. Put him outside the fence and told him to have a good life. It was a bad year for coyotes. Sal never was heard crowing again. On the one hand, Annie didn’t actually have to kill him. She let nature take its course. But on the other…don’t get on her bad side. She would put you outside the fence.
I should have been shocked she’d even suggest doing it to a person, but this was Annie.
“Don’t worry about Ralph. Someone already took care of him.”
“Did the cops pick him up? Or the men in the white coats?”
“Neither. He got decapitated while I hid in the dumpster.”
The statement dropped her jaw and silenced her. For like a millisecond. “What? A man lost his head and I’m only hearing about this now?” Annie shrieked.
Trust my friend to be mad she’d missed out on the action and not the actual crime. “I was too tired and in shock to call. Besides, I knew I’d see you tonight.” A quick white lie.
She grimaced. “I missed all the fun.”
“Hardly fun.” My dry reply.
“Who killed him?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear anything. When I emerged, I found Ralph’s headless corpse on the ground.”
“Did you take a picture?” Her expression brightened.
I shook my head.
“Really, Mindy?” Peeved didn’t begin to describe her tone. “No pic, no call.”
“It was super late.”
“You selfish cow. It’s never too late to call your best friend for help.”
“Sorry?” I kind of was in retrospect. At the same time, I didn’t want to drag her into any muck. “Not sure what you could have done.”
“So what did the cops say about the body?”
“They don’t know because there is no body. While I was inside getting a drink, Ralph disappeared. I don’t know where, or even how. I was only gone minutes.”
“Meaning someone took it, or the body decomposed quickly. Did you see any sludge or ash in the area? Maybe smell something like brimstone?” While not a cryptid herself, Annie knew more about most species than I did. Despite my being consider a sub class of cryptid because of my magic, I barely passed my witch accreditation and never did learn to fly a broom, meaning I’d never achieve the rank of sorceress.
I shook my head. “I have no idea what happened other than Ralph was acting weird then he was dead and gone.”
“Wait, do you think everyone that went missing is like Ralph and acting all kooky? What if they were contaminated with something? Could be the military followed him and cleaned up their mess.”
