I pressed the probe into the charred, dark flesh. The heat radiated against my skin and a prickle of sweat bubbled on my lip.
"MAGGIE! Are the steaks done?"
I backed away from the BBQ and blinked the smoke out of my eyes. "Not yet. You got that corn husked for the grill yet?"
It was the 4th of July and my entire family was celebrating the season in some random park close to Mindy's house in Pasadena. There were wide expanses of grass for people to enjoy, some of it even still green and not completely browned out by the summer sun. There were little signs all over the place touting that the city used reclaimed water and not to drink from the sprinklers. Split wood fences separated the park from the parking lot, but were more decorative than useful. A mob of screaming kids were climbing through the railings and, for the lack of slides and swigs, turned it into playground equipment.
Balloons and tablecloths festooned the picnic sites in red, white, and blue. Someone had set up a volleyball net, but it was too darned hot. The party opted, instead, for sipping cerveza beneath the shade of a eucalyptus tree. There were a few hearty souls like myself trying to grill on the park-provided metal grates, but at this point, I was thinking we should've headed out for a bucket of KFC and called it a day.
"I have unwrapped all of the wiener dogs from their plastic casings!" announced Killian proudly.
Now, the elves might be a pretty people, and super smart about certain things, but there are some translation issues between humans and the hunky fairy folk. Killian is my business partner and co-owner of M&K Tracking. While this six-foot something, blond Adonis with pointy ears can stake a vampire with the best of them, cooking junk food ain't one of his skills, bless his fuzzy vegan heart.
I looked down at the plate he presented me. "Killian, you didn't need to take off the casing from the hot dogs. I just needed you to remove the packaging."
He looked down at the pile of mutilated processed meat massed together next to a wad of sausage skins. "It seemed like packaging that one would not care to ingest."
"That's just a thing with hot dogs."
"Is the word not 'wiener'? As mentioned in that human ode to this food by the culinary expert Oscar Meyer?"
"We try not to say 'wiener' in polite company, Killian." He looked at me with confusion and I realized I didn't want to get it into it. "Just trust me."
He sniffed the plate. "So, humans eat this? On the fourth day of the month. Is it only this month or is it the fourth day of every moon cycle?"
"There's a few more times of the year when they are culturally appropriate," I answered as I put the steaks on a plate and tried to indicate he should put them on the table instead of standing next to the BBQ asking me questions about processed meat.
He looked down at the perfectly grilled beef and then over at the pink mush. His head tilted before he very profoundly asked, "Why?"
"One of life's mysteries." I gave him a shove and he wandered over to my mom to pepper her with the sort of questions you get from a four-year-old. I pulled out some aluminum foil and regarded the hot dogs. I tried to mush them back into general hot dog shapes, but they had lost their magic. I glanced over at the family one picnic site over. Dressed in red, white, and blue, a little girl with perfectly curled pigtails and a boy with a bowl cut were roasting their dinners on skewers above the charcoal, looking like something straight out of the gawddamned Brady Bunch.
Meanwhile, my dad was wearing a Three Werewolves Howling at the Moon t-shirt and Mom had busted out her firework print muumuu. My black "I Stake Steak" apron was feeling a little out of step with the whole Americana vibe. I smoothed my neckguard and hoped that folks assumed it was just a funny looking turtleneck.
In the span of taking my eye off the grill for that one moment, though, Killian's veggie kabobs decided to go up in flames. I grabbed the metal skewers and blew out the green pepper.
"It seems a bit blackened," Killian noted as he returned with a clean plate.
"Like my soul," I responded. "It's good for you. Charcoal filters out stuff in the blood. And stuff."
"I am not entirely sure that is how anatomical cleanses work," he answered.
"Scrape it off and call it Cajun. It'll taste fine, you whining wiener."
"I thought you said that word was not used—"
"I said not to use it in 'polite' company." And then I booped him on the nose.
"Ah," he replied. "Noted! Such an educational holiday!"
Speaking of education, I was going to need a gawddamned masters degree in culinary sciences to figure out how to undo the damage to the hot dogs and serve them in a form other than lips-and-assholes tartare.
The family next door had moved on to their dinner. There were no shouts about spilled mustard or 'drink your water before you chug the 2-liter of grape soda.' Not even so much as a belching competition. Just cheerful laughter and comments along the lines of, "This is the best hamburger ever!" There was something just not right about them.
But speaking of eerily perfect nuclear families, a shout interrupted my picnic envy. "Can someone give Austin a hand?" Mindy called.
Perfect Mindy with her perfect hair and her unwrinkled linen capris and crisp cotton maternity top came toodling along with a perfectly cut fruit salad housed in a watermelon carved like a basket. Which was, of course, perfectly done perfectly. A wad of the hot dog mush fell through the grate and caught fire on the coals.
Austin, my sister's husband, was struggling with an Igloo cooler as Father Killarney, our family's Irish Catholic priest, stumbled alongside. His white hair was sticking out in all directions and his eyes were already rheumy. Evidently, Father Killarney's version of helping was lightening the load one beer at a time.
He raised his open can of American pilsner in our direction. "To liberty! Justice! And the American way!"
"There's a lot of shouting in this family!" my dad shouted as he walked over to grab the end of the cooler from Austin.
"HIP HIP HOOORAY! IT IS THE DAY OF THE BIRTH OF THIS GREAT LAND WHICH LED TO THE HOME OF THE MIGHTY MAGGIE MACKAY AND HER PARTNER KILLIAN OF GREENWOLD!"
Hidden behind Austin was everyone's favorite brownie, the small fairy creature Pipistrelle. He was a couple feet tall and as bald as a cue ball. His round little body was shaped like an apple with some twigs poking out of it for limbs. He was dressed in a young boy's blue sailor suit to try and fool the locals into thinking he was somebody's kid. But his wee little arms were filled with enough munitions to get us all put on the no-fly list.
"Who told Pipistrelle to pick up fireworks?" I asked suspiciously.
Austin rolled his eyes and shook his head, not saying a word.
Mindy picked up where his nonverbal left off, though. "Pipistrelle did it without any of us knowing." The little brownie's chest puffed out with pride. "He bought them and packed them all in the trunk of the car all by himself. He said he wanted to surprise us."
"By blowing you both to kingdom come while sitting in traffic?"
"The explosions are a part of the day's celebration!" Pipistrelle pronounced with enthusiasm as he dropped his load of fireworks on the ground. "HIP HIP HOORAY FOR THE EXPLOSIONS!"
"Is that a professional grade MORTAR?" I asked in horror.
"We shall all be the most festive in the whole park as we explode everything with the most patriotic of spirit!" He then began a rousing rendition of Three Cheers for the Red, White, and Blue as he did his best kazoo impersonation with his mouth. He ended kneeling on one leg with jazz hands, his bitty chest heaving with exertion and excitement.
"He really worked hard," Mindy said, giving Mom a distracted kiss on the cheek.
"And I see no impending danger," Mom stated, the plastic bangles on her wrists jangling in emphasis. "Relax, Maggie! You're always looking for a reason to blow things up. Now it is the actual holiday where it is actually encouraged and you are a bundle of nerves!"
Dad patted me on the back. "It's gonna be great."
"Many thanks for the financial support for this evening's entertainment!" Pipistrelle announced, handing Dad a wad of change.
"YOU financed the procurement of illegal fireworks?" I accused him.
"It's what future grandpas are supposed to do." He leaned over and kissed Mindy on the cheek.
Mindy looked around the park and sighed a contented sigh. "I love that we found this place. Not too crowded. Nice and shady under these trees. What a perfect spot for a picnic!"
I glared at the family beside us who were totally showing us up on how picnics are done.
"Heads up, Killian!"
A flying disc flew towards Killian's head. He reached up and grabbed it a split second before it cracked him on the temple.
"Great catch!" Austin yelled as he ran backwards. "Throw it over here!"
Killian looked at me and held up the plastic ring. "What is this?"
Father Killarney interrupted, deciding now was one of the few times he'd get to mansplain something to a centuries-old elf. "It's called a Frisbee there, Killian. You throw it. And I have heard tell that it is supposed to be something along the lines of fun. You should try it and report back."
Two-handed, Killian tossed the Frisbee more like a water balloon than a Frisbee, and it floated to the ground like someone had lost hold of their plate.
Austin cupped his hand on either side of his mouth. "Come ON, Killian! Send it my way!"
"The least you could do is actually show him, Father Killarney." I went over and picked up the disc for Killian. "It goes like this." I demonstrated, winging it across the field.
Austin caught it on the run and threw it back. I saw the lights go on in Killian's brain as he realized what the deal was. He leaped up and grabbed it in midair like a dog in an agility competition. But when he returned it, Austin made the mistake of catching it behind his back and then he did an under-the-leg throw.
Oh, it was on.
Killian was in full-on dork mode. He started doing cartwheels and double toe touches in between throws. Not as he actually caught the Frisbee or anything, but just to show off. I could see Austin realize what monster he had unleashed. I grinned. His problem. Not mine. I was not going to deal with any monsters today unless pressed into going after the fanged kind, and even then, only if they were headed for someone's throat. Ah! Independence Day!
Except nothing can be drama-free in the MacKay world. Not even a simple game of Frisbee. In his fit of enthusiasm, Killian tripped over a rock or stepped in a gopher hole or something and went headlong into the picnic of a neighboring family.
Bowls of chips and paper plates went flying. Muffled cursing drifted across the air and into my ears. From the center of the disaster, lying smack dab in the middle of the picnic blanket, Killian held up his arm. "Caught it!"
As perfect as that one family was on one side of our picnic area, this family was decidedly not. As I jogged over, I got just a jingle of a buzz that they were not from around these parts. In fact, I realized their nearness had been an optical illusion. Big boned was putting it politely. I'd put down cash money Killian had managed to land in the one picnic blanket of the only half-giants in Pasadena. And they were none too pleased to find an elf in their egg salad.
I quickened my pace, reaching out for Killian's hand so that they would know he was with me and to pause for a moment before they did anything that got their vacation permit pulled.
"I am SO sorry," I said, lifting Killian to his feet and brushing off the bits of food from his backside. "It's his first Fourth. He's not from around here. He just discovered Frisbee. I'm SO sorry."
The dad fixed me with a steely glare. His eyes were black and hard and inset beneath his heavy brow. He pointed a finger the size of my whole hand in my face. "You keep that fairy riff-raff away from my family and everything is going to be just fine."
For the record? Elves and giants? Not good friends. In fact, there's a centuries-old war that has gone on between them over forest rights. The only ones giants hate more than elves are dwarves. But dwarves are kind of assholes, so I can't really say I blamed them too much.
"It was an accident," I explained again, trying to smooth things over. "We have a lot of food over at our site. Would you care to join us? Or can I bring some over?"
Here's the deal. Vampires? It's okay to stake them because they are already dead. Werewolves? If they're coming at you, it is self defense. But a nice family of giants who are hangry because you ruined their dinner? Any court on the Other Side would vote that the dad had every right to remove Killian's spine through his head socket.
The dad was having none of my peacemaking. "We wouldn't touch something that has been filthied by your kind."
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" I said, holding up my hands. "Let's keep it civil here. We're all Other Siders, just trying to pretend like we belong here in this great big melting pot called Earth."
"I'll melt you in my pot," the giant warned. "And grind your bones into my bread if you don't get out of here."
The mom and daughter were starting to flank us like they were ready to turn this into a WWE backyard brawl. And me without my folding chair.
"Got it," I said, grabbing Killian's arm and dragging him away. "We can take a hint. So sorry! We're gone!"
Killian glanced over his shoulder as I force marched him as quickly as possible. "They seemed quite unfestive. Do you think they would have benefited from experiencing a Frisbee firsthand? I could give them this one."
"You landed in their egg salad, Killian," I reminded him. "They don't want your Frisbee. They want to eat you as a side dish." I tried brushing the mayo bits off his blue, silk tunic. "That's going to stain."
He looked down in disappointment. "Oh, dear." And then the dumb elf took the tunic off to get a closer look.
I stood directly in front of him, arms outstretched, trying to make sure no one called the cops on us for indecent exposure. "Killian put your clothes back on."
He pointed to a couple shirtless guys lounging in the grass. "But there are other males here without their upper garments on."
I could see Father Killarney over at our table cross himself and then put his hands over Mom and Mindy's eyes, both of whom tried to peer around his fingers. I glanced over my shoulder at Killian and explained, trying my best not to look down at all the nakedness he had on display. "Those men are wearing pants."
"I am wearing a covering on my lower extremities."
"You are wearing red tights gartered with gold and white ribbons," I hissed. "Now put on your shirt."
"But—"
"You walking around looking like your lower half has been dipped in a vat of scarlet paint and decorated like a maypole by a bunch of flying pixies is unacceptable on this holiday."
Grudgingly, he put his tunic back on. "Human holidays are quite formal."
I gritted my teeth and smiled at the odd glances we were getting. "Yes, human holidays are totally a no shirt/no shoes/no celebration situation."
"Do all holidays follow that rule?"
"You can take your clothes off on Valentine's Day."
"Ah! I shall look forward to that. Is it allowed in public arenas or merely among those who are acquainted?"
"There's a lot of nuances," I replied, trying to shut this conversation down.
The rustling stopped. "You may turn to face me. I am clothed again."
We walked back towards the table and Austin looked like he was about to bust out in laughter.
"Nice tights, Killian," Mindy commented, dryly.
"Why, thank you," Killian replied, glaring at me like his point was proven. "I have worn the obligatory red, white, and blue demanded of the day and it is good to know my efforts are seen by some as the respectful homage they were intended."
"What time is the parade?" Dad asked, changing the conversation.
"9:00PM," Mindy said. "Followed by the fireworks immediately afterwards."
So, it is hot as balls in Los Angeles. And fire mixed with the dry tinder and the heat of the day is a recipe for disaster. Plus beer and heat stroke. I gave the side-eye to Father Killarney, dressed in his priestly polyester blacks and sucking down his lord-only-knows-what-number-he-was-on beverage.
The city council this year had decided to take a page out of the local theme park book and put together a night parade, which is actually a pretty cool thing when you hang out with an elf and a brownie and the whole using-night-as-camouflage thing works out.
"How about we get this dinner rolling before the sun goes down?" I asked, resulting in a chorus of celebratory agreements as our crew picked up their paper plates and started helping themselves to the spread.
"What happened to the hot dogs?" Mindy murmured to me as she scooped the pile of processed meat into a heap on her bun.
"Killian helped."
"Ah," she replied. "Elves sure ain't brownies in the kitchen, are they?"
"Don't rub it in," I replied.
"I hear they're good at other things, though."
I gave her shoulder a shove.
"Did I do an exceptional job aiding in the production of the pink meat product?" Killian asked, stepping in between us.
"The best pulled processed meat product I've ever had," Mindy answered, trying to be diplomatic.
"Ah! Have you had much pulled hot wiener?" Killian asked.
"Don't answer that," I said to Mindy, stopping her before things got out of hand. "Killian? What did we say about that word?"
"But the song!" he insisted and then, to prove his point to No Fun Maggie, broke out into the Oscar Meyer commercial jingle. And because my family is nothing if not team players, they all took it as their cue to join in, singing it at the top of their lungs.
"See, Maggie?" he concluded as the song ended. "Wieners are a commonality in the human zeitgeist that brings people together."
"Don't make me feed you to the giants, Killian."
We all sat down on the rough picnic table. It was splintered and worn and I probably should have thought of handing out tetanus shots with the handiwipes.
But for all the everythings it took to get to this moment, I had to agree with Killian when he said, "What a lovely celebration!"
The kids were playing and families were winding down and the heat was starting to dissipate into a mere warm summer's night.
"A toast!" Dad said, holding aloft his can of piss water beer. "To the kings and queens that rule us both past and present and the fight for independence every day of our lives." He gave mom a great big kiss on her cheek and she giggled through the macaroni she had chipmunked in her cheeks.
Dinner done, we wandered our way across the field, making sure to steer clear of the giants' turf. We walked down the cracked blacktop road and found ourselves a quiet spot on the curb as dusk fell.
Austin had Pipistrelle strapped into one of those baby backpacks to try and play the "just a normal family out to see a parade" angle. But a couple well intentioned folks made the mistake of looking too closely as they cooed at Pipistrelle. It was kind of funny watching them try not to blurt out that there was something really wrong with our baby.
But Pipistrelle was eating it up. He bounced up and down with excitement. He had augmented his sailor suit with a paper Uncle Sam hat on his head. He had two small flags clutched in his two small fists and he gazed up at them as they waved like they were the prettiest things he had ever seen.
It wasn't the Rose Parade by any stretch of the imagination, but the little local parade had its charm. It started off with a family that was serving as the grand marshal sitting in the back of someone's pickup truck. They had tacked some bunting on the side. Behind them was a marching band from the high school. As the sky darkened, their light-up shoes and the phosphorescent glow tape on their uniforms was surprisingly impactful. Pipistrelle really dug them. He kept trying to crawl out of the backpack to bust a move, but while we might be able to get away with an ugly baby, an ugly baby that can break dance is a little much, and Austin had to keep shoving him back into the pack.
I caught the eye of a couple folks sitting across the street from us who, I think, may have been Other Siders. They kept giggling and shaking their head. One of them mouthed "Brownie?" to which I nodded and then they nodded apologetically and then we couldn't nod anymore because we were cut off by a contingent of neighborhood kids who had decorated their bikes.
Dad leaned over to Mindy and Austin. "Pretty soon, that's gonna be you with a wee one in a parade."
Mindy and Austin gazed at each other with soft, secret looks and Mindy rested her head on her husband's shoulder.
But that was when the last light from the sunset disappeared and the music changed. There was an odd piccolo that sounded high and loud over the din of the drums and the marching feet. It caused all of us to turn our heads to see what it was.
It was a man dressed in a Revolutionary War costume. Totally normal for an Independence Day parade. He had knee breeches and stockings and a vest. He had a bit of cloth wrapped around his head and I realized that, paired up with the flag bearer from the local school, he kind of looked like the piper from that famous Spirit of '76 painting. But there was a... thing... about him. That little extra glow that made me know he was no Earth-sider.
"Oh fuck."
"What is it, Maggie?" asked Killian.
"The Piper has come out to play."
Dad's head snapped so fast as he heard me, I could practically hear the crack of the sound barrier. He leaped to his feet and began shouting. "COVER YOUR CHILDREN'S EARS! COVER THEM NOW!"
But because people are idiots, the parents just looked at us as if we were nuts rather than paying attention to the guy trying to save their life.
But it was too late. It was too late the moment we first heard the first notes.
"Shit," I said, standing up and pulling out my weapons.
Killian rose, too, slowly pulling his collapsible rod out of his shirt sleeve. Seriously, I saw the shirt come off earlier. I have NO IDEA where Killian keeps that collapsible staff. But he had it and was ready at my side for whatever danger I was feeling because Killian, unlike the idiots around us, knew to listen when people start shouting at you to beware.
"Oh double shit," I muttered. "You try to take ONE fucking holiday without the world going to hell..."
It wasn't just the kids the Piper was after. As one, all of the parents stood up, grabbing their children by the hand and took their place in the Piper's parade. As they shuffled forward, they mumbled in one voice: "U.S.A.... U.S.A.... U.S.A...."
"Oh that is just fucking creepy as all get out," I said as I tried to decide what you're supposed to do when a zombie-like horde begins marching after some evil version of a Founding Father.
"At least we are aware of who is an Other Sider," remarked Killian.
He pointed to the other side of the street. All the people whose blood was not entirely human? They were fine. In fact, they looked like they were having a grand old time and all they were lacking was some popcorn for the show.
"MAAAAGGIE!" Mindy shouted at me.
I turned. I TOTALLY forgot that my brother-in-law was a normal run-of-the-mill human. Mindy had taken it upon herself to try and cover his ears, but he was wriggling and writhing. Before I could get there, he had wiggled free and took off at a sprint to join the Piper.
Pipistrelle yelled from the backpack. "SAVE ME! SAVE ME, MIGHTY MAGGIE! SAVE ME!"
Nobody fucks with my brownie. Also, the father of my soon-to-be niece or nephew. But mostly my brownie. I launched after them but pulled up as Mindy's voice commanded me into a screeching halt.
"STOP!" Mindy shouted at me just as I was ready to tackle Austin. "DON'T HURT MY HUSBAND!"
I pointed at Austin's retreating back and poor little Pipistrelle waving at us. "You want me to let them get away?"
"I want you to go stop whatever the eff is causing this to happen and bring my husband home in one piece. THAT'S what I want you to do," said Mindy, raising herself off the sidewalk. "If you stake my husband, I swear to god, Maggie—"
I looked down, realizing that in my rush to get Austin, I had completely forgotten I was armed. "I only stake vampires!" I insisted. "And other things that need to get staked!" I felt the entire remaining Other Side crowd take a step back as they eavesdropped on our shouting match. I pushed aside a zombified human couple who had stepped up to take their place in the grim parade. "Only the bad guys. The ones that deserve staking. Not nice monsters. You know. Like you all!"
The Other Siders weren't buying my line.
Meanwhile, Mom decided now was a great moment to let me know whose side she was taking. "Mindy's right. Don't go damaging a man she is going to need raise this baby of hers."
"I wasn't going to stake Austin! I mean, come on! Who do you think I am??"
But Mindy had already moved on to Plan B. She yelled after Pipistrelle. "Take care of my husband, Pipistrelle! He is in danger! You are the only one who can save him! Cover his ears, Pipistrelle! Cover his ears! Help is on its way!"
Pipistrelle, now suddenly having a job to do, ceased to be a victim. By the light of the street lamps, which were all now on and making me really wish I could go home, I saw him crawl out of the backpack and reach over Austin's shoulder to grab his cell phone out of his pocket.
My cell phone began ringing and I answered it.
"Mighty Maggie," the little brownie squeaked in a conspiring tone. "I am in place and the target is on the move. Check check. 1-2-3-4. 10-4 good buddy. Over and out. This line is secure. It will not self-destruct. Call me!" And then he hung up.
In the distance, I saw him tuck the phone down the front of his sailor suit and his little hands went over Austin's ears. Austin slowed down. Not entirely. Pipistrelle's hands were pretty little and it looked like they just weren't big enough to block out everything. But at least Austin wasn't charging to the front of the line.
I pointed at them, whining at my family to let me go get them. "He is disappearing into the crowd. At some point, the Piper is going to World Walk them into an alternate dimension."
"World Walk?" Killian asked.
I calmed myself down enough to explain. "The Piper is a Walker. An old one. But he's also a male siren. You know, like that Mortimer guy we met on the Empress Adelaide who could open portals with his pipe organ. Except this guy uses his flute to cause people to follow him to their doom."
"Is it always doom?" Killian asked. "Perhaps this time it is merely to gather the crowd to watch the fireworks...?"
"Someone pissed him off," I said, noting the stragglers still wandering past. "That's the only time the Piper bothers with people. In the old stories, there's usually a rat infestation and he leads the rats out of town. But when the townspeople don't pay him, he takes their children. It's happened a couple of times, so if history is a good indicator, someone here owes him something big and he's decided to take every human he can find as payment."
"Who else would want humans, Maggie?" my dad mused as he watched another surge build up and then go by.
"Vampires," we both said at once.
"It's always vampires," I moaned.
"Vaclav's been trying to get a permanent portal between Earth and the Other Side for awhile," Dad guessed.
"Or maybe Vaclav just got snacky and thought the Piper could deliver some meals on wheels," Father Killarney slurred.
"Someone didn't pay up so the Piper took his meal ticket?" I hazarded. I looked at the retreating crowd. The mass of bodies had slowed to a trickle. "I wonder what we have to give the guy in order to get him to set our people free."
"Shall we find out?" asked Killian.
"Sure...?" I replied, turning to my partner. "Any suggestions on how we should do that?"
"We could follow him. If he does something untoward, we shall be there to stop him. And perhaps, when he draws to a stop, we can ask him what payment he requires."
Dad shrugged and looked at me. I shrugged and looked at him. Father Killarney was just shrugging at everything. Seemed as good an idea as any. We sure as hell weren't going to come to any answer standing around talking about it.
"Mom! Take Mindy and Father Killarney and start loading up the car," I directed as we started jogging down the street. "I have a feeling we're going to need to make a quick getaway!"
"Oh, I would hate to lose my good Tupperware," she clucked as she hustled them off. She caught my eye once more, though, and I could see she didn't give a shit about the Tupperware. She knew as well as I knew that a lady with a baby was like a two-scoop sundae for a pack of vampires and it was going to take all of her and Father Killarney's mojo to keep things from taking a nasty turn if our suspicions were right.
As we jogged, I felt the ground shift beneath my feet, like when someone heavy is walking in the hallway outside your door. I looked over and realized the giants were trying to catch up with us. I reached out and grabbed Dad and Killian's arms, slowing them into a stop. The giants stopped, too. They seemed about as keen to be standing there as I felt having them around.
"I really don't have time to be ground into flour and turned into bread," I informed them. "If you could wait until after we save the world, that would be awesome."
A growl rose in both the giants' throats, but they didn’t lash out. The dad spoke low, like he really wanted to bellow but knew he needed to keep his shit together. "The Piper took our daughter."
"Wait, what?" I asked. "But you're Other Siders."
"We're half-giants. She was hit with the double recessive. She's human."
"Ah," I said, turning to Dad and Killian. "The Mendelian Punnett square strikes again."
"We have no desire to work with a... World Walker... and an... elf..." said the giant's wife. She said it like she was reading some nasty ingredients off the back of a health food box. "But you are the only ones who seem willing to do something."
"Follow us," said Dad, returning to his jog. "My name's William. And you?"
"Blastaf," said the dude.
"Gronick," said the woman.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You've met my daughter Maggie and her partner Killian. And right now we're trying to save my son-in-law, Austin."
"The man carrying the brownie like a human baby?"
"That's the one."
"Shameful."
"The brownie likes it," I informed them, a little offended that they were offended by our brownie's idea of a good time.
They exchanged dirty glances between the two of them that spoke volumes. What is it that they say about the enemy of my enemy is my frenemy? I think that's what was going on here, because they were definitely not our people. Unfortunately, we were the only port they had in this storm, and we really needed the back up if things were about to go down the way I thought they were about to go down.
Blastaf and Gronick waved at a couple more groups of Other Siders to urge them to join up with our ragtag army. There was a family that was a sort of land-based sea creature, there were a couple shifters who were having trouble holding onto their human skin in all the excitement, your run-of-the-mill fairies (they do surprisingly well in the film industry), and a dude I'm pretty sure was a yeti, except he had gotten some fantastic laser hair removal. They're always running Groupons for those sorts of things in LA. Only thing that gave him away was that his full-coverage foundation had flaked away and was showing the blue skin beneath. That and he was almost as big as our giants.
The Piper had played the people to a far corner of the park which, unfortunately, was kind of close to where we had set up our picnic area.
"Great," I muttered. "We could have roasted some marshmallows and let the apocalypse come to us instead of taking the long way round."
"Hush, Maggie," whispered Dad. "Do you see your mom and sister?"
I looked back. They weren't loading up the car. Instead, they had tipped over some picnic tables and it looked like Father Killarney was creating some sort of threshold around their fort with a bottle of Dasani and some loud prayers.
"What the hell are they doing?" I muttered.
"Making sure we have a fortress to retreat to if we need it," said Dad.
"Well, that was very nice of them," commented Killian.
"It's why I married that woman," Dad informed him.
There was a large, concrete pedestal on the corner where the Piper had gathered his disciples. In one leap, without missing a single note on his flute, he jumped on top of it and anointed himself the hero of the picnic. The zoned-out humans swayed on their feet like they were at some sort of an evangelical tent revival.
"Do you see your daughter?" I whispered to Blastaf and Gronick.
Blastaf nodded and pointed. "There she is."
Now, she might have been human, but their daughter most definitely got her genetics from two giants. She was probably double the size of any of the other kids her age in all directions. She was either going to grow up to be a basketball player or a linebacker, and I'm sure was going to kick ass with whichever one she chose.
"Do you see your brother-in-law?" Gronick asked me.
I pointed at the guy with the backpack hanging back from the crowd. Pipistrelle was still desperately trying to plug up his ears, but Austin was still swaying with the crowd.
"There he is," I said, pointing. "The one hanging safely in the back."
Dad shushed me. "Something is wrong," he said. The tune had shifted. The notes were like the song was stuck on a question but couldn't get an answer.
"What is he doing?" I asked. "Can you see what's happening, Killian?"
Being a wood elf, his kind developed eagle eyes for surviving in the forest and they can see stuff the rest of us can't.
"It appears he is staring into thin air intently and repeating that same musical phrase over and over."
"Oh crap," said my dad.
"What is it?" Gronick asked, her craggy face lined with worry.
"He can't open a portal," said Dad. "Veil is too thick here. Probably thought he could just rip something open and be done with it. Go figure some jerk comes along to ruin our 4th of July and we got ourselves gawddamned amateur hour."
"Aw, shit," I said.
"What is it?" asked Killian. He then turned to the giants to reassure them. "These are the phrases she says when she has an epiphany. Do not be distressed by the colorful vernacular."
The giants looked like the only vernacular that was distressing them was the SAT-level verbal diarrhea spewing out of the elf's mouth. Teaming up with your mortal enemy is a tough pill to swallow, especially when the guy you hate is making you feel like a dunce.
That's when I became aware of shadows that were shifting around us as a whole new problem decided to rain down upon our parade.
"Oh, for the sake of Pete. Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME??" I asked.
We didn't just have zombifying hypnotic humans to deal with, the vampires had decided now was a great time to come out to raid the kitchen. The good news was that we were surrounded by Other Siders who knew a thing or two about beating back some vampires. The bad news was vampires.
I spun around Killian so that we were standing back to back. The vampires were creeping out from behind the trees and out of the shadows of the rocks. I have no idea how they got here. There were way too many of them for it to just be a bunch of delinquents hanging out looking for a free meal. One of the young, dumb vampires made a swipe at us just to see if we were easy pickings or if dinner was not going to agree with him.
I gave him a little fight back, but didn't press too hard. The air practically crackled with tension. Everyone had an itchy trigger finger. I knew the moment I staked one of them, all bets were off and we could probably kiss all these nice people we were trying to save goodbye, including my brother-in-law, and Mindy would be super pissed if I got him killed.
But the vampire actually backed away more quickly than I expected, which made me think he was looking for something he could eat on the run. All the vampires were pretty focused on the Piper, who continued to play his flute.
"Just ask him, Maggie," Killian said, nudging my arm.
"YOU ask him," I replied, nudging him back.
"Nobody likes an elf," Blastaf retorted. "Ask the Piper what he wants and let's get our loved ones back safe."
The giant had a point. I stood up, feeling my Dad's eyes upon me. He would've traded places with me in a hot minute, but if things went to shit, he was the only one strong enough to rip open a portal in a veil this size, and trying to rip open a portal when a vampire is hanging off your collar bone is a bitch.
"Hey, Piper!" I shouted, keeping my hand on my silver stake and my eyes on the surrounding enemy. "Whatdya say you call off your vampires and I'll cross you wherever you need to go with no muss, no fuss?"
The Piper's lips left his flute, but his fingers continued to work the holes and the tune continued to play. I made note that we were dealing with an enchanted flute and that getting a break in the conversation was not going to be enough to break the spell.
"I spy with my little eyes a World Walker who thinks she can trick me out of my pay."
"No tricks! I swear to all that is holy, I will take you across myself if you stop."
"Take you across myself? In cuffs, do you mean, World Walker? I'm afraid that I am quite fond of my freedom."
"While I would be more than happy to haul you in for whatever justice the Other Side felt banishment to Earth was an appropriate punishment for, no tricks here. I'll take you over. Just let these people go."
"But my vampire friends will be so sad if I do not give them their promised picnic. Vampires get so testy when their bellies are empty." The piper leaned forward. "You must pay the piper."
"Name your price. More than happy to if it means folks get to go home safe and sound. What payment is it that you're looking for exactly?"
" Why... I just want to play."
Sometimes, you get bad guys that are pretty clear cut with their objectives. And then sometimes you get ones that are batshit crazy.
The Piper changed his tune and suddenly all eyes were off him and staring at their neighbors. Anger filled their faces. Rage and fear and fight seemed to well up in their souls.
"The Redcoats are coming!" the Piper shouted.
And suddenly, it was human against human. I mean, even the Perfect Family was sitting there pulling each other's hair. Okay, so maybe I didn't mind that particular sight so much.
"This is not play! Let them go!" I shouted at the Piper. "I'll give you whatever you want!"
"ATTACK!" he sang as he pointed his finger at me.
And that's when the people stopped fighting each other and, instead, started attacking every Other Sider they could lay their hands on. Good, bad, or indifferent, they didn't care. They didn't discriminate between vampire and fairy. And yes, the vampires had their teeth and claws, but Angelinos love the CrossFit and the kickboxing and the humans were wailing hard on anyone dumb enough to put their face in the radius of their fists.
"RETREAT!" I motioned, calling all of our cohorts over to the fortress Mom and Mindy and Father Killarney had so graciously assembled for us.
We dove behind the picnic benches as the first shot was fired.
Mindy, Mom, and Father Killarney reached out to give everyone a hand inside. The vampires, at least, were kept at bay with Father Killarney's makeshift holy water barrier and there were enough of them out there to keep the humans distracted.
"Good to see you all so soon and in one piece," Mom greeted. "I had a feeling you might need a place to regroup."
That's one of the nice things about having a mother as a psychic. "Your vision was 100% spot on as always," I remarked.
"Did I just hear a compliment from my own daughter?" she replied with a pleased smile. "Will wonders never cease! It's probably because you're in a better mood, not weighed down with all of that heavy weaponry you're always hauling around. It ruins the line of your clothes, by the way."
Not having my weaponry was the one thing that was definitely not adding to my positive mood.
"What do we do, Maggie?" Killian asked, his breath heaving in his chest.
"Yes, what do we do, World Walker," said Blastaf, accusation coloring his voice as if it was somehow my fault that we were up against a madman.
"We'll figure it out," I replied, but then realized that wasn't a good enough answer for all the Other Siders who had thrown in with us. "Gather up whatever weapons you can find!" I announced to them, picking up some hot dog forks and spatulas from the ground.
One of the amphibian people flexed his paw and claws dripping with poison popped out of his skin.
"How the hell did you get a permit?" I asked him, aghast. He shrugged and I shouted at him so the rest of the class could hear. "We can't hurt the people! Anyone who hurts a human is going to get themselves a one way ticket to the Other Side. Incapacitate—"
"Decapitate?" whispered one shifter to another in confusion.
"INCAPACITATE! Don't hurt!" I clarified for those in the back.
The humans seemed to have gotten through the first wave of vampires.
"How the heck are we going to get through this without hurting anyone?" Dad asked as the people started to circle around us, still chanting U.S.A... U.S.A.... It felt like Night of the Living Dead except with less protective walls.
"I have no idea," I replied. "All I know is that everybody we're up against is a human with family members who will start looking for answers if anyone ends up dead, and if anyone ends up dead, we're all dead."
"Why don't you try telling that to the vampires?" Dad grumbled.
I looked out over the picnic tables again. The vampires were still getting the beat down from the humans, and the humans were actually doing a pretty incredible job of staking them, too. It then dawned on me it was part of the Piper's control. If he wanted them to stake a vampire, his people would stake a vampire whether they wanted to or not. As much as I appreciated the help thinning out the undead herd, it was just not right. Although the little girl with the perfect pigtails was getting waaaaay into it. I made note that we should probably pay attention to her and talk about recruitment when she got a little older.
The rhythm of the footsteps had been joined with a drum from one of the high school kids. I peeked up over the edge of another table. His uniform was glowing in the dark like a ghost. I pushed down my irrational, kneejerk phobia about ghosts and reminded myself my job was to make sure he didn't turn into one, even if he tried really, really hard to get us to kill him. His drum kept the crowd in pace like the days of yore and that fucking damned piccolo continued its call.
A hot dog lobbed its way into our shelter. The first shot was fired. I guess we were lucky that SoCal isn't a hotbed of carry-and-conceal. It could have been a lot worse than a food fight. Well, that is until a flaming marshmallow landed on the giant's skin. Now, lucky for us, giant's skin is thick and tough, but flaming marshmallows were going to be an issue. All we needed right now was the grass to catch and find ourselves in a California brushfire.
"Smokey the Bear says that today's fire risk is HIGH!" I shouted at the people. "What is your issue???"
But no one paid any attention to me. Our ragtag group of merry men were too busy trying to put out too many fires. Literally. The flaming marshmallows were now replaced with flaming ears of corn and they kept coming.
I looked around the picnic area for something to help us.
"Didn't you bring your gun or something, Maggie?" Father Killarney slurred. "You're always trying to shoot something. This seems like as good an occasion as any."
"I was coming to a flippin' family picnic," I chided him. "Not planning on getting stuck in a war with two sides who are both convinced they are the Americans fighting the forces of crazy King George."
"Everyone thinks they're the good guy," Father Killarney sagely noted, his head bobbling with the thought.
My eyes fell upon a large plastic garbage can in one of the other sites.
"WATER BALLONS! WE HAVE WATER BALLOONS!" I shouted as I pointed.
The din of war was so loud, none of the patriotic drones heard my plan. But the Other Siders caught it. Blastaf the Giant crouched down next to me and rubbed his chin with his thick hand. "Water balloons?"
"We need to get that garbage can full of balloons. We can use it to put out the fires and we can bless the remainders to use against the vampires."
"You have a priest?"
I jerked my thumb at Father Killarney's increasingly sleepy form. Every now and again, he'd spill out his beer to put out a flame that had landed close to him. "We'll see what the old guy has in him."
The giant and his wife gave each other a nod and then made a dash for the barrel. They pulled enough fire from the bewitched humans that I was able to make a phone call. It rang a couple times and then I heard Pipistrelle pick up.
"MIGHTY MAGGIE!"
"I'm on my way, Pipistrelle. Tell me. Where are you?"
His voice was coming out bouncy, like Austin was either running or giving Pipistrelle a horsey ride on his knee. "We are headed towards the central statue in the middle of the park."
"On my way." I closed the phone and turned to Killian and Father Killarney. "We gotta get to the central statue in the middle of the park. Whatever is going down next, it is going to go down there."
By this time, the giant couple had returned with the bucket. They were both sporting some nasty bruises from where they had been pelted with objects. Blastaf pulled a meat fork out of his leg like it was nothing more than a splinter. Badass.
Mom and Dad heaved Father Killarney into a standing position. He muttered something over the bucket and made the sign of the cross. Killian grabbed some empty shopping bags and started loading them up with water balloons and handing them out to our regiment. Thank the gods that California had outlawed plastic bags not too long ago. The shopping bags were nice and thick with strong handles and were able to hold a ton of our stash.
I turned to Mindy. "Why don't you go to the car and we'll come get you as soon as we free your husband?"
"Are you fucking kidding me, Maggie? There's no threshold to a car. Those vampires will roll back the metal of my roof like the top to a sardine can." She pointed at her belly. "I'm not having my kid come out undead. And I'm not getting turned into a vampire and face an eternity pregnant."
"To be fair, they would most likely eat you as dinner. They probably wouldn't turn you," Killian remarked.
"SHUT UP, KILLIAN!" Mindy and I said in unison.
"You two really are twins," he said. "Remarkable the emotional resemblance."
"Okay," I announced, trying to act like I had a Plan B. Or C. Or whatever plan we were now on. I had lost count. "We have water balloons and hot dog sticks and the things they keep throwing at us...." That's when my eye fell upon Pipistrelle's contribution to our festivities. "And a metric crapton of explosive things." I smiled as I looked over at Killian. "Do you know what happens to a vampire when you light him up with a bottle rocket?"
"I do not."
"Neither do I. Let's find out."
I began loading up all the fireworks Pipistrelle had armed us with. I made note that I needed to thank that guy for thinking ahead the next time I saw him.
"Okay," I said to the crew as a chair came hurtling across our makeshift battlement. "We've got these people who think they’re fighting off the bad guys. And yes, technically, some of the guys are vampires and actually are bad guys—"
"Maggie, on track," said Dad.
"Right. So, they are acting this way because they keep hearing that stupid Piper's song. Like the sailors up against the sirens, we need to stuff their ears, and I think THIS is going to do just fine." I held up the bag of Jet-Puffed marshmallows. "Fill your pockets. Now go fill those ears!"
A cheer went up from the Other Siders as they grabbed handfuls of our white, spongy weapon and leaped over the tables and into the fray.
I turned to Dad. "While we see how fire resistant these vampires are, take the rest of the fireworks and aim them all at the Piper. Maybe a little show will distract him enough to get him to stop playing."
Dad turned to my Mom. "You in, honey?"
She hiked up her muumuu so she wouldn't trip as she ran. "As ever."
"I'll just be staying here with your sister," said Father Killarney, patting the ground beside him.
Mindy rolled her eyes, knowing Father Killarney was more interested in staying close to the cooler. "We'll keep you armed with holy water balloons. We'll fill them up with beer if we run out. The alcohol should make them easier to light on fire."
"Now, don't you go touching my beer!" said Father Killarney, shielding his bottle away grumpily in case she broke out into grabby hands. "It is helping me to do the Lord's work."
"We'll fill them up with Father Killarney's piss if he insists on not slowing down," Mindy retorted.
"That'd stop me in my tracks," I replied.
"Me, too."
She held up her hand for a high-five, and with the cracking sound of our hand slap, my side launched their attack. Like rockets, sans the red glare, the water balloons started bursting in air. They smacked against the vampires and the fight was on. Steam boiled from their skin as the holy water hit them. I hit a couple point blank with the fireballs of a Roman candle and their dry, undead corpses went up in flames like a homecoming bonfire. But I wasn't fast enough to stop them from taking out Mr. Perfect from the Perfect Picnicking Family Next Door. I was able to stake the bastard before he completely drained the life force away, but the guy was definitely looking a bit anemic. I let him slide down onto the ground as I stuffed marshmallows in his ears.
Unfortunately, there was some blood that escaped from the guy's throat and dropped onto the ground and I saw the border shimmer in time to the Piper's music.
The Piper saw it, too, and I think figured out for the first time that enough life force spilled on the ground can cause a weakening in the veil. "What was that shimmering?" he said with delight. "That lovely golden crackle that came in the air? Let's do it again! The Redcoats are coming!" shouted the Piper, and the tune began to change on his piccolo.
All us Other Siders stood stock still as we waited to see what the Piper was throwing at us next. Turns out, he wanted everyone to turn on anyone wearing a red shirt. Gene Rodenberry references aside, there were fashion victims going down all around us. I looked across the lawn and cursed. My brother-in-law, Austin, was wearing a red polo and now was fending off a horde in a far corner. Pipistrelle had abandoned his post guarding Austin's ears and, instead, had grabbed a tree branch, turned around in the backpack, and was beating the mob away from his rear gunner seat.
But us Other Siders were giving a fair fight, lighting up the vampires we could and stuffing the marshmallows into whatever ear canals we could find. The snacks weren't enough to completely block things out, but they made people pause. And in that pause, it meant that folks could get away.
The Piper was not happy with this act of rebellion. "I want the ground to run red!" So, he looked for the largest person he could find, and his eyes fell upon the giants' child.
And since his eyes were on the kid, the vampires figured that whatever the Piper wanted most was what they wanted most, so they went straight for her.
"NO!" I shouted as I ran towards them.
Killian was hot on my heels. He grabbed the kid while I grabbed the vampire and between the two of us, managed to get the vampire's head turned the other way before he could do anymore damage. The vampire fell to the ground and the giant's parents were there just seconds after the bad guy was dead. The look of gratitude on their faces as they shoved the marshmallows into their kid's ears was immense. I knew that even if we all went down in a blaze of glory, I had myself some former enemies that were now allies.
But there were still people to save and no time to sit around basking in our newfound bond. I pushed their daughter into their arms. "I gotta get my brother-in-law." I turned to Killian. "We gotta figure out a distraction. We're not making any ground."
I was interrupted by the Piper. He was sitting on the horse statue in the middle of the park, pressed behind the concrete hero that no one ever paid attention to. The Piper raised his pipe, the music still coming as his fingers continued to work. "Let us put the red in the old red, white, and blue, shall we?" the Piper cackled. "Let the ground be colored scarlet in our merry dance for freedom!"
"U.S.A.... U.S.A...." the humans droned as the horde turned to face us.
Those words the Piper said, though, made something click in my brain. I stuck out my arm and stopped Killian like a mom with a kid in the front seat during a brake check.
"What, Maggie?" he asked, alert and searching for the new danger.
"Dance with me," I said, gripping the blue silk lapels of his tunic.
"Are you under the spell?" he asked. "Shall I stuff marshmallows in your ears?"
"Do it!"
Killian grabbed my hand and twirled me across the lawn. It caught the Piper's eye. Killian dipped me, and then we began a side-by-side rumba, traveling across the grass towards the Piper's perch.
The Piper started to laugh. "I KNEW you Other Siders were not immune! You just hear a different tune! Now I shall play for you and ALL of you SHALL DANCE!"
"Make it stop!" I shouted at him, hoping that those around me would catch the fake-out.
The Piper shouted louder. "Dance! DANCE! Dance until your feet fall off!"
The giants caught my eye and the look on their face was like I had lost my gawddamned mind. I tried to will them with my brain to play along. And I gotta say, they might be lumbering, but they weren't lumbering idiots. They began doing a really slow, soft shoe shuffle and began to follow us.
Listen, sometimes you gotta fight crazy with crazy.
And that was my plan. The Piper was never going to let us get near him with a full frontal assault. He was going to keep throwing people at us until we were forced to kill someone, even if it was out of self defense.
But no one expects a dance battle.
The other Other Siders saw what I was doing and gave me a cross-eyed look. I mouthed, "Do it!" to every single one of them I could without the Piper seeing.
We inched forward. The Other Siders managed to get in a few sucker punches against the vampires and rebelling humans, but the Piper was more interested in playing and tapping his foot to his tune. He shouted out loud, "Everyone should dance! Let us make this a party!"
So, the humans, having no choice, joined up in a conga-line. For all the Piper had already done, I think this particular move earned him an extra special place in hell. The only good thing about it was that though we were now locked into some sort of Bollywood musical finale, nobody was trying to kill anyone. I mean, aside from the vampires. But that's just vampires.
But while the Piper took in the floor show, he missed my dad and mom as they flanked the field and circled around back. Mom began shoving the fireworks into the ground. I hoped her precognition had figured out where to aim things when the right moment came.
Meanwhile, Dad snuck up on Austin and tackled him behind the knees. They wrestled for a bit before he could shove the marshmallows in Austin's ears, freeing him from the spell enough to give Pipistrelle some room to stretch. Dad lifted the little brownie out of the backpack and I saw them dart into the shadows together.
One down.
A vampire on fire streaked before us and kept running. Mindy stood up in the shelter and struck him square in the chest with a holy water balloon.
"Hooray!" shouted Father Killarney, only his hand appearing as he held up his beverage in a toast to the toasted vampire.
One more to go.
In our ever growing, gigantic, morbid flash mob, Killian and I had made our way into the Piper's personal space. The guy hopped down from his concrete ride, his fingers continuously playing even though he lifted his lips away from the flute to give us a pleased grin.
And that's when Mom and Dad came in. With the high pitched sound of rockets, all the fireworks went off, aimed at the Piper. He spun in surprise and lifted his elbow to block the explosive flames flying towards him. The air was filled with the smell of sulfur and smoke. His hair was on fire and his blue button jacket was on fire, and he dropped to the ground to try and roll it out.
This was precisely the moment I was looking for. I jumped right on top of him and started pummeling his face. He tried to beat me off with his flute, but getting caned with a musical instrument was pretty low on the Things I've Been Beaten With scale.
But that's when I suddenly realized he was more interested in keeping me away from his head bandage than he was interested in getting me off. It's like that old trick with pickpockets. They'll bump into you to see what your hand instinctively goes to protect and that's where they focus their attention.
I went straight for the bandage the Piper had wrapped around his head and ripped it away. The whole time, I thought he was the ancient Piper, his outfit an homage to the painting of the piper marching alongside George Washington and a drummer in lockstep. If the actual Piper hadn't served as an actual model in that painting, I had assumed there was some sort of otherworldly connection through time. Because, face it. I'd seen weirder things.
But as soon as I got the bandage off, I realized this guy was no Piper. He was just some piper. This was just some Other Side homicidal loon who had found the ACTUAL Piper's magic flute and had been trying to stir up some trouble. He had wrapped up his ears so he wouldn't fall prey to his own tune.
"You fucking fucker!" I pronounced. "You were going to kill all these people just so that people thought you were someone who knew what the fuck he was doing?!"
I ripped away the flute and blew air up the exhaust end. The music stopped. The sound of the war going on in the field began to fade as people started to come out of their thrall.
I waved the magical object at him as he cringed, his face screwed up in pathetic impotence. "THIS is not a toy! THIS is not okay! You don't turn people into mindless drones and make them fight each other so you can look good for a bunch of bloodsucking vampires!" I whacked him a couple times with it for good measure and got up. I turned to walk away. "I mean, what a fucking wiener. AND I DON'T MEAN THE HOT DOG KIND—"
I didn't get through the rest of my cuss, because Killian suddenly shouted, "Maggie! Get down!"
I turned. The pretend piper had scrambled to his feet and replaced his magical flute with a not at all magical gun and he had it pointed directly at me. What a day to leave the house without an ounce of body armor aside from my Kevlar neckguard, I thought slowly as I saw his finger pull back on the trigger. The next thing I knew, it felt like a freight train had slammed into me.
But then I realized it wasn't a bullet.
I was fine.
But a giant had knocked me out of the way.
"YOU SHALL NOT HURT THE MIGHTY MAGGIE MACKAY!" shouted a familiar squeaky voice.
And at that moment, I knew that piper was fucked.
Brownies? Brownies are endlessly patient and cheerful. But there are limits. And you piss a brownie off? It is like trying to take down a rabid terrier.
Pipistrelle was everywhere at once. He had something dark in his arms, but it didn't slow him down. He was crawling all over the Piper, biting his ears and yanking his hair and trying to gouge out his eyes. Imagine a wildcat going batshit crazy and you had yourself an inkling of what happens when you piss off a brownie.
The wind was still knocked out of me, so I wasn't feeling much like getting up to help, but Pipistrelle seemed to have things perfectly under control. I mean, even Dad and Killian stood back and folded their arms to see what happened next.
The Piper was screaming like a 13-year-old boy with his nut sack caught in a locker door. Faster than I could follow, Pipistrelle had tied something to the guy's neck and then swung around the guy's body like some sort of manic Cirque du Soleil act until the piper was bound in a long, black cord.
It was when Pipistrelle got out the lighter that I realized what exactly our brownie friend had been carrying in his arms and what he had done.
"Maybe you shouldn't set him on fire—" I half-heartedly protested out of force of habit. But then figured, hellz, the bastard had been moments away from popping the life out of me like a kindergartener with a roll of bubble wrap. Let the brownie have his fun.
Pipistrelle put the flame to the fuse and that piper went up like rocket. Because he had been strapped to a rocket. The professional grade mortar shell Pipistrelle brought? Looks like Pipistrelle had modified it just for our bad guy, because, gotta say, fireworks aren't supposed to work the way it worked. Missiles work like how that brownie's mortar worked. I really hoped that Pipistrelle hadn't actually bought a missile for our 4th of July celebration. He might have. Brownies can get so literal when you talk about "rocket's red glare." One way or another, the piper went sailing up into the air and disappeared into oblivion as the shell exploded into a shower of reds and blues and whites.
Don't fuck with brownies.
"Did you add that little bit of magic to get liftoff?" I asked Pipistrelle, beaming with pride at our guy.
"I wanted it to be the best 4th of July fireworks show ever!" he replied. "Happy Independence Day!" And with no further ado, he proceeded to set the rest of the fireworks off, skipping and cart wheeling as he hummed all of Souza's most popular tunes.
Around me, the people escaped from their stupor and stared overhead, murmuring, "Oooooo.... Aaaaaah...."
"Well, that is awfully pretty," Killian remarked, dropping on the ground beside me.
The giant family had reunited, but came back over to us. The father stuck out his hand first to Killian and then to me. His fingers engulfed my own like I was a dainty little princess, which, I gotta say, is the first time anyone had ever made me feel like that.
"Thanks for your help," he said. "This would have gotten ugly without you."
"Anytime," I replied.
"Stake a couple vampires for me, okay?" he said, walking away. "Oh! And if you ever need any help, know that me and my family are always here for you. And for the elf, too."
I looked over at Killian and smiled. Sometimes friendships form in the strangest of circumstances. And then I winced, because man, I hurt like hell.
A squeal jerked both Killian and me from our revelry. Mindy came skipping over and planted a great big kiss on Austin, dropping the two water balloons she was holding as she melted into him. They laughed as she helped him pick the marshmallows out of his ears.
Killian leaned over and whispered. "Is that a thing like with the tradition with the mistletoe or the New Year's fireworks? Kissing with water balloons?"
He puckered up and leaned in.
"No. No, it is not," I replied, laughing and shoving his face away.
He smiled and leaned back, staring up at the sky as Pipistrelle's surprise box of explosions went off. "Good. I would hate to miss this show."
Mom and Dad stood arms wrapped around each other's waist as the city began its own official fireworks presentation. The Other Siders were picking their way back to their cars and reassuring the humans no harm, no foul. Pipistrelle was everyone's hero. The smoldering vampire corpses dotted the field like campfires. And Father Killarney was passed out somewhere.
Just another MacKay family holiday.
* * * *
Check out more Maggie books at http://www.katedanley.com/maggie.html
Want to know the moment a new Maggie book comes out? Subscribe to the Kate Danley Newsletter for information on upcoming releases and sales!