Carol looked up and waited for him to fill in the rest. She grinned when Harry scratched his nose.
“Sorry, but I’m not in there. I didn’t think about putting in myself just my competition.”
Carol laughed at his honesty. “Tell me your warlock title anyway.”
“Must I say it aloud?”
“Yes. You must and quickly,” Carol ordered, seeing a flock of robe-wearing men coming around her house.
“I am Harrison the Fifth of the House of Merlin. There’s even more, but please don’t make me say the rest. The short version is embarrassing enough.”
Carol handed the book to a glaring Ahmed. “Hold this for me.”
“But you don’t know him, Carol. He’s nothing but a kid,” Ahmed protested. “And that outfit was only in one or two 80s movies. No one should come to an interview in something so one-off-ish.”
Carol grinned at Ahmed’s complaining and continued to study the warlock in front of her. He was no kid, but it sure didn’t show. It wasn’t his clothes either. They were fun and made her smile. What she liked about Harry was more complicated than anything that could be seen. It was the sense of having always known him. Harry felt like a friend she was reconnecting to. There was good energy already flowing between them.
Carol stiffened and made herself looking as commanding as possible. “Kneel, Harrison the Fifth of the House of Merlin.”
Harry stared at her in shock and didn’t move. She wasn’t even sure he breathed. Carol poked his chest with her finger and then made a downward motion with her hand.
“Kneel… like on the ground.” Her gaze dropped with his to the dew-laden grass. She chanted and conjured up a pillow for him. “There. Now your pants won’t get stained.”
A dazed Harry stared at the pillow on the ground before finally dropping. “Am I going to have to wear a robe?”
“Goddess no—never,” Carol promised.
She snapped her fingers and retrieved the two-foot glitter pen from her bedroom. It didn’t write anymore, but she loved the red glitter floating inside it. The pen was the perfect pledging tool.
“I welcome you into the service of the Baba Yaga, Harrison the Fifth of the House of Merlin. Because of your keen fashion sense, you will be my lead warlock. Do you accept my offer and pledge your magic to my service?”
Harry looked up and nodded. “Nothing else in my life ever made any sense before. I belong to you, Baba Yaga. My life and my magic are yours to command.”
Grinning over his words, Carol touched the pen to each shoulder. She chanted the pledge that would bind their energy. When the ritual was done, she felt lighter, freer, and happier.
Happy was something she hadn’t been able to feel in a very long time.
“Rise and take your place at my side, Harry,” Carol ordered.
Harry stood and did as she asked. He sighed and then smiled. “I feel reborn with purpose. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?”
Carol shrugged. “I’m winging it here, but I feel pretty good as well. Let’s go with that.”
Harry nodded. “I really like your style, Great One. And your fashion sense is remarkable. That pink tulle underskirt looks awesome on you—very Cindy Lauper in her early days.”
Carol grinned wide. “Thank you. Harry, will fetch me some breakfast?”
“It would be my honor to do so. How about your usual—two poached eggs, some strawberries, and wheat toast lightly buttered.” Harry listed the items and waited for her to confirm.
“There’s a fine line between research and stalking,” Carol said, shaking a finger under his nose.
“Your secrets will always be safe with me.”
Nodding, Carol felt her mouth lift in a smile of confidence. “I believe that.”
“Let me get that breakfast for you…”
“Why do you need another breakfast. You already had pancakes this morning—three helpings,” Ahmed hissed in her ear.
“Maybe I’m still hungry,” Carol said, patting Ahmed’s naked chest.
She saw Harry dip his head to keep from grinning, but he used the movement as a respectful way to take his leave. His grace under pressure contrasted nicely with Ahmed’s fussing. It was one more thing to like about him.
“I’ll return shortly with your… uh… second breakfast. Use the notepad, Great One. You won’t be sorry.”
“I will, Harry. Go tell your great-great-grandgeezer the good news before you come back. Maybe he’ll be nicer to me once he hears I’ve hired you.”
Carol watched as Harry grinned before he poofed away.
“That was very reckless and foolish of you, Carol. Now you’ve tied the man’s life to yours without giving him any real consideration. And he’s from the House of Merlin? I do not believe that is the truth. Nobody from the House of Merlin would ever say they were from the House of Merlin. Merlin was crazy. It’s not just a legend. I met that nutty sorcerer.”
Carol rolled her eyes at Ahmed’s complaining. “The jury is now in—I definitely liked it better when you couldn’t talk.”
“At least be more careful picking the other seven…” Ahmed pleaded.
Carol snorted as she turned her attention back to the crowd of warlocks. There was one other not dressed in a stuffy robe. He was tall, ginger-haired, and had the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen on a male. His eyes met hers through the crowd, and a shock of sexual awareness ran down her spine. Her girly parts woke with a vengeance and did a little dance of excitement. How could a single gaze from a man have such a profound effect on her?
The crowd suddenly followed her gaze and parted to let the red-haired male walk forward until he stood directly in front of her. Looking a little less cocky now that he was up close, Carol fought a smirk as he cleared his throat, trying to speak. The warlock was incredibly tall, dressed in a stupid preppy sweater and a button-up shirt, but he had twinkling eyes that seemed to know all kinds of intimate secrets about her. Once again, she felt a deep sense of familiarity.
“She will not choose you, Warlock,” Ahmed said firmly, stepping between the male and Carol before crossing his arms.
“Move, Djinn Prince. You’re being disrespectful to the Baba Yaga.”
“The Great One does not need you to serve her,” Ahmed said with menace in his tone.
“I didn’t hear the Great One say that. Move aside and let her tell me.”
Carol’s gaze had been forced to take in the fascinating sight of Ahmed’s flexed glutes as she stared at the back of him. She chuckled at the warlock’s rebellious words which took her mind off Ahmed’s delectable backside.
Using her hand, she firmly slid her jealous-acting familiar slash wannabe lover aside. When Ahmed was out of the way, Carol once again looked up into twinkling eyes.
“You always did have a lot of class when it came to dealing with problem people,” the red-haired warlock told her. “I’d have turned your djinn into a snake or something if he hadn’t moved.”
Carol held out a hand to a huffing Ahmed. “Notepad,” she ordered. When he slapped it into her hand, she turned to glare at her soon-to-be-gone familiar. “Don’t make me get mean with you.”
Ahmed glared, crossed his arms, but finally stopped grumbling.
Smiling once again, Carol turned back and held the notepad out in front of her. “State your name, Warlock.”
“I’d rather not,” he said firmly, laughing at his refusal.
“I insist,” Carol said sternly.
“Very well… I am Norman from the House of Millburn.”
“Millburn?” Carol repeated, studying his friendly face. “I have a friend from the House of Millburn.”
“You’re talking about Hildegard, the infamous Shifter Whisper of Assjacket? She’s all people talk about at Millburn family gatherings these days.”
Carol’s eyebrows shot up. Norman knew about Hildy. Who was this guy?
Something nagged at her, and it wasn’t just the way Norman’s possessive gaze kept dropping to her chest. No
r was it the little thrill she got when he discreetly adjusted the front of his pants.
Hiring someone who inspired such intense lust in her would be a terrible idea. Letting him scratch that itch he had created in both of them? That might be a good one.
“Maybe the notepad isn’t working,” Carol suggested, tapping it on top. Magic pulsed under her finger. She turned to the nearest robed guy. “You, tall Warlock with the beard—what’s your name?”
“Marvin of the House of Druiden,” the guy answered with a respectful head bow.
Carol was surprised when the notepad instantly opened to the page where Marvin’s complete family history and all his skills were listed. She read his family bio. She looked up at Marvin. “Go stand under the tree, Marvin. You’re a finalist.”
“Thank you, Great One. I am honored by your choice,” Marvin said with another head bow.
Carol looked back at the ginger-haired guy who was smiling in a way that her want to grind her teeth or throw herself at him. She’d never really had a thing for red heads before, but he looked so yummy. Goddess, though, the grinning idiot reminded her of someone, but who?
She tilted her head to study him further. The answer seemed just out of her reach.
“Norman of the House of Millburn,” Carol repeated, but the notepad still didn’t flip a single page. She narrowed her gaze as it returned to the questionable warlock. “Do you have another name, Norman?”
“Yes. Will you go out with me if I tell you?” he asked.
“No, I will never date anyone chosen for my warlock posse. Never ask me again,” Carol said sternly.
“How can I not when I adore you? Make me an exception, and I will protect you like no other warlock ever could,” he promised in a husky voice.
The sincerity Norman oozed from every pore as he pledged himself made a shiver run down her spine. The man must be weaving some kind of spell. What she was feeling must be some strange kind of magic she’d never felt before.
Harry’s arrival with her second breakfast interrupted her lust-clouded musings about the mysterious Norman. She looked at the tray of food in Harry’s hand and laughed. There was even a small, petite daisy in a vase. He set the tray on a table he conjured.
“Thanks, Harry. That looks wonderful.”
“You’re welcome, Baba Yaga. Anything else you want me to do?”
Norman laughed. He seemed to think Harry bringing her breakfast was funny. Carol glared at Norman until Harry turned and saw him. Her lead warlock suddenly threw himself at the red-haired man for a hug that was returned in kind.
Norman and Harry knew each other? What in seven hells was going on here?
Harry pulled back and smiled. “Fabio, you old horn dog. I can’t believe you actually came here.”
“I came to see Carol about joining her posse. It’s a little too soon to tell her the rest,” Fabio said.
“Fabio?” Carol spat the name, looking him up and down with disgust.
Hildy’s wicked brother looked all grown up now, but evidently, he hadn’t changed a single bit in the decade since she saw him.
“I should have known it was you. You have a lot of nerve showing up here—Fabio of the House of Millburn.”
Harry’s magical notepad dangling in her hand suddenly opened with a flourish. Carol lifted it and began to skim the information on Fabio.
“Thrown out of three universities for philandering. Demerits for healing outside of healing class. Special dispensation for saving lives even though he was not supposed to be wielding advanced magic.” Carol closed the notepad. “That’s all the information I needed. Go away, Fabio.”
Fabio grinned and shook his head. “Don’t ask me to leave you, Carol. You’re my… you’re my…” He paused and gave her a pleading look. “Can we talk privately about this?”
“No,” Carol said flatly.
“Do you want me to get rid of him for you?” Ahmed asked. “I would love to get rid of him.”
Harry looked between his new boss and his friend. “How do you know the Baba Yaga so well? You didn’t say you knew her personally.”
Fabio chuckled. “Carol and I went to school together. She was a lot older. The moment I met her, I was smitten. I was devastated when she wanted nothing to do with me.”
“How could any female take you seriously? You chased everything in a skirt,” Carol added, fisting a hand on one hip. She looked at Harry. “Not that I cared, but his skirt-chasing completely embarrassed his sister. Hildy of Millburn is my best friend in the world.”
“Yes, alright, I chased lots of girls,” Fabio admitted. “But I didn’t catch as many as everyone seemed to think I did.”
“Bullshit,” Harry said, coughing into his fist.
“Not helping,” Fabio muttered while glaring at Harry.
Harry lifted his shoulders. “As the Baba Yaga’s head warlock, my loyalty to her trumps my loyalty to you. Sorry, Fabio. You don’t deserve her.”
“Morgana the Red thinks I do. She’s the one who sent me here,” Fabio claimed, grinning at everyone’s surprise.
Carol started to call him a liar, but there was something in his eyes—some determination she didn’t remember Fabio ever having when he was younger.
Ahmed pushed forward to scowl at a grinning Fabio. “Want me to take the impostor to the ends of the earth and drop him into a sandpit?”
Carol narrowed her gaze, and a sent Fabio a dirty look. “Even the ends of the earth wouldn’t be far enough away.”
When Fabio laughed at her sarcastic reply, Carol turned and handed the notepad back to Harry. “Pick your ten top contenders. Marvin under the tree over there is already one. If you pick Fabio, I swear I will turn both of you into toads. Are we clear?”
“Completely clear,” Harry promised, looking between his friend and his witch protectress. “Unfortunately, I do need to tell you something important, Great One. May I speak with you privately for just a moment? There are too many ears here.”
Fabio chuckled. “Put in a good word for me, Harry, or I’ll tell your mother where you are.”
“Zip your lips or I’ll put duct tape over your mouth,” Harry ordered with a grin, lifting a finger in warning.
Carol grunted. Their friendship made her nervous, but she couldn’t challenge it openly. “Duct tape. Now why didn’t I think of that?”
Harry chuckled nervously and put a hand on the Baba Yaga’s shoulder to transport them away before she could deny his request.
6
Curious more than she was concerned about Harry spiriting her away from the confrontation with Fabio, Carol looked around at the beautiful area they were in. “This is nice. It looks like the garden my friend Hildy built for me. Where are we, Harry?”
Harry took off his hat and rolled it down his arm to dangle from his fingertips. “This is Merlin’s Grotto. Only my family knows about it. This is the one place I’d be willing to die if you don’t like what I’m about to tell you.”
Snorting at his bad joke, Carol walked over and slumped down onto a wrought iron bench. “I can’t believe I didn’t know he was freaking Fabio. Goddess, I was even having lusty thoughts about him. He’s so…”
“He does seem to have a way with females. Sometimes he uses that talent a bit to excess, but…”
Harry swiped at his hair. Carol laughed because she could tell he was nervous.
“Stop stalling, Harrison. His sister really is my best friend on earth. Fabio’s my nemesis. Nothing you have to say will surprise me.”
Harry lifted his bowler to eye level and chanted until it disappeared. Then he turned to his new boss. “I love this job. I feel completely alive for the first time in over sixty years. I hope you don’t kill me or fire me because that would totally screw up this otherwise perfect situation.”
Carol grabbed the bench with both hands and laughed. “Look, Harry. My hands are gripping the iron. No magic will leave them. So spit it out. I expect you always to tell me the truth, no matter how bad it is.”
&n
bsp; Harry nodded. “Okay. Here it is—this is the truth.” He swallowed and blew out a breath. “There’s an energy connection between you and Fabio. Seeing such things is one of my lesser known talents. It often makes people highly uncomfortable, so I tend not to reveal it.”
Laughing, Carol shrugged. “That’s no big surprise to me. Hating someone passionately creates the same kind of connection as loving them does. I’ve been working all my life on reducing my feelings for Fabio to apathy. Not seeing him for so long helped. I didn’t even recognize him.”
“You probably didn’t recognize him because he’s been systematically turning himself into a man you might want to…” Harry paused and laughed. “Goddess, don’t make me say this.”
“What?”
“Fabio is your soul mate, Great One. He’s been appointed and approved by Morgana the Red. The goddess told him to clean up his act before he saw you again. I don’t think she knew it was going to take him so long. And when he told me about the woman he loved, he didn’t say she was the Baba Yaga.”
Carol lifted both hands to her blonde hair and yanked. “I don’t get it. Are you saying Morgana actually wants me to let that sleazebag into my life?”
Harry hung his head and nodded. “Yes. Sorry.”
“Is that why you came to me? Fabio sent you?”
Harry’s head snapped up. “No—Goddess, no. I swear I came on my own. Well, I came because I’m a big fan of yours. And my great-great-grandgeezer sent me—he loves that title, by the way. He said the Baba Yaga needed someone powerful in her life who’d have her back. I swear I intend to be that warlock for the rest of my unnaturally long life. I put him in the notepad, but I never expected him to show up. He’s not one to accept authority well.”
“Guess that hasn’t changed either.”
Harry chuckled. “He’s a good man, but I meant it about him not being worthy. He’s going to need a couple more decades to get his shit straight.”
Carol sighed. “More like a couple of lifetimes. But Fabio’s your friend?”
Harry nodded. “Yes. He will always be my friend. Fabio found a rare cure with his studies that saved my mother’s life. Of course, he also slept with my older sister and snuck out on her the next morning. My father looked for him for months. Fabio’s lucky to be alive.”
Witch's Guide To A Magical Life: Magic and Mayhem Universe (Baba Yaga Adventures) Page 4