Witch's Guide to a Magical Life

by Donna McDonald

  “Big Jim and the twins?”

  “Here!” a warlock called loudly from the second row. “I’m Jim. The twins were from the reserve warlocks who weren’t chosen. They were just on loan to us for the day. It was the twins who turned the bodies over to Sir Grumpus before they left. The bodies have now been preserved, in case you want to see them.”

  Carol was afraid to ask, but she didn’t want her warlocks to think she was a wimp about gross things—even though she kind of was. She was still recovering from exploding a giant.

  “Preserved how?” Carol asked calmly.

  When the other warlocks turned to look at Harry, so did she. “Pickled,” Harry admitted. “My great-great-grandfather likes to pickle his cadavers. Sir Grumpus invented his personal process after studying Egyptian embalming in elementary school.”

  Carol bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the pain would keep her from laughing hysterically again. “Good thing I’ve always like pickles,” she said, grinning when they all nodded in approval.

  Harry rubbed his nose. “I looked at the dead. One of the bodies had what appeared to be a large hypodermic needle sticking out of it. I poofed over to the lab at my alma mater with it…”

  “Oxford?” Carol asked to be sure.

  “Yes. That’s right,” Harry said with a small smile. “An old friend of mine is a professor there now. He used to focus his research on ancient relics. Now he’s about ready to retire—poor old bloke. Anyway, he’s lately been seeing a rise in what he calls technology for extracting magic.”

  “That sounds unbelievable,” Carol said.

  Harry nodded. “Yes, I know. So does the fact that some of it is being developed by non-magical humans. My friend said that the extraction needle I brought was obviously crafted by someone who knew the source of magic very well. Plus, they knew exactly where in the heart chakra to insert the drain tube. There was even a bit of magic residue left to corroborate his story.”

  Carol rose from her chair to pace. “So you’re telling me someone has found a way to steal magic from others?”

  Harry nodded. “And we know the person has already stolen from two magicals so they should now be infused with some amount of power. Since the other four council members are not accounted for yet, I’m guessing they’re on the menu too.”

  “Do we think the effects of stolen magic wear off over time?”

  “My friend says the effects are permanent and irreversible. The extraction process kills the original owner, so that makes sense.”

  Every instinct screamed this was all Isobel’s doing. That desperate witch would do anything she could to take back the power that had been taken from her.

  Isobel was insane, but she wasn’t dumb. Carol suspected Isobel wouldn’t come after the Baba Yaga magic until she felt like she had the power to take her on and win.

  But Hildy? Hildy as a healer might not be able to hold off a wielder of dark magic who now had the power of two advanced magicals running through her.

  Carol needed to find the dark witch and find her before she had a chance to steal more magic. So where did she need to start looking?

  Before she could send the warlocks out ahead of her, Marvin appeared in the back of the yurt. At his side was a gorgeous red-haired beauty with starry green eyes and creamy skin the color of milk. She looked surreal. Every male head turned to stare in admiration.

  “Uh… Harry?”

  “Yes, Great One,” he answered automatically, his gaze never leaving the woman.

  “See that the guys rest up and get ready for a witch hunt, okay?”

  “As you wish,” Harry replied. Then he pointed. “Who is that gorgeous creature?”

  “Ibarra is a djinn princess. She’s also Ahmed’s intended. He’s been avoiding her for a couple of centuries now. I think it’s time they get reacquainted.”

  “I can see why he’s been avoiding her,” Harry said.

  “Really?” Carol asked, turning to check out Ibarra again. “She looks okay to me.”

  Harry laughed. “Oh, she’s quite beautiful… and her energy is pure. I suspect that your djinn knows that once he becomes enthralled, he’ll never be able to leave her.”

  Carol snorted. “Do you really believe love works like that?”

  “I’ve heard it does.”

  Shrugging, Carol took in a deep breath. “Ahmed and I have a little… thing… going on between us.”

  “So you said before,” Harry answered with a grin. “What kind of thing do you have going on with Fabio?”

  “An indefinable one that I don’t want to discuss,” Carol said, listening to Harry laugh as she walked away.

  10

  “Ahmed!” Carol called as she walked into the house.

  She followed the single bark she heard coming from the living room and found her familiar staring at the TV he’d insisted she have. Neither of them watched the entertainment on it, but Ahmed liked it for background noise when he was alone.

  Carol fisted a hand on one hip. “I missed you in the yurt. The warlocks and I were working out a plan. Are you still brooding about our discussion?”

  Ahmed morphed into a human. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Carol smiled at his choices. “You look outstanding in those clothes. I hate to have to ask you to change, but we have guests coming. Why don’t you put on your best pajama pants? That jeweled vest was a nice touch too—you can wear that again.”

  Crossing his arms, Ahmed shook his head in a rare rebellion. She chuckled at Ahmed’s reluctance to obey her wishes in any form lately. It was time for him to go—no matter how much she was going to miss him.

  “Morgana may be coming by. I invited her too,” Carol explained.

  She walked over and plopped down beside him on the couch. “I’m heading off to do some serious Baba Yaga work soon. In case anything happens to me, I want you to know that I’ve been honored by your service all these years. You’ve taken good care of me, Ahmed. I’ll never forget you.”

  “You wouldn’t have to forget me if I stayed. Why is your goddess coming by? And why are you telling me? Morgana the Red usually visits you alone and locks me out.”

  Carol shrugged a shoulder. “I asked Morgana for a favor. Do you remember the witch Isobel that Hildy froze? I jailed her, but she’s escaped. I’m going to have to track her down again. Morgana needs to know because Isobel was the other witch who was being considered for the Baba Yaga position. Someone on the council trained her and she turned to dark magic.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone being the Baba Yaga except you.”

  Carol laughed. “Me neither. I like the job. It does have some suck-ass moments at times, though. Losing you is in that category. Tracking down my nemesis over and over is rising to the top of the crap list as well. But it has its good parts. I’ve had two kick-ass familiars. I also like my new warlocks. It turns out they’re named for man tools which is hysterical.”

  Ahmed looked at her strangely. “Man tools? Are you speaking of hammers and nails?”

  Giggling, Carol touched his leg and pushed to her feet. “More like screwdrivers and drill bits, but you’re in the general tool bag.”

  “Sometimes it’s like you don’t speak English, Carol.”

  Laughing at Ahmed’s confusion, she nodded and grinned. “It’s a girl joke. You don’t have to get it, but Hildy will. Oh… by the way… there’s someone here to see you.”

  “Me? Are you sure?”

  Carol nodded and walked to the hallway. She looked at Ibarra in her harem clothes. “Trust me,” she whispered to the woman as she waved her hand.

  Ibarra giggled softly as she looked down at the short dress now revealing her amazing legs.

  Carol laughed too. It made her heart happy to be doing this for Ahmed. And whether anyone understood it or not, it genuinely made her heart happy when she saw Iren with his fairy princess. Ahmed and Iren were both good men, and she was glad they had been a part of her life. She was learning though that real love was often about knowing when t
o let a person go.

  “Now you’re dressed like he is,” Carol whispered, passing by the still giggling djinn princess who’d turned out to be a real sweetie.

  Harry’s theory was probably right about Ahmed avoiding his inevitable connection to Ibarra—much like Iren had done with his intended. And she was right to let Ahmed go before she allowed herself to get more attached to him as a human.

  Like she told him… no woman wanted to share, not even a djinn with centuries to live ahead of her.

  Carol stood in her hallway and listened to Ibarra saying a soft hello. She also listened to Ahmed’s shocked reply before she headed back to the yurt.

  Carol would have loved to have had a picture of them as they arrived in one large group. Their presence drew the full attention of those sitting on the porch. Someone slammed the screen door after going inside to tell Hildy she was there.

  Carol grinned at Chuck who waved at her. She winked and made him blush. Then her gaze shifted to the red-haired man rising from the steps to stare at her. She and Harry had decided that their mission required more appropriate outfits.

  Both had chosen a sleek black rubber bodysuit that fit like a glove. They had accessorized with large metal belts, minimal jewelry above the throat, and fashionable black boots with low heels. Harry had kept his black bowler on so Carol wound up her long blonde hair spun up into a French twist for the occasion.

  Begging not to have to dress up like her and Harry, the rest of the man tools—aka her warlock posse—wore their favorite drab dark robes.

  She imagined they did look intimidating to the people of Assjacket. Harry quickly gave the order for the warlocks to fan out and search the woods. They flipped up their cowls, divided into several groups, and then set out on foot to do it.

  Carol’s gaze was drawn to the man who rose from his seat on the steps and headed toward her. Everyone was surprised when three large cats burst out of the house and knocked Fabio down before running over him to get to her first.

  Carol laughed at Fabio’s glare at the cats when Fabio lifted his face off the walkway. “Hey, guys. Long time no see,” she said.

  “Youse is lookin’ very Babalicious today,” Fat Bastard said, hugging her leg. He pulled back to let his Boba Fett and Jango Fett have a turn. “What’s with dem grim reapers?”

  “They’re not grim reapers. They’re my warlock posse.”

  “If youse say so. What ya doin’ with Hands Down Harry?”

  “Who?” She turned to see Harry blushing while he glared at Fat Bastard.

  Fat Bastard lifted a paw in what passed for a kitty shrug. “Guess it makes sense dat a woman as hot as youse would need a good-looking guy dat was really comfortable wearin’ somethin’ made of rubber.”

  Harry glared and pointed a finger. “Watch your disrespectful mouth, cat. You’re talking to my new boss.”

  “Boss?” Fat Bastard looked at Carol, who nodded.

  “That’s amazing. Do you actually hear the cats talking?” Carol asked.

  “Yes, and we wish we didn’t,” Fabio answered for him.

  Fat Bastard purred and licked his paw. “Of course, dey hear us. How else could weeze play cards? Weez have to communicate to make bets.”

  Harry looked at Carol. “Never play cards with these guys either. Fabio has taught them everything he knows.”

  “I don’t gamble,” Carol said.

  “Me neither,” Fabio said.

  Everyone froze as they turned to stare at him.

  “Any more…” Fabio amended with a laugh. “I mean, I don’t gamble anymore. It was just a fun way to blow off steam while I was in college.”

  “Youse left college ten years ago,” Fat Bastard reminded him.

  “Shut up, wise guy,” Fabio hissed.

  Rolling her eyes, Carol walked between stupid Fabio and the feline as she made her way toward the house. “Where’s Hildy?” she asked Chuck who was still sitting on the porch steps.

  “Locked in the basement. Should I go let her out of the cage now?”

  Carol’s mouth dropped open. “You put your mate in a cage?”

  “Only because she begged me to,” Chuck stated in his defense. “Why? Was that wrong? It seemed to make her happy, and I always try to make Hildy happy. An unhappy Hildy refuses to make honey muffins.”

  “Goddess, this place makes me crazy every time I come here. I don’t know how Hildy stays sane.” She turned to Harry. “Watch over the yo-yos, will you, Harry? I need to spring my best friend from a cage.”

  Harry saluted as he chuckled. Then he punched Fabio’s arm to get him to stop staring.

  Focusing on her primary task instead of a gawking Fabio, Carol transported to the healing room in the basement. There she discovered Hildy was indeed in a cage. She had a computer tablet and was humming as she scrolled through the latest Paris fashions.

  When Hildy looked up and saw Carol, she turned the tablet around to show her an haute couture dress. “Can you imagine me wearing these large red swirls while I worked on shifters? I guess the blood wouldn’t show as much, but it would still ruin the fabric. The craziness of most designers is exactly why I stick to Prada. I like to be cute, but my fashion has to be practical here in Assjacket.”

  Hildy lowered the tablet when she noticed what Carol was wearing. “Rubber? Seriously, Carol? Goddess, you really need to find someone to dress you.”

  “This is my stealth gear. Don’t you think a metal Madonna bra would look spectacular with this bodysuit? I’d look like I had boobs for once.”

  “No. The bra would make everything worse. It’s bad enough that you look like an 80s commercial for exercise gear. You know—the kind where you sweat off the pounds—not that you have any extra pounds. Your great body is all that saves that horrible outfit from being laughable.”

  Carol grinned as she looked down. “I like my clothes… and for your information, I did find someone to dress me. You should see Harry’s outfit. We match.”

  Hildy made a face. “Good Goddess, I definitely don’t want your job. Rubber and leather just make me look short. Where did you find a warlock with your appalling taste in fashion?”

  “Sir Grumpus. It turns out the keeper of the pokey is Harry’s great-great-grandgeezer.”

  Hildy laughed and set the tablet down. “I’m not even surprised. You have a crazy life, Carol.”

  “That’s a hard statement to take seriously from a woman who asked a bear to lock her in a cage.”

  Hildy rolled her eyes, waved a hand to open the cage, and walked out. “It was the only way I could get the shifters to leave me alone. Everyone wanted to guard me. That translates into me having to hear all the stupid gossip in this town. I refuse to worry about pervert rabbits and cheating hyenas. I have enough on my plate with fixing real problems.”

  Carol sighed. “I guess it’s good then that Isobel hasn’t shown up.”

  “Guess so… wait…” Hildy looked at the ceiling. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?” Carol asked, looking up.

  “Silence,” Hildy whispered. “Let’s go.”

  11

  Hildy sprinted up the stairs like the Devil himself was on her heels. Carol had no choice but to chase after her. She needed to keep her friend in her sights. Hildy never thought to transport until there was no other choice. Losing the one woman she treasured most was not on her agenda today or ever.

  They ran out onto the front porch and stepped into a horror movie. Frozen statues of Fabio, Chuck, Harry, and all three cats stood immobile in the yard. The air was thick with malice and the sky had darkened menacingly. Gloating over them was a woman who cackled with evil glee when they both gasped. The woman ran her hand seductively over Chuck’s broad chest, and Hildy drew in a sharp breath.

  The gloating witch was dark-haired and dark-eyed. Her energy was like Isobel’s, but her face—something was seriously wrong with her face. Her nose did not look human at all.

  “Isobel?” Carol asked, confused.

  “I’m c
alling myself Veronica now,” the abomination hissed. “How do you like my work? I thought your yard could use some decorating. I considered bringing the ones in the woods here as well, but that was too much trouble. These men of yours are much yummier than I thought they’d be. I probably should have removed their clothes, so I’d have something fun to look at while I waited on you two to finish your little chat.”

  Carol willed herself to be calm even as she grabbed the back of Hildy’s shirt to keep her friend from charging the woman who’d frozen Chuck. Talk about role reversals—but Hildy was crazy when it came to anyone threatening her bear.

  “I thought transmutation spells were permanent. How in the world did you change back from being a dragon?” Carol asked casually as if they had conversations like this all the time.

  Isobel-Veronica studied her nails. “Who told you I changed a dragon? No one saw me do it. I killed the guards surrounding my cell and took out the cameras.”

  “Sir Grumpus told me. He saw you breaking the council members out.”

  “That old fart can’t see three feet in front of him. How old is he?” she demanded.

  Carol pretended to consider the question. “Based on the fact Sir Grumpus has a sixty-year-old great, great grandson, I’m thinking he’s probably close to a thousand.”

  “Wow,” Isobel-Veronica said. “Hope I live to be that old.”

  “You won’t,” Carol stated matter-of-factly.

  “No. You definitely won’t because I’m going to rip open your chest and tear out your freaking heart!” Hildy screamed, trying to escape the hold Carol had on her.

  “Bring it, healer. You’re the one I came to see. I’m ready to take you now. None of Gaia’s chants can rival the combined power of the advanced magicals coursing through me.”

  “You’re right, Isobel. Hildy’s healing power wouldn’t stand a chance,” Carol said agreeably, waving her free hand and sending a now-frozen Hildy to her house. Hopefully, her appearance wouldn’t disrupt Ahmed and Ibarra mid-reconciliation.