She was absolutely not going to acknowledge the feeling that Jack, who brokered agreements between feuding Brownies and made sure Dan didn’t freeze, would have been disappointed in her had she refused to help.

A sign on the front lawn declared the house a B&B called The Teddy Bears’ Picnic.

“Of course it is.”

On the way up the walk, Charlie pulled her guitar out of the bag and reflected on how the 2010 Teddybears album containing the song “Cardiac Arrest” had been called Devil’s Music. “Foreshadowing,” she sighed. “The sign of quality metaphysical fuckups.” No one answered her knock, or, after she discovered it, the ringing of the brass doorbell.

A simple charm popped the door open.

Too easy?

“Don’t even start,” she muttered.

Given the bears in the windows, Charlie had expected to there to be bears all over the house. While she couldn’t guarantee it was the same in every room, the four she could see from the large foyer had bears only in the windows. She wasn’t sure if that was better, or worse.

The furniture looked old and shabby, but comfortable. The walls in the sitting room to the left were covered in red flocked wallpaper. The scuffed hardwood floors were covered in worn rugs. The banister on the stairs leading up to the second and third floors had been painted black and the stairs themselves were covered in red-and-black paisley carpet. Nothing about the house said evil lived there.

Nothing but the bears, and they wouldn’t shut up about it.

Charlie half thought she could smell the lingering scent of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

Yeah, well, baking was not a character reference. The aunties baked. The younger members of the family learned to stay away when the breeze carried the scent of gingerbread.

The teddy bears knew she’d entered the house. She could feel their awareness like pop rocks fizzing against her tongue . . . only she felt it all over. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling.

Standing quietly, fingers resting lightly on the strings, she took a moment to figure out what to do next. The bears were pressed against the windows, staring out. Free the bears. Break the windows. Break the windows from the inside.

“All of a sudden, I miss my Orange Thunderverb 200.” Cranking the big old amp up to eleven would certainly make what she was about to do easier. Humming “Teddy Bears’ Picnic,” she reached into the watch pocket of her jeans and swapped out her flat pick for a thumb pick. While her hands played the song, Charlie built a charm with her voice. She didn’t know that all the windows had to be broken at the same time, but better safe than sorry. The charm fought to fly free. She fought to hold it while building it larger, stronger.