Werecats and Werelocks (Collection)

by Dakota Cassidy

  Taking her hand, he placed it on his chest, caressing her fingers. “I know you don't believe me, F, but it's true. These past two weeks with you have been the best I've ever had. There's something between us that even you can't deny."

  Felicity yanked her hand from his grasp and jumped off of his lap. “You know what that something is, honeybunch? My ability to send you back to your lamp, bottle, whatever the hell you came from! You lied to me and you've been lying to me all along. Whatever we have is based on your lies—falsehoods—fab-ric-a-tions! Ya got that? You've been playing me like a Stradivarius so you could save your own hide."

  His voice was quiet as he spoke, “It began like that, F, but it isn't like that now. I know you're angry right now and you feel taken advantage of, but I'm telling you the truth.” His gray-blue eyes held hers with an intense gaze.

  As much as she'd like to believe him, she just couldn't. Besides, genies and witches just didn't mix. She'd have to find a way to zap him back as soon as possible. Like she needed just a little more pressure in light of the fact that tomorrow was her big exam in her quest for that damn broom. “The only truth is that you don't want to go back to your bottle and the very second I figure out just how to do it—you're gone!"

  Christian's jaw tilted upward in a hard line. Between clenched teeth he said, “You'll regret this, F."

  Felicity stared him down, trying to read his eyes, but she couldn't see past his lying to her. Whirling away from him, she left him sitting on the couch and stomped off to her bedroom, slamming the door with a loud bang.

  Tears stung her eyes and it wasn't just because she was furious with Christian. It was because she'd almost begun to believe he might really want her, even if he didn't have a lot of choice in the matter.

  It was because she had to send him back and the idea of waking up and not having Christian to share with seemed kinda bleak.

  Clearly, she needed to have her head examined.

  Damn him.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eight

  Christian paced the bare floor of Felicity's cottage. She'd sailed out this morning without a word, stomping her way through her morning chores and leaving him with frigid stares in her wake.

  Today was her big day and he'd hoped to see it in person, but her silence meant she didn't want to be tangled with. It was deafening and meant business.

  Running a hand over his head, Christian sighed long and loud.

  This was a dilemma that had taken on epic proportions. He'd known from the start he couldn't keep up the charade, but he'd planned to wait until F had her broom before he told her the absolute truth. Not just because he didn't want to go back to his bottle, but because he wanted her focused. He wanted her to succeed because it was important to her.

  Fuck Divinity for showing up and making his life miserable. More miserable than he'd been when he was married to Fatima.

  He wanted Felicity. That she'd released him from the bottle didn't matter anymore. He wanted to spend an eternity helping her learn spells she fudged because whatever wires were crossed in her witch gene pool didn't work. He wanted to spend an eternity making love to her, laughing with her, taking her on magic carpet rides.

  Convincing her that was the truth wasn't going to happen overnight.

  After Divinity, it might never happen.

  He just couldn't let Divinity fuck this up. In fact, he wouldn't let her.

  Now, he just had to figure out how to do it. He knew Divinity well enough to know she wasn't so far gone that she wouldn't be back. Divinity was right. By Djinn law, Christian was hers through the death of Fatima, but the snag in Divinity's well-woven blanket of bullshit was Felicity and the spell that had broken Fatima's curse.

  It had to mean something. The Djinn were nothing if not fair and he couldn't see them taking what, by some crazy fluke, had become Felicity's. He'd go to the Djinn if he had to. Even if it meant Felicity couldn't keep him, he'd rather have his skin peeled off than end up with Divinity. Hell, he'd go back to his bottle first.

  Damn greedy bitch.

  Christian couldn't help but wonder where F had ended up sending her. He was also wondering just how she'd come up with the power to summon up such a grand feat without her magic wand.

  Something just wasn't right about how on and off her spells turned. It wasn't just that she was dyslexic. That sure as hell hadn't mattered when she'd whacked Divinity. Felicity had been angry, furious even and that had to play a role in how her magic worked. Christian just needed to figure out what and why and maybe together, they could tap into the emotion and make it work for them.

  Them.

  That was the key word here. Christian no longer thought in terms of just him. He thought about them. He and Felicity as a couple.

  Felicity was his. Period. He didn't give a shit how Neanderthal he was coming off. He was keeping her whether she liked it or not.

  Determined, he flopped on the couch and began to think about just how he was going to convince Felicity. She wasn't exactly an easy sell. Closing his eyes, he tried to sort through the mess he'd made and find a solution. The worry that he'd ruined any possible chance with Felicity exhausted him and he found his eyes becoming heavy.

  "Oh, boy-toy...” a sultry voice whispered near his ear, just as he felt the clamp of something heavy and cold around his wrist.

  Christian's eyes flew open to find Divinity and one of her henchmen hovering over him. With that followed the draining of any ounce of energy he had left.

  Looking helplessly at his wrist, he saw it then.

  A handcuff.

  Made of lead.

  Near death to a genie.

  Stripping him of any magic.

  Leaving him virtually paralyzed.

  Well, if this wasn't a predicament, then he didn't know what was.

  * * * *

  Felicity blew strands of hair out of her face and put some extra steam in her stride so she wouldn't be late for her exam. Her intestines were in a knot and her heart sat firmly in her throat as she tried to gain control of her scattered thoughts.

  How could she possibly remember the spells she needed to pass and get the almighty broom when all she wanted to do was wallow in her misery?

  The broom was like finding the Holy Grail anyway. Ever elusive to a loser like her who just couldn't seem to get this witch shit right.

  Without Christian coaching her, she was lost. The words he'd taught her, the funny acronyms escaped her now.

  Fucking genie...

  She absolutely had to get this together or her parents would kill her.

  Blowing past the crowd outside of her classroom, Felicity headed for the bathroom where she intended to hurl an elephant if it would relieve her of her intestinal issues.

  Amber caught her just as she was shoving the swinging door open. “Hey, Felicity. How goes the genie banging?"

  Fury rose in a wave of crimson to her cheeks, staining them with heat. “Hey, Amber. A good genie banging beats not banging at all, I'd guess. Of course, you'd be the expert on that, now wouldn't you? The not banging, I mean."

  Amber's face flushed a color that matched Felicity's and she made a face at Felicity. “You cheated with the help of that genie and I intend to prove it, you fraud!"

  Okay, today was not a day to mess with Felicity's ever-waning hold on sanity. “You do that, Amber, and after you do that, why don't you scurry on back to your hole where vermin like you belong,” Felicity said as she stood nose-to-nose with her and spat the words into Amber's pinched face like bullets.

  "At least my hole will have a broom..."

  "Yeah? Good. I hope that broom keeps you warm at night. It looks like that might be your only opportunity for a boyfriend.” Puny assed bitch.

  Amber's eyes flared at Felicity, venomous and full of fire. “You'd better be very careful about what you say to me, you cheater!"

  "You'd better take your hand off of me or I'm going to make you wish your pathetic life was over,” Felicity
threatened, anger roiling in the pit of her belly and washing over her, clouding her vision.

  "Make me,” Amber taunted.

  Whatever simmered just below the surface of Felicity's last thread of sanity boiled over and she snapped. With a crack only she could hear in her brain.

  Just like that.

  Shoving Amber away from her she let the words flow off of her tongue like a waterfall of fury. “I said—take-your-hand-off-of-me!"

  Amber immediately flew backward as though someone had lifted her up and carried her, skidding sideways and landing on the floor in a puddle.

  Oh, shit! As the haze cleared, Felicity realized what she'd done and ran to help Amber up, immediately remorseful.

  "Do not touch me, you crazy bitch."

  "I'm sorry, Amber,” she apologized as she ignored Amber's request and tried to help her again.

  Amber backed away from her, walking her back up the nearest surface and pressing herself against the wall. “You stay away from me, Felicity Speillman! You're crazy. It's because of witches like you that they burned our ancestors at the stake in Salem!” Amber's voice rose, laced with hysteria, shaky as she trembled against the wall.

  How dramatic.

  Felicity decided to take an arrogant approach to Amber. As if she'd planned to do exactly what had happened. No one needed to know she had not a clue on earth how the fuck she'd pulled that off. Stepping in close to Amber, she smiled. “Yeah, that's me. Crazy. Better be very careful, Amber, or I might just decide to let ya see my head spin around. Lay off of me, Amber, or you'll regret it.” Oooh, very, very Clint Eastwood, there, F. Show her who's da man here.

  Amber slid under her arm and scampered down the hall.

  The fight mongers who'd gathered ‘round to see what the fuss was about cackled and Felicity turned to them with what she was sure was a maniacal look on her face. “Go to class, you bunch of troublemakers. Stop looking for an excuse to gossip or I'll zap you too!"

  As the crowd dispersed per her threat, Dex came up behind Felicity and said, “Nice show, there, F. I wish I could drink blood the way you can make threats."

  Felicity blew out a breath of pent up anxiety, turning to find Dex smiling at her and Lila planted on his broad shoulder. She fell against him, exhausted by the bolt of energy she'd just displayed. “I don't know what happened, Dex. It just happened."

  Dex put a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Whatever it was, it was pretty fricken’ awesome."

  Felicity began to laugh and then tears spilled out of her eyes onto Dex's crisp shirt.

  "Don't cry, F,” Lila chirped. “You were fabulous."

  "Thanks, Lila,” Felicity hiccupped.

  Lila peered down at Felicity, clinging to Dex's collar as she nudged Felicity's cheek with her toe. “Hey, did you conjure up another supermodel?"

  Felicity's head shot up. “What?"

  "We were at your house just a little while ago. Dex and I figured you could use some moral support for your big exam and we saw a really hot blonde coming out of your cottage."

  "Lila, what blonde? Tell me what she looked like?” Panic rose in her belly and her heart slammed against her ribs.

  "Really tall. Perfect skin. Really blonde. So you think maybe you could make me tall like that? Maybe I could give up the idea of flying and just own the runways."

  "Tall and blonde?” Felicity repeated.

  "Oh, yeah.” Lila nodded. “Very tall, very blonde."

  Divinity...

  The fricken’ genie whore.

  Coming to claim Felicity's genie...

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Nine

  Like the hounds of hell nipped at her heels, Felicity raced to her cottage, forgetting her obligations to take her exam, forgetting everything but finding Christian.

  Throwing open the door, she barreled into her living room to find nothing.

  Nothing but her grandmother, that is. Sitting on Felicity's couch, cake in hand.

  Could this day get any better? Really, if the world ended at this very moment, it couldn't get much worse. “Grandma! What are you doing here?"

  "I came to see my beautiful granddaughter on her big day. What else would I be doing here? I made a nice bundt cake for you, sweetheart. Chocolate is still your favorite, isn't it?"

  "Grandma, thank you, but—I—I can't talk right now. I—"

  "Felicity? Stop stuttering. Tell Grandma what's wrong."

  Oh, suuuure. It's like this, Gram. I conjured me up a genie. He's waaay hot in bed. He has a few flaws, like he tells some whoppers from time-to-time, but other than that, he's a keeper. His name is Christian. He has a magic carpet that we boinked our way through the heavens on, and now, his dead ex-wife's mother wants him and the wishes he has that he said weren't mine because I was his wife! Yeah, that would go over well.

  "I can't right now, Gram. I have to—I have to—do something.” Felicity tried not to look suspicious as she glanced around the room, peeking in the kitchen.

  "Of course you do. You have a broom to get and then you have some explaining to do."

  Felicity stopped dead in her tracks. “Huh?"

  "I said, you have some explaining to do. So, begin by telling me the naked details of the magic carpet and the studly genie."

  Hooo boy. Fucked wasn't a word she'd use lightly here. “Um, magic carpet?"

  "Yes, dear, the magic carpet. Come sit and tell me everything."

  "I'm in big trouble, huh? Are Mom and Dad going to publicly flay me?” Felicity sank to the couch on wobbly legs.

  "No, no. I won't let that happen, but I can reassure you, you'd better have a fine explanation for this, or there'll be no bundt cake for you, young lady."

  "I can't right now, Gram. Can we do this later? Maybe tomorrow? I have to—to—go take my exam..."

  "Your professor will wait. I'll see to that. Now, let's begin by telling me where this genie came from and how on Castoffsphere he became your,” she cleared her throat, “roommate."

  Felicity rose again in agitation. “I can't right now, Grandmother. That genie, er, my roommate, is in big trouble. I have to help him!"

  "How has your witch crafting been going, Felicity?"

  What kind of a question was that? Like the doomed from the start disaster it'd had always been, for crap's sake. Shit on a stick was putting it lightly.

  Her grandmother nodded her graying head. “I thought so."

  "I don't know why I can't get it right, Grandma. I just suck at it."

  "Well, I do. So why don't we have some cake and I'll tell you all about it."

  Only her grandmother would think cake could solve all of her astronomical problems. “Grandma, I can't—"

  "Yes, yes you can. It's the key to finding your genie, sweetheart."

  Felicity gulped.

  Yep, she was headed for a world of shit.

  "Okay, Gram. Let's have some cake..."

  * * * *

  Felicity, armed with her grandmother's information and a wing and a prayer, shook out Christian's magic carpet, laying it in her backyard. According to Christian and a conversation they'd had late one night over a bag of chips and a bottle of wine, his magic carpet was uniquely his. Sorta like a pet. It could find him almost anywhere and he cared for it with the love only a magic carpet owner could.

  "Okay, now listen up. I need you to take me to wherever your owner is. Oh, um, please..."

  The multi colored rug lay unmoving on the grass.

  Felicity stepped onto it and looked down, feeling very whiny, but biting her tongue before speaking to keep the edge out of her tone. “Give a girl a break, huh? If I don't go get your owner, you're going to be someone's welcome mat."

  She felt a faint stirring beneath her sneakered feet. A humming vibration. Or maybe it was just her imagination?

  Kneeling down, Felicity ran her hand over the soft fibers. “C'mon, help me out here, would ya? We don't have a lot of time and if you don't help me find Christian, you could end up at the flea m
arket. Worse, you might make someone a really nice bath mat. God, imagine all of those wet, toe jammed feet stomping on you. Icky, ya know? So let's get this dog and pony show on the road and get some air time."

  It remained motionless.

  Okay, there was not time for pussy footin’ around.

  Felicity sat on the carpet and crossed her legs Indian style. “You know, I've heard Persia is lovely this time of year. I'd bet some Arab sheik would just loooove you. Do they have sheiks in Persia? Or is that like a regional thing and they only have them in Arabia? Well, either way, it would beat ending up with Omar in the marketplace, don't you agree? I'll bet his camel would like a nice comfy place to sleep at night. Oh, but camels spit, don't they? That would be gross. They smell too..."

  Attempting to be patient, Felicity waited for it to respond to her veiled threat and still, nothing.

  Her ever-growing concern over what Divinity was doing to Christian and her fear made her react. She leaned forward on her elbows and grabbed some fringe at the end of the carpet. “Listen, you area rug! Don't make me get out the Hoover and give you a good vacuuming. I will, you know. A deep cleaning too, with the dual action brushes and maybe even a good disinfecting while I'm in a cleaning frenzy. Now, pay attention. Your mentor is in some serious straits and if we don't do something fast that mean old Divinity is going to get to keep him. That means, by proxy, she'll be your mistress too. Oh, wouldn't that be a sweet deal? She'll walk all over you with those stilettos and leave the spike marks in your lovely woven back to prove it. Now, quit ignoring me and move your butt or take the chance on becoming some wall-to-wall carpeting at a factory outlet!"

  It expelled a long sigh, shuddering under her and making her jump up in surprise. “God, you're a noisy dame. I was enjoying a good, much needed nap and I wake up to you yapping in my ear and yanking on my fringe. What's your beef, lady?” The carpet's deep, resonant voice sounded like it was in a tunnel. It bounced off the backyard fence with an echo.

  It talked? The damn thing talked? “You talk?"

  "Yeah, I talk. I'm not just ornamental, you know. So what's the problem?"

  Felicity flopped forward in gratitude and almost cried for the relief of it. “Do you know about Divinity?"