Midsummer Monsters: Druid Detective Agency, #4

By Theophilus Monroe

The solstice sun strikes the circle of stone...

 

... and the veil between worlds is changed.

New monsters now walk the earth.

But where did they come from?

It's a new threat for a new season.

But for the first time we're totally stumped. And half of my team is addicted to hunting one of them.

What the heck is that about?

Will I figure it out in time to stop these beasts before they destroy the city?

Midsummer Monsters is the fourth book in the new Druid Detective Agency urban fantasy series. Elijah and Emilie already went through one adventure. Now, ten years after The Druid Legacy, they are facing a new challenge, one that will test their limits. The real threat isn't the otherworldly magic, the magic that once birthed life itself in Eden/Annwn. There was a reason why humanity was cast from the garden groves. When the magic of that place comes home, it won't take long to find out why. The real threat was here all along, hidden in human hearts, now made manifest by the power of creation itself.

 

Harry Potter meets Harry Dresden in Druid Detective Agency.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theophilus Monroe
• Release date: Jun 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223337577

Book preview

Copyright © 2024 by Theophilus Monroe.

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Cover Design by Christian Bentulan

Proofreading/Editing by Mel: https://getproofreader.co.uk/

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

 For information: 

www.theophilusmonroe.com

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Do you also enjoy audiobooks?

Midsummer Monsters is also available in audiobook HERE

Contents

PART I

1. Moves Like Jagger

2. Stoned

3. Mind Games

4. Daddy Issues

5. Night Moves

6. Midsummer's Eve

INTERLUDES I

I.1.1. Sir Percival

I.1.2. Ernie Thompson

PART II

7. Disorderly Conduct

8. Chief Problems

9. I'm the Map

10. Re-Questing

INTERLUDES II

I.2.1. Anna

I.2.2. Corvus Blackwood

PART III

11. Desperate Devils

12. Carrots and Sticks

13. Grail House Rock

14. Noodled

15. Revelation

About the Author

Also By Theophilus Monroe

PART I

1. Moves Like Jagger

One more rep, I muttered to myself, arms straining as I lifted the dumbbells. The new home-gym setup was sleek, all polished chrome and high-tech gadgetry. It felt good to work out in our own space. I didn’t have to deal with gym germs or pricks who didn’t wipe their sweat off the machines.

Given the complexity of bad guys we faced on the regular, evil monsters from who knew where, I needed to stay in shape. I had to be ready to throw down with whatever the fates threw at me.

My walls in the home gym were now covered with floor to ceiling mirrors. I’d changed out the carpet for rubber floors. It was a small spare bedroom before. Now it was a factory of muscle and manliness.

As I looked myself over in the mirror, my stringer tank top cut just low enough under the arms to show off my growing lats, I imagined myself as an action hero. Taking down bad guys with magic and a flex.

Eat your heart out, Vin Diesel.

I was pumped up. Looking better than ever. Nothing wrong with a little mirror love.

From the other room, Emilie’s new violin filled the air with hauntingly beautiful notes. Not the kind of jam I usually worked out to—I was a hard rock kind of guy—but I always appreciated my wife’s talent. And since Morgana le Fay destroyed her old violin, she needed to practice channeling her internal bardic power into her instrument.

Emilie’s last violin was made from wood sourced from the Tree of Life. She could do everything with a regular instrument she could with the one she had before—but she had to rely more on her will and focus to achieve the desired result. It was like she’d taken off the training wheels. She couldn’t rely on her instrument to provide her bardic energy.

She had to dig deep…to channel her inner bard…

Just like I was channeling my inner Arnold. Mr. Olympia, here I come.

I struck another pose in the mirror. A full-body flex. In bodybuilder speak, the most muscular pose.

Magic and manliness. Rawr.

Hey, Dad! Merlin’s voice shattered my momentary reverie. He stood in the doorway, looking thoroughly unimpressed by my display of physical prowess. Can I play Fortnite or watch YouTube?

Merlin… I grabbed my towel and wiped the sweat from my brow. Can’t you just read a book? You haven’t earned your screen time today.

Ugh, Merlin groaned, flopping dramatically onto the bench press nearby. "It’s so dumb that I have to earn screen time. You know, when I grow up, I won’t get any screen time. They don’t have screens in Camelot! So if you think about it, I have to cram in a lifetime of Fortnite now, while I’m still a kid! I need to absorb everything on YouTube! That’s a ton to learn before I have to help King Arthur build the foundations of western society. It’s a crucial part of my education!"

First, YouTube doesn’t make you smarter. I grabbed my dumbbells and started a set of curls. "Second, until you’re off to the past to fulfill your destiny, you’re still living under my roof."

That’s not fair! he complained. I don’t want to read right now! Let me play just until you finish your workout.

Alright, alright, I relented, knowing this argument would go nowhere fast. You can play your Switch or something. But only if you change Percy’s litter.

Thanks, Dad! It’s funny how quickly a kid’s mood can shift. When he was younger, if he wanted something, he’d cry like the world was about to end. It only took a half-second for him to stop once we gave in.

I swear. Kids make the best con artists.

With Merlin occupied, I returned my attention to my workout. I started a set of flies, my chest straining against the weight. I pushed each set to the burn, all the way to failure. Because with building muscle, you have to fail to succeed. One of the bodybuilders I follow said something like that. Made sense to me.

Feeling particularly swole, I pulled off my shirt to inspect how my pecs were developing.

Hey, Dad, Merlin’s voice piped up from the doorway again.

I’m busy, Merlin. What is it? I spun to see him holding his Switch and a bag of grapes. I stared at him blankly for a few seconds. You wanted to play. I said you could. What do you want now?

He snickered. You’ve got moobs.

I stared at Merlin a few seconds, incredulous. These are not man boobs! These are pecs!

Uh-huh, Merlin said with a preteen’s naïve confidence. They’re moobs.

No, they aren’t! These are muscles! Pectoralis major and minor! I flexed, trying to show off the definition I’d been working so hard to achieve. Watch how I can flex them, see how they move up and down? Man boobs can’t do that!

You’ve got them moobs like Jagger...you’ve got them moobs like Jagger.

STOP IT! I shouted, frustration boiling over. "Those aren’t even the right lyrics! It’s moves like Jagger!"

MoooOOOOooOOOooOOobs like Jagger.

That’s quite enough! I threw my hands up in defeat. I’m going to the kitchen to refill my water. I thought you wanted to play your game, anyway.

Merlin was laughing hysterically. So hard he couldn’t get out a reply.

I shook my head. Yeah. You’re hilarious.

He followed me as I made my way to the kitchen. I had to pass through the living area on my way there. Sir Percival sat gallantly on our coffee table, guarding the Holy Grail.

I stopped and scratched him behind the ears. I know you’re worried about the Grail. But it might take a while before we figure out how to get it back into the grail realm where it’s safe. You can’t watch the thing twenty-four seven.

I must eat, Percival huffed. Food, wench!

It’s in your bowl in the kitchen, Percy. I took a deep breath. No one is going to mess with the grail while you get a bite to eat. You can’t just sit there all day, every day.

Watch me, he replied haughtily. Food. Now.

Fine, I muttered, shuffling over to the kitchen and grabbing his damn bowl. Meanwhile, Merlin had shuffled off to hassle Emilie. I set Percival’s food down in front of him. Your Highness.

Thank you, Percival said, dipping his head slightly before eating. This grail will not guard itself.

Yeah, yeah, I mumbled. As I turned to go, I noticed a peculiar smell. I sniffed the air and wrinkled my nose. Percival, did you...?

Yes, he said nonchalantly between bites. The litter box is too far away.

Too far away? It’s in the next room!

Precisely. He gestured with a paw toward the corner of the living room. I used that tree instead.

That’s a silk ficus! I felt exasperated. It’s not even real!

Doesn’t have to be real for me to piss on it.

Unbelievable. I rolled my eyes. For a knight, you’re remarkably lazy.

Efficient. He curled his tail around the base of the grail. Now, if you don’t mind, I have important duties to attend to.

I grabbed the ficus and tossed it out the back door. There’s no odor on earth more pervasive and nauseating than cat urine. There was no point trying to save the damn tree. A big statement from a druid, but given that the tree wasn’t real, it deserved the same level of respect a man might afford his inflatable girlfriend.

Never mind. That metaphor was bad. I’ve been called a tree hugger before. Never a tree humper.

The point was, fake trees are to real trees what fake women are to real ones.

Minus the potential for intercourse, of course.

Hey, Em, I greeted, peeking into our master bedroom where she was meticulously tuning her new violin.

How’s the workout? she asked without looking up, a small smile playing on her lips.

Cut short by our dear son and a certain cat errant. I crossed my arms as I leaned against the door frame. "Would you believe our son called my pecs, moobs?"

Emilie looked up at me, eyebrow cocked. Those aren’t moobs?

They’re pecs! I insisted. I can’t believe—

I’m giving you shit, Elijah.

I sighed. "Sorry. I don’t know why I’m so on edge today. I wanted to work out, but it’s one distraction after the other. It’s supposed to be my me time, you know?"

What did Percival do?

Let’s just say we need a new ficus, I sighed. I think we’ll get a real one this time. And I’ll plant poison ivy along with it to keep Percy out of it.

Good luck with that, Emilie chuckled. But being a druid doesn’t make you immune to poison ivy. We learned that the hard way, remember.

Emilie winked at me.

Long story. Let’s just say, doing it in the woods with your wife outside your home in the Ozarks is one of those things that sounds a lot more fun than it is. Especially when you don’t notice the three-leaved weed growing all around you.

A mistake we’ll never repeat. Any progress with the violin?

It’s got a beautiful tone. Emilie slid her fingers up and down the strings. "Channeling my magic through it is another matter. Before, the violin almost had a mind of its own. It always showed us what we needed to see. With this one, all my magic flows through it perfectly, but I have to direct it. It’s hard to explain."

I think I get it, I said. When I create portals, it’s sometimes difficult to know exactly where they’ll take us. I have to visualize the destination clearly, and if it’s a place we’ve never been or the room I’m taking us has changed, it’s difficult to make the connection.

Yeah, Emilie sighed. It’s a lot like that. But at least you have an idea what you’re looking for. In the past, we’ve turned to my magic when we were clueless where to turn next. It showed us something we could use. It set us on the right path. Now, though, unless I already have some idea of what we need to see, it won’t give us anything.

I shrugged. Maybe it’ll come with time. You’ve only been practicing with it a couple of days.

Emilie nodded. You’re right. And the DDA hasn’t had a case in more than a week. My gut tells me it’s just a matter of time before things pick up again.

I leaned over and kissed Emilie on the forehead. When that time comes, we’ll be ready. We always are. Speaking of that, I was just thinking. I might have a plan to send the grail back to where it belongs.

Emilie bit her lip. "You were thinking again? That’s terrifying!"

Funny. You and Merlin. You’d make a great comedy duo.

Meh. Emilie waved her hand through the air. The only jokes we tell that really hit are the ones at your expense.

I laughed. Lucky me.

Emilie set her violin down. So, what is this brilliant idea you’ve got?

I sat down beside my wife and took her hand in mine. As you know, Midsummer’s Eve is approaching. The veil between worlds will be thinner than usual that night. Merlin’s still figuring out how to work the torus, how to create gateways, but it might be the best chance we have to forge a portal back to the grail realm. So we can put it back where it’ll be safe.

Emilie nodded. Worth a shot. That’s why Percival has been on edge. He’s convinced that there are bad guys in other realms all chomping at the bit to go questing for the grail. He thinks it’s just a matter of time before they figure out it’s here.

We can’t risk it falling into the wrong hands, I replied solemnly. Corvus Blackwood is still out there. I’m surprised he hasn’t made a play to steal it yet. And there’s no telling who else might come looking for it—not just magically inclined assholes, either—if people learn we have it.

Emilie squeezed my hand. Given how many people were involved in the grail cult before, and how many people knew about what it could do, it’s only a matter of time before people figure out we have it.

I