Witch's Guide to a Magical Life

by Donna McDonald

  Fabio shook his head. “Everything you think and feel is my business.”

  Carol lifted one hand to the sky and the thunder rumbled overhead. Things never went well when her energy got this churned up. Her magic was too strong. “Are you trying to make me kill you? Because I will. I’ve killed people before. A few weeks of feeling guilty and I can usually move right on to killing the next one.”

  “Well, if I’m going to die for love anyway…” Fabio muttered with a deep chuckle.

  Stepping fully into her, he put his arms around her and pulled her close. Their melded bodies drew passionate moans from both of them.

  “Kiss me, Carol,” he commanded, moving his lips gently, but urgently against hers.

  She felt the flame of Fabio’s kiss ignite the sleeping kundalini energy at the base of her spine. Energy she’d never felt before traveled up her back and out of her chakras to fill her aura to overflowing. She felt like a glowing star as he had his way with her mouth.

  Her arms found their way around Fabio to keep him close. The man in her arms groaned in her embrace and hugged her like he’d never let go. Hands down it was the most perfect moment of her life. With his scorching kiss, the warlock in her arms quickly accomplished what she’d feared was impossible. Fabio surpassed her memories of Iren and of every other male she’d ever known.

  Carol finally pushed free and touched her tingling lips in shock. Fabio had made her feel weak and needy with just a kiss. She didn’t like that feeling. She didn’t like it at all. What would happen if they really got close?

  When her gaze rose to his, Fabio looked like he was going to attack her. Another kiss that powerful and he’d have her on her back before the warlock could say abracadabra.

  Then she indeed would be just one more conquest.

  “No,” she squeaked, throwing up a hand between them.

  Swallowing the sob that threatened, Carol lifted a now shaking hand and willed Fabio gone. Her call to the four elements to send him back where he’d come from was instantly obeyed. The action had taken almost no effort and no deep thought like usual.

  Whatever Fabio had activated in her had apparently given her more magic.

  A thousand fantasies of being with Fabio hit her at once as Carol dropped to the ground. Emotional strength gone, she let her unwanted feelings find their way out of her body in streaming tears.

  It ached to hurt this much emotionally. She wasn’t a crier. She was more a beat somebody up person. But the only person she could beat up over this was her goddess. That indeed was impossible even if nothing else was.

  “Damn you, Morgana. I feel betrayed,” she whispered as the tears ran hot down her face.

  A mournful Ahmed pushed his way under one arm to look at her with great concern. Had he ever seen her cry before? Carol didn’t think he had. Plus, she was cursing the source of her power, and that was never, ever a good thing for a witch to do.

  “It’s just because I don’t want him to be the one,” Carol said sadly.

  Ahmed leaned against her and whined. Carol ran a shaking hand over Ahmed’s back. She needed a distraction from these feelings and needed it fast.

  “How do you feel about tacos for dinner, Ahmed? I’m in the mood for tacos and a couple of giant margaritas. Let’s get dressed up and go to Mexico.”

  Ahmed stopped his whining and barked once.

  When he morphed into his human form, Carol let Ahmed pull her to her feet and walk her into the house.

  7

  The next morning Carol woke up next to Ahmed like always. His doggie eyes were staring at her in concern again. She looked away and yawned before speaking. She knew why he was worried.

  “The Mariachi band played my favorite song. I had to dance the Mambo. Who was the guy in the sombrero? I liked the way he spun me around.”

  Ahmed morphed into his human self. He raised up on one elbow and frowned. “It wasn’t a sombrero. He had thick hair… and the man was the bartender at the restaurant.”

  “Oh.” Carol chuckled as she slid out of bed still wearing her red ruffled dress.

  Four margaritas without a hangover was a new record for her, but she felt mostly fine.

  “Dancing was fun. The Mambo isn’t as fun as doing the Hustle, but it did keep me distracted for a while.”

  “He’s not worth it.”

  There was no pretending not to know what Ahmed meant. “Unfortunately, I do know—that’s my stinking problem.”

  She walked to the bathroom, closed the door, and nearly screamed at her reflection. Holding up a hand and turning her face from the wild woman with wild hair looking back at her, Carol chanted and felt the ruffle dress disappear.

  Climbing into the shower as quickly as she could, Carol turned it on full and stood there until she felt human again. When she crawled out of the shower twenty minutes later, she found her favorite underwear, leggings, and off-the-shoulder t-shirt waiting.

  She was really going to miss this when Ahmed moved on. He took such good care of her even when he disapproved of her actions.

  She dressed quietly and left her hair wet after staring at herself for a while. The woman in the mirror didn’t even look confident, much less kick-ass this morning. It was alarming to have found such a weakness in herself. Fabio wasn’t worth this. Ahmed was right.

  Tired of her personal pity party, she left the bathroom and found a human Ahmed waiting in the kitchen with coffee and food. He was wearing more pajama pants today, and his naked chest was barely covered by a vest with a ton of real jewels sewn onto the front of it.

  “Wow. Is that your sultan prince gear?”

  “I will overlook your bad attitude this morning, but do not insult my clothing again. The croissants are fresh from Paris. Francois said to tell you hello.”

  Carol slipped into a chair. Ahmed had been getting the brunt of everything ugly she spewed for a couple of days now. “I guess I had a meltdown yesterday.”

  “You had something,” Ahmed agreed, turning from the counter to glare. “With me, you were coldly logical and firm in your refusal of my affection. With the idiot warlock, you wept and ran away to Mexico to get drunk. It is obvious to both of us who owns your passion.”

  “Look… I’m sorry. What else can I say? I’m having one of those times the Jezibaba warned me about.”

  Ahmed stopped fooling with stuff on the counter to take the chair across from her. “What do you mean?”

  Carol sighed and ate the rest of her croissant before answering. “Elenora warned me not to get too arrogant about my personal power. She said there would always be things that happened, which would remind me that I was still first and foremost a human woman. Turns out she was one hundred percent right. Fabio is one of those things…”

  Ahmed snorted. “I am insulted that it is the red-haired idiot who did so instead of me.”

  She picked up her coffee and sipped. “Join the club. I’m insulted too. He’s not…”

  “Worthy?” Ahmed suggested.

  Shrugging, Carol drank more coffee. Everything she knew about Fabio she’d learned second-hand until that damn, mind-melting kiss.

  “I don’t know if Fabio is worthy or not. I only know I don’t want to have these kinds of feelings for him. If I was into falling for inappropriate men, I’d rather fall for you. All you have is one fiancée. Fabio is the one with a harem.”

  Ahmed crossed his arms. “Should I be insulted once more?”

  Laughing, Carol shrugged a second time. “I don’t think so. You don’t seem to be the type to keep a harem even if you do look like a desert sheik this morning.”

  Rolling his eyes, Ahmed snapped his fingers until he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

  Carol giggled as she met his irritated gaze. “I’m high maintenance, aren’t I?”

  “There is no answer that will not get me confined to the rug on the floor tonight.”

  As she laughed at his evasive reply, Carol felt her heart lighten. “It wasn’t just kissing him that freaked me out.
It was what Fabio said to me. It was Harry warning me about his story before I heard it. My goddess is involved, and I don’t understand why Morgana picked him.”

  She picked up her coffee and sipped. It was as excellent as always.

  “But no matter how mad I am about my fate, I can’t kill my goddess. That means I have to figure this personal stuff out—after I figure out the whole magical dragon bad guy thing.”

  “The jail was broken into a week ago. You’ve done nothing to seek those that escaped.”

  Ignoring the chastisement, Carol bit into a fluffy almond croissant. It was heavenly, and she was feeling better. She shook her head. “That’s not true. I’ve picked a posse.”

  “You picked one warlock. One is not a posse.”

  She set down her pastry and frowned. “Why are you busting on me so hard?”

  Ahmed shrugged. “I suppose because I am angry with you.”

  “Are you going to be angry until you leave?” she asked.

  Ahmed blinked and stared instead of answering.

  “Men and their fragile egos…” Carol said tiredly, shaking her head. “Shit like this makes me wish I was a lesbian.” She finished her coffee and stood up. “Thanks for breakfast. Thanks for the company last night. Is Harry here yet?”

  “Yes. He’s in the backyard. Apparently, he’s created the Baba Yaga a formal gathering space. He’s also built some sort of dormitory for the warlocks in the woods beyond the yard.”

  Carol went to her window and glanced out. She smiled at what she saw. “A yurt?”

  “He said the roundness of the design enhanced the flow of chi through the space. I think it was more about the music flowing through it. He’s been blasting George Michael in there all morning. I made him soundproof the building so the noise wouldn’t wake you. The disco ball on the ceiling is also a bit much, but I didn’t comment on his poor decorating skills. He was quite proud of what he was doing, so I went along with as much of it as I could.”

  Carol grinned as she walked back to the table. Her djinn prince was good-hearted and would make a benevolent djinn king one day. Every moment he spent with her in human form only made it more apparent that Ahmed’s destiny was elsewhere.

  When she bent to kiss Ahmed’s cheek, he stiffened in surprise, which made her laugh. She patted his shoulder as he stared at her. Goddess, she was going to miss him, even this human version of him which was thoroughly male and often irritating.

  “Change is always scary, Ahmed—even good change. Everything is going to work out just fine though—you’ll see.”

  “Hey, Harry!” Carol called loudly as she walked into the yurt. She could feel he’d set the energy in it to resonate with her natural frequency. The place felt as good as her house did and Morgana had sanctified that for her.

  When Harry saw her, he waved then waved again toward the sound to lower it. He also shifted the song that was playing to a ballad before he walked to greet her.

  Carol grinned when she saw his tinted glasses, his John Lennon t-shirt, and another suit with shoulder pads. “Nice look. Love the shirt.”

  “Me too. Good morning, Great One.”

  “Good morning. Are the other warlocks coming back soon?” Carol asked.

  “They’re already here. I’ll summon them when you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready,” Carol said. “Did you make a final selection?”

  “I picked seven, and one was Marvin. The others have returned to their old jobs for now. They were all willing to come back any time you need them.”

  “Sir Grumpus said no warlocks wanted to work with me because I’d let the Jezibaba’s warlocks go.”

  Harry grinned. “I think you’ll find these warlocks are not the old school kind. They like your progressive thinking.”

  “Ha!” Carol said with a fist pump before she caught herself. “Sorry—that was bragging, wasn’t it?”

  Harry shrugged. “You’ve earned that right.”

  When the warlocks assembled, Carol went through the binding ritual with each warlock and then perched on the table at the front of the space. She explained about the break-in and what little she knew. She was just about to send them off to check into the situation when Harry stopped her.

  “There’s something my great-great-grandgeez… I mean, there’s something Sir Grumpus forgot to mention to you about the break-in.”

  “What’s that?” Carol asked, the hair on her arms instantly lifting in warning.

  “One of the missing prisoners was not a member of the Council of Witches.”

  “What?” Carol yelled the question as she bounded off the table. Thunder rumbled overhead. She flexed her hands to calm herself. “Who else is missing?”

  Harry winced. “The witch named Isobel. No one saw her leave, but she’s not in her cell anymore. Sir Grumpus is assuming the dragon broke her out as well.”

  Carol’s fingers sparked. She had to warn Hildy. “Harry, take the warlocks and see what you can find out. Take them all except Marvin. I have another task for Marvin.”

  “Consider it done,” Harry said, looking at the others and nodding.

  In an instant, only she and Marvin were left.

  Marvin bowed his head to her. “What do you wish from me, Great One?”

  Carol looked around to make sure no one was going overhear her request. She walked close to Marvin and whispered. “I need you to track down a powerful djinn. Does that worry you?”

  Marvin shook his head. “It does not worry me. I serve the Baba Yaga.”

  Carol blinked and then laughed at his calm declaration. It would worry her a little, but maybe Marvin had a spine of steel. “You know something, Marvin? I really like how that sounds—serving the Baba Yaga and all. I hope it doesn’t go to my head when all eight of you say it.”

  “I have studied the handbook for this position. Power only answers the call of the one strong enough to wield it. It is the role of the Baba Yaga’s chosen warlocks to make sure she does not lack the confidence needed for her work. The witch protectress must exude confidence at all times.”

  Carol couldn’t hide all her surprise. Why did every magical position seem to have a reference manual except hers?

  “You’re right, Marvin. Being the Baba Yaga is a fake it until you make it kind of job. Here…” she said, handing him a piece of paper she’d origamied into the shape of a camel, “take this note to a Djinn Princess named Ibarra. If she asks, tell her the Baba Yaga needs to see her on a matter of personal business. She may not be too happy about it at first, so watch yourself.”

  “I will serve you with honor and die with dignity.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Carol said, wincing with guilt. What she was asking Marvin to do was the equivalent of sending Harry to fetch breakfast—only far more dangerous. “Do you sing, Marvin? I’d really like you to sing some Marvin Gaye songs at Karaoke night. You have an incredible voice.”

  “Karaoke? Is that required for this work?” Marvin asked.

  Carol laughed when the warlock’s face showed panic. She nodded as thoughtfully as she could. If she got consigned to the demon realm when she died, it would be for stuff like this.

  “Yes. Didn’t Harry tell you? We’ll be doing Karaoke every Wednesday night.”

  “Very well. I’ll start practicing when I return from the task you’ve given me.”

  “Excellent,” Carol said, trying her best to keep her amusement hidden. “I’m done. You can go now.”

  “So I’m dismissed?”

  Carol’s smile fell away. She was going to kick Sir Grumpus in his old geezer butt. “It was just an expression, Marvin. I don’t believe in bossing people around.”

  “That’s not what I heard… I mean…” Marvin went silent, and his face turned red.

  Carol crossed her arms. “Go. Now,” she ordered, snorting when the warlock poofed out of her sight.

  She looked down at her clothes and sighed. She might as well leave them on. There really was no reason to dress u
p where she was going. Nobody in Assjacket cared what she wore.

  8

  Unwilling to leave the healing room in the basement, Hildy climbed up on her medical table and stretched out for a nap. Bone tired, she still didn’t want to miss anyone who might come in needing help.

  It had been a long morning of healing that had stretched into early afternoon. Somewhere around dawn, fighting had broken out between the shifters in Mac’s kingdom and some rogue group of honey badgers that were apparently passing through the area like some rogue biker gang.

  As soon as Mac had put out a call to other packs for help, the woods around Assjacket filled with more wolves than she’d ever seen in one place before. With Chuck’s brother away at school again, her mate had taken the bear cubs, and his mother to his uncle’s lair among a group of mostly bear shifters.

  By mid-afternoon though, the honey badgers had mysteriously disappeared as fast as they’d arrived. Nobody saw them leave or knew where they’d gone. There were literally no signs left of their presence.

  Fortunately, no shifter had died during the short but vicious fight, or at least none from Mac’s kingdom had gone on to the Next Adventure. Yet Hildy had never seen so many slashes and bite marks on her people before. She’d done her best to heal as many as possible before sending her patients home to finish recovering.

  Now it was her turn.

  Healing was hard work and took a toll. Just a little nap ought to fix her up enough to deal with whatever else might come through her door. Chuck was due back anytime, and she didn’t want her mate to worry if he found her sleeping.

  The big dummy might think she was dead and the last thing the town needed today was a rampaging bear.

  Maybe she’d just sleep until he woke her up with a kiss. That would be nice—really, really nice. Kissing Chuck was always nice. The man really knew how to use his tongue.

  “Why in seven hells are you sleeping in the middle of the day?”