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  Family, Esmara said, startling me. I think that’s what you’re searching for. A feeling of family. Something you never had with Ellison.

  It’s true, I never did have a feeling of family with him. And his family, even less so. Why didn’t I say no, we’re having Thanksgiving with my family? Why did I never question him or insist on something I wanted?

  Because he was good at gaslighting. And sometimes it’s easier to give in rather than to argue.

  Esmara had my number, all right.

  For so long, the easiest thing to do had been to keep the peace rather than spark a conflict. While he had never physically threatened me during the time I was with him—all the abuse had been verbal—now I knew better. Ellison was fully capable of physical abuse and I had been the recipient of it.

  But the emotional abuse had been as bad, and sometimes I thought, worse. If he had hit me while I was still with him, I would have left immediately. But I kept excusing the jabs and the slights and derision. Then he’d apologize and say he wouldn’t do it again. Like most women caught up in an abuse cycle, I had wanted to believe him. I’d wanted to believe him so much that I let logic, reason, and my dignity fly out the window.

  Now he’s locked up. I wish I felt fully free of him. I’m happy, Esmara, but I don’t feel it’s settled yet. I thought I would feel free if he was convicted, but I don’t. I still feel…

  Like he’s a weight around your neck?

  Yeah, a rotting albatross that I’m carrying and can’t seem to throw off.

  Give it time. You never know what will happen, and you can’t banish eighteen years of anger and pain with a single year’s freedom.

  I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to carry this around anymore. I didn’t want to carry his memory with me. I was done with Ellison, but his memory wasn’t done with me yet.

  Finally, I walked over to the railing and stared down at the water. The wind churned its surface, sending the waves skittering across the bay. They rolled in, tumultuous, mirroring my feelings.

  I held out my hands. I worked with the element of earth, but I was very much in tune with water. After a moment, I caught the energy of the rollicking waves, soaking up their power, filling my lungs with the scent of brine and seaweed.

  I held the scent in my lungs, letting it wash through my body as it seeped into every nook and cranny. I opened my mind to it, baptizing myself with the cleansing power of the water.

  And then, when I was immersed in the wild magic of the Salish Sea, I let out a sharp breath, streaming out my frustration and anger and all the memories from my life with Ellison. They flowed into the waves rolling against the shore, they swept up and into the air as the wind caught them, tossing them about like toys. I knew this wouldn’t take away the sting forever, but for the moment, I felt cleansed and clear, and I grounded myself into the earth below my feet, holding tight to the feeling of freedom. Someday, I whispered to myself, the anger would be gone for good.

  I tingled from head to toe as I opened my eyes and stared into the eye of the approaching storm, feeling calm and strong and competent. After a moment, the magic began to fade and the bay went back to being just the bay, but inside, the magic remained. Delighted, feeling a sense of joy that had been eluding me for a while, I turned and walked back to my car, ready for lunch and an afternoon of shopping.

  I stopped at the Little Vintage Shop, which was a clothing store. It wasn’t true vintage, but had marvelous retro styles, and most of them came in my size. I had decided I wanted something new for Thanksgiving, so I rifled through the dress racks, looking at everything new since my last visit.

  “Looking for something specific?” Anna Marie—the owner of the shop—asked. She and I had forged a quasi-friendship. The kind where, if you meet in the supermarket, you stop to chat for a bit, or when you’re throwing a big open house, you invite.

  Anna Marie was plump and round, and had shining blond hair that had never seen a bottle of bleach, although there were a few gray hairs mixing into the bunch. She was about five-two, but she was as far from the blond stereotype as you could get. The woman knew how to run her business. She was shrewd, and she was funny.

  “I want something for Thanksgiving, dressy but not fancy.” Then, I saw it.

  The dress was a Hell Bunny dress. Red roses on black, it was a halter design, with a cinched waist and a full skirt. I held it up. “This is gorgeous.”

  “It would look so good on you. Do you want to try it on?” Anna asked.

  “Yes, definitely. Do you have a petticoat to go with it?” I asked, glancing through the rack. Relieved, I saw she had the dress in my size.

  “Yes, go on in and I’ll get one. Red or black?”

  “I think red, with this.” I carried the dress into the dressing room and Anna brought me a petticoat. I slid into the tulle and satin undergarment, smiling at how it flared out. I loved the retro look, and was moving more and more into the lifestyle. I had recently bought myself a pair of trousers with the fitted waistband and wide legs that reminded me of what old-fashioned movie stars wore back in the day.

  I unzipped the dress and slid it over my head, reaching around to zip it up. Then I tied the halter straps around my neck and smoothed the skirt, turning to look in the mirror. The dress accentuated my curves, giving me an hourglass figure, and I truly felt beautiful. I would need a bra with clear straps, but that was doable.

  I pulled my hair out of the ponytail and let my curls fall to mid-back. The effect was like a cloud of red flames surrounding me. As I stared at myself, I realized I was ready for darker hair again—but that was an easy feat.

  “What do you think?” Anna asked from outside the dressing booth.

  I opened the curtain and stepped out. “What do you think?”

  The smile on her face confirmed my feeling. Anna wasn’t one to lie in order to make a buck. I could count on her for an honest appraisal. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous.”

  “I think so, too,” I said, grinning. “I need a pair of sexy-librarian heels.”

  “Wait here. What size are you again?”

  “Size 9,” I said.

  She ducked out of the dressing area and was back within a couple minutes, carrying a shoe box. “Here—try these.”

  I opened the box to see a pair of open-toed pumps with three-inch chunky heels, in black suede. They had a half-inch platform, so they looked higher than they were. I sat down on the seat in the dressing room and slid off my Mary Janes and tried on the heels. Standing, I walked in front of the mirror. The heels matched the dress perfectly.

  “I’ll take all three—the dress, petticoat, and shoes.”

  “I’ll meet you at the counter, unless you’re looking for anything else,” Anna said.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”

  Ten minutes and two hundred dollars later, I waved good-bye to her. After locking my purchases in the backseat, I drove to Lucky’s Diner, had fried chicken for lunch, and then headed home, feeling much happier and more grounded than I had earlier that morning.

  When I got home, I eased into the driveway and stared at the house. Once again, I had an odd feeling. “I wish to hell I knew why I feel so weird.”

  You’d better prepare yourself, Esmara said.

  I jumped, startled. What are you doing in the car?

  I decided to take a ride with you. I’ve been here ever since you left the pier. By the way, the dress is gorgeous.

  Thank you, but what the hell do you mean, I’d better prepare myself?

  You’ve got company, Esmara said. He’s not dangerous, though, as far as I can tell.

  Dangerous company? Ghostly company?

  Not exactly…

  The way she let the words drift, I knew whoever my guest was, he had to be something special, and I wasn’t thinking good special. You didn’t have to be evil to be trouble. I hopped out of the car, grabbed my bags, and straightened my shoulders. Esmara didn’t seem to be particularly worried, so I wasn’t afraid, but I still s
teeled myself for whatever was waiting.

  As I unlocked the door and entered the living room, I glanced around. Nothing as far as I could see, except for Klaus, who was conked out on the sofa. I ruffled his fur, dropped my bags by the couch, and shook off my jacket. The hairs on my arms stood up. There was someone in the house—even though I knew that ahead of time, now I could feel it for myself. I stood, then headed into the kitchen.

  There, sitting in the kitchen nook, petting Xi who was curled up on the corner of the table, was a large creature who reminded me of a combination of the Thing from the Fantastic Four comic books, and Hellboy, from…well…Hellboy. He looked up, startled, and for a moment we stared at one another.

  “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” I blurted out.

  He looked up at me—I assumed it was a “he”—and grunted. “It’s not my fault. You brought me here and I can’t seem to leave. I’m Tarvish, a Funtime demon.”

  And with that, he turned and went back to petting Xi, cooing at her.

  Chapter Seven

  My mouth dropped open and I swayed, my knees weak. Tarvish jumped up and thumped around the table, pulling out a chair for me. I sank down onto it, unable to decide whether to run or stay. But the wards hadn’t gone off, and when I glanced at the table, I saw that he was doing a crossword puzzle in a book of puzzles he’d found somewhere.

  “What the…I don’t…” I stopped, unable to formulate my thoughts into words. Finally, I took a deep breath and stuttered out, “What do you mean, I summoned you here? I don’t remember summoning you. I don’t summon demons.”

  “Well, I can’t appear where I’m not summoned, so it had to be you or one of your friends.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Nice house. I’ve never seen anything like it. What’s that?” He pointed to the range.

  “A stove. And…um…thank you?” Everything felt surreal. I gripped the edge of the table for moral support. Xi gave me a lazy yawn and jumped up, padding across the table to me. She purped, licked my hand, then jumped down and headed toward her food dish.

  “She’s so adorable!” The words coming out of the demon’s mouth seemed absolutely contradictory with his appearance. His head was lumpy and looked like he had a bunch of rocks stuffed under his thick olive skin—and it was a true olive color, like green olives. He had massive hands and feet, both bare. And, perhaps most odd, he wore a pair of blue jeans that were too tight and too revealing, showing exactly which gender he was and how well-endowed he was. His eyes were wide-set, and he had horns curling up off each side of his head, pointing straight out. All in all, he looked almost like a cartoon character.

  “What the hell is a Funtime demon?” I asked.

  Tarvish, who had started up with the puzzle again, set down his pen. “Well, we’re demons who have a lot of fun. I love gambling, games of all kinds, kittens, banana bread, gold, and killing orcs. And I’m good with throwing fireballs when needed.” He sounded like he was reciting a spiel for a centerfold spread.

  For one of the first times in my life, I was speechless. I felt like I should say something, but I was having a hard time thinking. Finally, I landed on, “You love kittens?”

  “Well, cats of all kinds. They’re my buddies. They love me, too,” he said.

  “Where are you from? You said I summoned you. So where did you come from?”

  He paused, frowning. After a moment, he shrugged. “I don’t know. All I remember was that I was chasing a party of orcs with a band of adventurers.”

  Okay, things were getting ridiculous. Orcs didn’t exist—at least I didn’t think they did—except in Tolkien’s world. And I didn’t remember any such creature as a Funtime demon in Lord of the Rings. I eased out of my chair.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back. You…continue with your puzzle.”

  “All right,” he said. “But if you have anybody you need beaten up, let me know. I’m good at that.”

  I ducked into the dining room, then hurried into the living room and pulled out my phone. I wasn’t sure who to call but decided to start with Tad, my boss. I could ask him to look up Funtime demons and then I’d call my grandmother.

  Tad answered on the first ring, which didn’t surprise me. He was brilliant, but he didn’t have much of a social life. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Um, Tad, can you come over to my place? I don’t know if Hank’s busy or not, but if he’s free, bring him and Caitlin along. And bring your laptop.”

  “I think Hank left on vacation. He took off after work yesterday. But I know Caitlin’s around town, since she said she’s attending your Thanksgiving celebration next week. Your ghost isn’t back, is he?” Tad instantly went on alert.

  “No,” I said. “This…isn’t a ghost. I honestly don’t know what to think.”

  “On my way,” he said. “I’ll call Caitlin.”

  I wasn’t going to bother Wren, our receptionist at Conjure Ink. Her husband was adjusting to a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, and she didn’t need any more stress than she already had. Next, I called my aunt and asked her to come over, and finally, I called Rowan.

  “Rowan, I need you here.”

  “You’re not going to force me to bake, are you?” she asked. My grandmother made excellent cookies, but she wasn’t a patient cook.

  “Not today. Just…bring your magical kit and hurry, please.” After I had reinforcements on the way, I unlocked the front door and then returned to the kitchen, where Tarvish was drinking a glass of milk while working on the crossword.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I helped myself to some milk.”

  “No, I don’t mind.” It occurred to me that, since he was in a good mood, I wasn’t going to unbalance the boat by getting surly about a glass of milk. “Would you like some cookies to go with it?”

  He glanced up, a smile spreading across his face, which made him look more scary than pleasant. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you. And forgive me, I’m terribly rude. What was your name again?”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to give him my name. I knew that, for a number of creatures, knowing someone’s name gave you power over them. And I didn’t want any demon gaining any power over me. On the other hand, when everybody showed up, somebody would end up using my name.

  “I’m January,” I said.

  “Ah, named after the coldest month of the year,” Tarvish said, going back to his puzzle.

  So he was familiar with the Gregorian calendar. I set a plate of cookies in front of him and once again retreated to the dining room, where I waited until the doorbell rang. Hurrying to open the door, I ushered Tad and Caitlin in.

  “What’s up?” Caitlin asked.

  “One moment—I see Teran coming up the walk.”

  My aunt came in. I asked her, Tad, and Caitlin to sit down in the living room. “Just wait and don’t talk, please. I want Rowan here before…well…you guys are not going to believe this.” I didn’t feel like trying to explain who and what Tarvish was more than once. It would be hard enough once Killian got off work.

  Rowan showed up five minutes later and I motioned for her to follow me into the living room, where I spoke in a hushed voice.

  “In my kitchen, sitting in the nook, is…well…he calls himself a Funtime demon. His name is Tarvish. He says I summoned him but for the life of me, I have no idea what he’s talking about. He also says that the last thing he can remember is he was…and I know this sounds stupid…but he was helping a party of adventurers chase a group of orcs.”

  They stared at me, with pretty much the same expressions that I felt on my face when I first saw Tarvish.

  “What the hell is a Funtime demon?” Tad asked.

  “I have no idea, except he apparently likes kittens, puzzles, games, gambling, gold, banana bread, and…killing orcs. Only when he told me, he reminded me of a centerfold reciting her turn-ons, from some porn magazine or one of those goofy online dating profiles. I half expected him to add long walks along the shore at midni
ght.”

  I sat on the ottoman. “I have no idea what he means by saying I summoned him. I did nothing of the sort. Have any of you heard of a Funtime demon?”

  “No,” Rowan said, an unsettled look on her face. “Can we meet him?”

  “He’s eating cookies and milk and doing a crossword puzzle right now.” I led them into the kitchen. Tarvish had finished the puzzle and was sitting back, examining one of the cookies.

  “These are good. I’d love the recipe—” he paused, looking up. “Oh, you have company! I don’t mean to intrude, but I don’t have anywhere to go right now.”

  “Tarvish, I’d like you to meet my friends. This is Tad, and Caitlin. And Teran, and this is Rowan.” I introduced them in turn and each reluctantly shook hands with him.

  Tad settled into a chair next to Tarvish and Caitlin hopped on the kitchen counter to sit. Teran and Rowan sat down at the nook, and I moved over next to Caitlin.

  “Where are you from?” Rowan asked.

  “Like I told January, I’m not sure, to be honest. I can’t seem to remember where my home is.” Tarvish bit the head off a gingerbread man and another smile spread across his face. “This is yummy,” he said, making a smacking sound that disconcerted me to no end.

  “And you said the last thing you remember is…?” Tad asked, pulling out his laptop.

  “I was with my buddies,” Tarvish said, scratching his head. “Well, I was oath-bound to help them, but they’re a good band of rogues. Anyway, we were chasing a group of orcs who stole the SlimStone from the Castle Detwager. We followed them through the Forest of Discontent and ended up driving them into a cave. They’re fast and devious, though, and the idiot magic user accidentally cast a spell of blindness on our group, and we got lost, wandering around the cave in total darkness. The last thing I remember was fighting an ochre jelly. Those things are damned hard to fight, and it was attacking Ulantrum when we found ourselves trapped by a beholder on the other end of the tunnel—”