Wickedly Dangerous (Baba Yaga, #1)

“Fine, then,” Belinda braced her narrow shoulders. “What is my first task?”


Baba put on her best portentous voice. This was the official bit. “You must discover for me what is causing the disruption of nature’s balance in this region. I can hear the land and water and air cry out in anguish. Tell me what is as the root of their pain, and I will help you.”

Part of her job as the Baba Yaga was to maintain the balance of the natural world, but even with control over the elements, it was an impossible task in this day and age. There were too few Babas and too many humans bent on destroying the planet. But since she was here anyway, she might as well figure out what was disturbing the local equilibrium and set it right. By setting her new client to find the problem, she could kill two birds with one uniform-clad stone.

To her surprise, the woman laughed. “I thought this was supposed to be an impossible task. I can answer that question right now.”

Baba took a slow breath. Well, that was unexpected. It was rare for anything—or anyone—to catch her by surprise. Interesting. Perhaps she wasn’t dealing with two separate issues after all. The mystery deepened.

“Is that so?” she said, expression bland and unimpressed. “Tell me, then.”

“It’s the hydrofracking,” Belinda said, as if everyone knew about it.

“The what? Is that some kind of curse word?”

Belinda’s mouth twisted. “It should be. Hydraulic fracturing is a way of forcing water, mixed with chemicals and sand and other things, sometimes including radioactive trackers, down deep into the earth under extreme pressure. It can contaminate the water table for miles around, it causes water and air pollution, and the waste water it generates is highly poisonous.”

Baba felt her jaw drop open. “Why would anyone do such a thing?” Humans were even more insane than she’d already thought.

“Money,” Belinda replied, her tone so bitter that the herbs on the shelf above her head shriveled inside their jar. “Hydrofracking is used to access natural gas deposits. The gas companies pay a lot of money to lease land so that they can use it for drilling. And a lot of people around here are desperate; the small farmers can’t compete with the big agribusinesses, and plenty of folks in this area never had any money to start with.”

Baba shook her head. “Still, how can they not see that destroying the water and the land will make things worse for them?” Chudo-Yudo growled, and she reached down to pet him in a rare gesture of solidarity.

“Damned if I know,” Belinda said. “But some of it is greed and some of it is ignorance, I guess. And the gas company hands out lies like they were Halloween candy.” She got a slightly wicked glint in her eye and stared at Baba thoughtfully. “There’s a meeting tonight in town. You should come. It’s supposed to be for the anti-fracking folks, but usually the pro-fracking folks come too, including the local head of the gas company, Peter Callahan, who’s the biggest douchebag I ever saw. I’d kinda like to see what happens if you meet him.”

“You really don’t like this man, do you?” Baba raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t as if she had any big plans for the evening. “Is the sheriff going to be there?” Not that she cared.

“I expect so,” Belinda said. “We’ve had some fights nearly break out at the last couple of meetings, so he’ll probably have a few us there in uniform just to keep things civil. Why, did you want to ask him some more questions about the kids?”

Chudo-Yudo made a choking noise, and Baba kicked him with one bare foot. It was like kicking a brick wall. You’d think she’d learn.

“Yes, of course,” Baba said. “Fights, eh? I like fighting.” She cracked her knuckles and Belinda jumped, possibly realizing a little too late that maybe this hadn’t been her best idea. “Suddenly this place is looking like a lot more fun. Fighting. Excellent.”


*

BABA RESTED HER shoulders against a cement-block wall at the back of the ugliest meeting hall she’d ever seen. Why an otherwise lovely town full of quaint old buildings would choose to hold its important gatherings in a modern beige-on-taupe-on-tan brick eyesore was beyond her. Rows of dinged gray metal folding chairs were filled with muttering people; the rank odor of their sweat and resentment offended her sensitive nose, and their churning emotions made her wish she’d stayed home where there was only a fire-breathing dragon to deal with.