Everybody Wants to Rune the World

Chapter One

Virginia Peugeot parked her car out in front of Hells Gate Inn, a bed-and-breakfast that was as haunted as it looked. It was also run mostly by demons and owned by the devil himself. Not that any of that would keep her from going up to the front door. No. She'd been born and raised in Hedgewitch Cove, Louisiana, so demons didn't scare her. Neither did the devil.

He was actually a pretty nice guy, all considering.

The devil lived part of the year in Hedgewitch Cove, and had since long before Virginia's birth. He wasn't at all what one might think him to be— horned, red, and with a tail. Though one Halloween, he had worn a red devil costume and sat on his porch, passing out candy to local children. That had been something to see.

He was actually incredibly good-looking.

And apparently, he was in need of something from Virginia, her mother, grandmother, and younger sister. That was odd. Lucifer (Luc) Dark was normally the one helping others with their problems. She couldn't recall a time in her life when she'd been called on to help him with anything. In fact, she wasn't aware the man had ever needed help before. He was somewhat of a mystery to most.

She had been on her way back to town from New Orleans when she'd gotten the call from her little sister, Mississippi (Missi), saying that their mother and grandmother needed their help and to meet them at Hells Gate. That had been nearly fifteen minutes ago.

She hoped that whatever had prompted the request wasn't time sensitive. As it was, she'd broken a few laws on the way into town in regard to how fast she was driving, and she didn't want her father or cousins to find out. Her father, Walden Peugeot, was the parish sheriff, and six of her male cousins were deputy sheriffs who served under him.

One of her cousins was totally by the book. He hadn't ever met a rule he didn't like. And another had yet to come across a rule he hadn't broken. The others were shades in between. All of them would have hassled her to some degree about her speed. The wild one would have demanded she drag race him or something.

"The end is near!" said a man walking down the sidewalk. He was wearing a dark rainslicker and matching surrey hat. Despite the fact that the day was clear, not a raindrop in sight. None of that mattered to Arnold. He could make the cheeriest of days melancholy. It was something of a gift. One that he prided himself on. He was a drama king, as noted by the sign he was wearing that read "Countdown to the End." He even had a bell and was ringing it as he walked, so that no one would miss him.

Not that he was easy to miss or anything.

He was a regular when it came to shouting about the end of the world. The sign's message changed often. The outfit and the man's general demeanor never did. The bell was a new touch. It was also incredibly obnoxious, so she had little doubt it wouldn't last long. There would inevitably be a town meeting held to discuss said bell. A vote would be taken, ballots would be counted, and the bell would more than likely end up being relinquished or forcibly taken if need be.

Until that happened, it was good to see Arnold getting out of his comfort zone. Of course, he could have picked a better location to flex his newfound bell muscles. Doing so in front of Hells Gate would lead to nothing but issues for the man.

"Arnold, you know if Luc sees you out here, he'll be less than pleased," she said, meaning every word of it. Luc had a short fuse when it came to Arnold and his behavior. "What did he tell you about heralding the end of the world in front of his place?"

Apocalypse Arnold, as he was affectionally known around town, met her gaze, his expression forlorn. "That just because I nearly ended the world more than once in the past, history is not destined to repeat itself. And I am not the harbinger of the end, no matter how much I want to be or how many times I try to be."

The way he said it all made him seem very childlike.

"And?" asked Virginia, putting a hand on her hip, wanting to laugh at the man but holding back. It was difficult.

He let out a long, unenthused breath. "And I'm not allowed to spread omens anywhere near Luc or Hells Gate." The man, who never seemed to be galvanized about much, cast her a somber look. "He's not in town so he won't know, and this is kind of my thing. What I'm known for. People would be disappointed if I stopped. How would they know the end might one day happen? I'm pretty much a superhero in disguise, if you think about it. That's what Ms. Cherry told me. The women from your mother's bridge club agreed. One even suggested I look into tights and a cape."

"Was that someone my mother?" asked Virginia, already knowing her mother well enough to suspect she'd have put the superhero bug in Arnold's ear.

Arnold inclined his head, doing the closest thing to a smile the man had to offer. "It was. She even offered to make the outfit for me."

Virginia shook her head. Her mother got too much pleasure out of stirring the pot. "Well, whatever suits your fancy, but if I were you, I'd hold off on a costume and a superhero name just yet. People might be disappointed if you stopped wearing your sign. You know how much they look forward to reading it."

No one did, but the last thing she wanted was the man running around town shouting about the end of the world dressed as a superhero. "Good thinking. Thanks for looking out for me, Virginia," he said, and then began to ring his bell once more.

She grabbed his hand, silencing the bell in the process. "Arnold, Luc is most certainly in town. I'm waiting for Missi to get here. He needs help with something," said Virginia.

Arnold's eyes widened. "He's home?"

"He is." She tried to hide her amusement. "I really hope he's not looking out of a window right now. If he is, there is a high likelihood he'll be heralding your end. If I were you, I'd hightail it out of here."

Arnold turned and ran as fast as he could in the other direction. His sign flapped and his bell dinged wildly as he went. He nearly collided with the mailman in his haste.

Barnebas Cybulski caught his mailbag and held it tightly to his body as Arnold sped by. The mail carrier was in orange shorts and a red Hawaiian shirt. A blue baseball cap was on his head, announcing his love of the local high school baseball team. He coached little league during baseball season and took the sport very seriously. Almost as seriously as football was taken by everyone else.

It was the south, so football was just shy of being labeled a religion. Twice in her lifetime, the town council had met to hear arguments on actually getting the sport labeled a religion. The vote had fallen short, barely.

There seemed to be a town meeting on just about everything. In fact, they were set to have a town meeting about the number of town meetings next month.

"Virginia," he said, with a tip of his head.

Barnebas, like a fair number of residents in the town, came from a long line of Cajuns. Virginia's father was a proud Cajun and would shout it from the rooftops if her mother would allow it.

"How's ya mama an' them?" he asked.

She smiled. "Momma is good. I'm meeting her any minute. I'll let her know you asked about her. How is your momma doing?"

"Good. She's cookin' some gator this weekend," he said before lifting a hand. "But don't go tellin' your daddy."

Virginia laughed. There was no way she was going to tell her father—who was part were-gator— that Barnebas's mother was serving up alligator for dinner.

Barnebas had on white tube socks and a pair of Pumas, clearly a trendsetter in the what-not-to-wear fashion look of the season. Fall in southern Louisiana was chilly, not as bad as up north, but it wasn't exactly shorts kind of weather. That didn't matter to Barnebas. In the dead of summer, he was known to deliver the mail without a shirt on at all. She'd heard tales of a time when he'd tried delivering the mail in his underwear and nothing else. Thankfully, she'd been away at culinary school when that incident occurred. She wasn't sure she'd have been able to un-see it. The man was attractive, for someone with the fashion sense of Magnum P.I., but that wasn't the point.

There had been a town meeting about his underwear deliveries. He'd been permitted to plead his case. Apparently, he'd done so in underwear, which did not help his case any. The decision was made to let Barnebas wear anything he wanted, except just underwear, while delivering the mail, just so long as he was indeed wearing something.

He glanced back in the direction Arnold was running and ringing. "Who let Arnie have a bell, and why's he runnin'?"

Virginia smiled. "He didn't know Luc was home, and I have no idea where he got the bell. We should be glad Ms. Cherry hid his megaphone."

"Luc's home, and Arnie was doom and gloomin' out in front of Hells Gate again?" asked Barnebas, shaking his head. "The last time Luc found him doin' dat in front of the inn, we had to have an emergency town meetin' to vote on if Luc should be allowed to take Arnie to the pits of hell for a week or not. Sure glad dat vote went the way of no. Arnie did have to work in the mobile familiar groomin' truck for community service though. For the best. I'm not sure Arnie could handle the pit of anythang. He lost at poker the other night and has been downright inconsolable."

Virginia lifted a brow. "Uh, is he ever happy?"

"Not really. He has levels of despair. Losin' at poker took him to a new one. You wouldn't know it lookin' at him but he's very competitive. Dat boy ain't never met a challenge he didn't want to win. You know Luc tellin' him he's not gonna end the world means Arnie is gonna try to prove 'em wrong," added the mail carrier before he eyed Hells Gate warily. Sweat appeared on his forehead, and he looked to be mentally preparing himself to deliver mail there.

She knew why.

The inn was the bane of the mail carrier's existence.

Between the mischievous spirits who haunted the place and Furfur, Luc's pet hellhound, who just happened to look like a boxer dog and had a thing for chasing the mailman, Barnebas couldn't win.

"Bob and Howie still giving you trouble?" asked Virginia, already knowing the answer to her question. She'd laid witness to their shenanigans just last week.

Bob was one of many Earthbound spirits who called Hells Gate Inn home. He died when he was in his late sixties and had always been ornery, from what Virginia had heard. Being dead hadn't slowed the man one bit. He was confined to Hells Gate's property, unable to ever leave, meaning he often got bored. A source of amusement for Bob was to harass Barnebas during his daily mail delivery. The spirit was known to team up with one of the many demons who worked at the inn.

Howie was a favorite choice. The demon, by all outward appearances, looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. He had spiked, bleached-out blond hair that he often changed the tips of by adding dramatic splashes of color. He was tall and rail thin, with a thing for hard metal band T-shirts, black pants, and silver chains. More than once she'd seen him greeting guests at the counter wearing a spiked leather dog collar and black lipstick. For as Goth as Howie seemed, he had a major Achilles' heel.

Happy things terrified him.

He was also fairly easy to manipulate. Which was why Bob recruited him the most to help with pranks.

The pair had put Barnebas through the wringer the week prior. He was clearly still traumatized by the ordeal. Sadly, the mail carrier was not the only victim of Bob's antics.

The ghost liked to get the people from the utility companies as well, whenever they came to read a meter. And the pizza delivery boys. The list was nearly endless.

There was talk of some residents forming a local support group for those who'd had bad run-ins with Bob. Virginia didn't understand all the fuss. Bob was just bored. He wouldn't actually hurt anyone.

The same could not be said of all the inn's residents. Howie was gentle natured but there was a dark past behind him. One that left others whispering, never really divulging all the details.

Virginia didn't care what the demon had done in his past. He'd been there when she'd needed help, and she'd never forget it. As far as she was concerned, Howie was good people.

Putting her hand on Barnebas's shoulder, Virginia gave him a serious look. "Want me to take the mail up when I go in?"

"Ohmygod, yes!" he exclaimed loudly before clearing his throat and doing his best to appear aloof. It didn't quite work. "If you wouldn't mind, since you're goin' dat way an' all."

She bit at her inner cheek to keep from laughing. "Not at all."

He reached into his bag and withdrew several envelopes and a small package. He handed them to her, relief showing on his face. "The mail is for Luc. The package is for Betty. And thank you."

"Don't mention it," she said before holding the package out a bit. "This smells a little off. What is it?"

"I learned not to asked," replied Barnebas. "I'm just thankful it's not live snakes—again."

Virginia stiffened. "Are you sure it's not?"

Barnebas took a small step away from her, eyeing the package. "No. But the snakes didn't smell bad last time. We're probably safe."

She didn't miss the emphasis on the word "probably."

Chapter Two

"LOOK, THERE'S MISSI," Barnebas said, pointing down the road. He then appeared nervous again, which was amusing all unto itself, seeing as Missi was the least scary person Virginia knew, except when it came to the family magic shop that she ran. For the shop, her sister was fierce.

She gave Barnebas a side-eyed stare. "Are you still trying to force the sale of the lot behind the magic shop so the post office can be expanded?"

He bit his lower lip. "If I say yes, will you still take Luc his mail?"

She thought on it. "Yes."

"Yes," he said. "Hedgewitch Cove is expandin' all the time. Our population went up by six this year alone."

"Didn't seven people vanish during the month leading up to the spring solstice celebrations this year?" asked Virginia. "And didn't they find parts of an eighth person?"

Barnebas cringed. "Yes, so I realize we're down by two now, but still, we're well on our way to becomin' a sprawlin' metropolis. How can we make it a reality if we don't expand our post office? I'm pretty sure the information superhighway is a fad. People will go back to wantin' to handwrite letters. I can feel it in my bones. My momma agrees. Says the internet is the work of the devil. Do we know if Luc had a hand in it?"

She merely stared at the man. Hedgewitch Cove was about as far from a sprawling metropolis as one could get. It clung tightly to its small Southern-town charm, feeling like a miniature New Orleans, with its own version of a French Quarter and architecture that was also heavily influenced by the French and Spanish.

And while New Orleans certainly had a lot of supernaturals who lived among the humans, hiding in plain sight, Hedgewitch Cove was different. It was a haven for the supernatural. A place where they were free to be themselves without fear of humans seeing them. Free from humans' fear and hysteria.

The town was so committed to being a safe haven for supernaturals that a spell protected it from humans wandering in inadvertently. The spell had been put in place when the town was formed by the Caillats, which was her line of witches, and three other lines. Powerful magic was used and still protected Hedgewitch Cove to this very day.

The spell kept most humans out. Every now and again one would wander in, but unlike New Orleans, they weren't bursting at the seams with humans. No. The magic protecting the town compelled humans to just keep on going right past, like it wasn't even there. They'd overlook it on a map. And if they happened to wander in, they'd forget all about it once they left.

Exceptions were made, like for delivery people, but those humans were spelled to not see anything out of the ordinary while in town. Normally, the delivery persons had about an hour that they could be in town before they'd take note of the oddities, and there was no shortage of them in Hedgewitch Cove.

Arnold was tame compared to a lot of what went on.

"Barnebas, there is a perfectly good spot out near the woods at the edge of town that wouldn't cause any issues with Missi or anyone else. Town council offered to donate the lot to be used for a post office. Lots of room to have an entirely new one built. That would be nice, wouldn't it?" she asked. "It would be state of the art then. You know, more than you, a rotary phone, and two wooden bins, one for mail coming in and one for it going out?"

His chin jutted out insolently. "The spot it's in now is perfect. Been there for so long the first mode of transport was a horse. It just needs some space to grow."

"Missi might box your ears if she gets too close to you. You know how protective she is of the shop and the lot behind it," said Virginia with a snort.

"Maybe, but then she'd feel bad an' get me a pie from Elixir Coffee & Cakes. I love the ones they make up there. Chocolate chess is my favorite. All homemade tastin' and such. Momma's good with cookin' up gator, but she can't make a pie to save her life." He gave a wide smile before walking off in the direction of the bookstore, and far from Missi.

Virginia turned and spotted Missi on her bicycle, pedaling up the street. The bike, named Shirley by her sister, had a basket in front and served as Missi's only means of transportation.

Missi always looked as if she were headed to Woodstock for a week of fun in the rain and mud— clothing optional. She was something of a flower child, born too late. Today was no exception. She had on a long peasant skirt and a pale yellow, oversized sweater. She was wearing shoes, which was saying something, as she was known to forget to put them on. Sure, they were clogs, but to each her own.

Somehow, she had perfected the art of riding her bike in long skirts and dresses.

They were about as opposite as sisters could come. That worked well for them.

Missi pulled her bike to a stop next to Virginia, got off, and propped it against the iron fence in front of the inn. "Barnebas has been avoiding me. Must mean he's petitioning town council to expand the post office again."

Virginia grinned. "Yep."

"Did he give you the song and dance about it being there since mailmen rode horses?"

"He did," said Virginia with a wide grin. "And we're not going to curse him."

Missi pouted. "Why not? You cursed me with pigeon pox when you were like seven. Can't you just give him a case of it?"

"That was almost twenty years ago. Let it go." Virginia laughed. "And I didn't mean to curse you with a disease that shouldn't exist. I got chicken and pigeon confused."

"Gee, that makes it better," said Missi, smiling as she stared off in the direction Barnebas had gone. "I'm normally against cursing anyone anyways, especially with how much Mémé Marie- Claire is always going on about watching what we say when we're angry, but really, that man has been a fly in the ointment for years over that plot of land."

Virginia couldn't stop the giggles that escaped. "I know, but if you cursed him, you'd have guilt later."

She stuck out her lower lip. "You're right. I'd end up getting him a chocolate chess pie from Elixir's. He likes those."

Virginia grinned again. "I heard."

Missi eyed the mail and package in Virginia's hand. "Moonlighting from the restaurant and delivering post? And what is that smell?"

"I think it's the package for Betty. I offered to take Luc his mail. Bob has been giving Barnebas a hard time of it lately. I saw Howie on the roof getting the mail off it the other day. Bob and Howie stole Barnebas's mailbag and went for the roof, and apparently Barnebas was still hooked to it."

"Is it wrong that I'm sorry I missed seeing that?" asked Missi before she glanced at the vehicles parked on the street. "York and Louis are here too?"

New York (York) and Louisiana (Louis) were two of their older brothers, identical twins who were vastly different personality wise. York tended to hide behind sarcasm and humor, never really showing his trues emotions. Louis was more serious, and fine with appearing vulnerable at times. They really were night and day.

York also drove a gas-guzzling diesel truck, and Louis drove a hybrid to be more fuel efficient. Both vehicles were there. So was their father's work car. There were other vehicles as well, but she didn't know who they belonged to.

"Momma didn't say what she wanted us here for?" asked Virginia.

Missi shook her head. "She called the magic shop and said she tried you at the restaurant, but you weren't answering. Then she just told me to get in touch with you and come on out here as soon as I could. Took me a minute to close up the shop."

Virginia nodded. "I wasn't at the restaurant. I was on my way back from checking on a chef I'm interested in hiring, who's working down in the French Quarter. Long story short, he's not for Runes. I wish Momma would call my cell phone."

Missi's cheeks tinged with pink. "Erm, I'm pretty sure she doesn't bother with our cells because I can never find mine, Louis doesn't turn his on, and York's ends up all over town. You know, the marina, the bar, random women's bedrooms."

Virginia snorted. "And somehow he's proud of that fact. Men."