by S. E. Babin
I cut her off. "Sarah. Are you fucking with me?"
She blinked her big blue eyes rapidly. No amusement was on her face. Whatsoever.
"Why would I do that? It took me weeks to get this appointment!"
"So this is a serious request?"
She nodded.
"Why isn't he here asking for this?"
She clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. "Because he wants to see how much I love him. If I can give this to him, he will marry me."
I sat back in the chair, studied her, and sighed. "This is insane, you know that, right?"
She shook her head vehemently. "He loves me. He does. This is just a test for me to prove my loyalty."
I let my eyes go softly out of focus as I looked at her. A soft green aura surrounded her and a thread lifted from the top of her head to the outside of my office. Shit.
"Is the man you love human, Sarah?"
Her brow knit in confusion. "Of course he is."
No. No he wasn't. Not even a little bit.
I hated incubi. They were a serious pain in my ass. Probably once a year I had some besotted female in here with a weird ass sexual request. Nine times out of ten it was due to the influence of an incubus. I held up a finger. "Just a moment."
I got my cell phone out and contacted Sherry, one of the Comey sisters. She was one of the few powerful enough to break the bond of an incubus after it had gotten its hooks into someone. She answered on the second ring.
"Katie. Incubus problem?" she barked into the phone. I only called her for the magical issues I couldn't handle.
"Yep," I said.
"Be right there." Sherry clicked off the line.
I wasn't sure how she did it, but all of the sisters were able to travel instantaneously. I heard her high heels clicking outside the door in less than a minute. She knocked twice in rapid succession and pushed open the door.
Confusion lit over Sarah's face as she turned around to see who had interrupted her session, quickly followed by fear.
Sherry Comey looked like the love child of Russell Brand and Madonna. Tattooed and dressed in enough leather to make you feel sorry for the cows, Sarah was larger than life. Power beat from her aura, taking most of the oxygen out of the room. We weren't exactly friends. I wasn't sure any of the Comey sisters had friends, but we were close. Sherry was a bit of an enforcer in the town. She beat back dark and manipulative magic wherever she found it and charged an enormous amount of money to do it. But she had a thing against incubi. She handled those for me for free.
Sherry sat down beside Sarah, looked her over for a second and tsked. "He's had his hooks in you awhile, dearie. At least six months." She peered closer at the shrinking blonde woman. "No. Closer to a year. How long have you been dating him?"
Sarah sat up straighter. "This is outrageous! What is this all about?"
"An incubi. Let me guess. You started dreaming about this man before you ever met him, right?"
Sarah blinked and swallowed hard.
"Uh huh," Sherry said. "Then you thought it was fate for you to find him on that shitty app. When you met him you thought he was the most beautiful thing on the planet and you threw away all your morals and slept with him on the first date?"
Color dampened Sarah's cheeks.
"The sex was incredible, but he left you before you woke up in the morning. He didn't call. You chased him and he threw little morsels out for you, meeting up for sex, no real emotional involvement on his part, but saying all the right things?"
Tears were beginning to slip down her cheeks.
"Sherry," I warned.
She continued. "And now he wants to marry you provided you do this one little thing -"
"Sherry!"
She cut off her monologue and glared at me. I cleared my throat. "I think that's quite enough. Can you please explain to Sarah what happened and how we can fix it?"
Sarah turned her watery gaze to me. "So you aren't going to grant this wish?" Her lower lip wobbled. "Why not? I can't get married."
Sarah waved her hand, freezing Sarah into place. "It's been too long. She won't listen if we try to explain this. In fact, she'll run and this jerk will get away with it because we won't be able to find him again."
I hated this, but I nodded. "Okay."
Sherry's eyes began to glow deep purple and as they did, the magic surrounding Sarah became visible. With a whispered word, the magic began to pull toward the witch. She grasped it in her left hand, twisted and a loud screech burst through the room as she severed the cord between Sarah and her demon almost fiance. The woman slumped to the floor.
I gasped in alarm, but Sherry shook her head. "Give her a little while. She'll wake up in need of some orange juice and food." Her lips twisted in a bitter smile. "Probably a therapist, too."
I snort laughed. Sherry was a real piece of work. "Thank you."
She shrugged and stood, tugging down her leather skirt. "My pleasure." A vicious grin split her face. "Now I'm on my way to track down the SOB who did this to her. He should be writhing on the floor in pain for awhile. Plenty of time for me to get to him."
I gave her a little salute. "Good luck."
Sherry winked. "Luck has nothing to do with it." She disappeared in a puff of smoke.
I thunked my head down on my desk. This was my first client of the day. How much worse could the day get?
Sarah began to stir and almost immediately began to sob.
I let out a deep sigh and got out from behind my desk to help her up.
So much worse.
6
I had to switch around the next two appointments to follow Sarah because she was a hot, blubbering mess after the magic severed her bond. I was in no way equipped to be her therapist considering my own long and sordid history of screwed up relationships, but I was able to talk and commiserate with her long enough for her to dry her tears and finally make her way out of my office.
By the end of the day I hadn't granted a single wish, but I had made quite a bit of money. That was the thing about my contracts. You had to pay half of the fee upfront no matter if I granted your wish or not. The fee was nonrefundable. Thank goodness because I refused to grant a lot more wishes than I actually granted.
Martin's truck was still in my driveway. I glanced at the dash clock surprised to see it was past six o'clock. I pushed into my house, feet dragging, and the sound of Etta James and power tools hit me. A smile reached my mouth at the soulful yet jarring sounds in my house. I slid off my shoes.
"Hello?"
No one answered me, but a hammer was strangely keeping time with the music. I rounded the corner only to gasp in surprise as I saw Martin and his very, very nice derriere leaning over my counter top, hammering something into the side. My palms grew sweaty and something I hadn't felt in a long time spooled into my stomach. Desire.
His blue t-shirt rode up his back, exposing powerful lean muscles. His blue jeans cupped a pretty nice back view and the rips in the calf area showed Martin was just as golden on his face as he was the rest of his body.
The sound of a throat clearing jerked me back to the present. A young, handsome man stood to the right of me, holding a power drill and wearing an amused smirk.
I quickly blinked the look of lust off my face. "Sorry," I rasped. "I was just surprised to see you still here." The hammering died down and Martin stood up looking at the two of us, a nonplussed expression on his face.
"Surprised?" the other man said. "Huh. Seemed like something different to me." He winked and reached down to put the drill away.
Color bloomed in my cheeks. Martin gave me a weird look but shook his head and went back to working on my lower cabinets. Before he started hammering again, he looked up at me. "I wanted to finish this up before I left. We'll be out of your hair in less than an hour."
Wordlessly, I nodded and spun on my heel and headed for my bedroom.
Once the door was shut, I let out a hysterical laugh and a groan right after. Martin Roma was sm
oking hot. I knew he was very good looking. I was not blind. Or maybe I had been for the last several weeks thanks to stupid Jeff. The absolute last thing I needed right now was another man in my life. I could not handle getting left at the altar again.
Someone who didn't want anything in return might be fun, but I had never been the kind of person who could do something with no strings attached. I was the kind of person who let feelings get involved and then screwed it all up. On the flip side, I was also the person who apparently jumped into marriage only to get crushed when, once again, I was left standing by the preacher with my groom nowhere in sight.
I couldn't even think about the amount of money I'd spent on dresses, hair and makeup because I would probably throw up.
I let out a sigh and quickly changed my clothes into something decent but not too revealing since there were still contractors here. I threw my long hair up in a ponytail, smoothed down my t-shirt and stepped back out to see Martin and the other guy packing up for the night.
I steadied my voice. "Can I use the kitchen tonight?"
Martin's dark glance went over to the cabinets he'd just worked on. "It's pretty dirty in there." He glanced at my feet and frowned. "I'd put some shoes on. We're careful to pick stuff up but you never know when we may have missed a nail or screw. Better safe than sorry. If you have leftovers, I'd eat those before trying to get in there and make anything. Or better yet, go out to eat. We should hopefully be finished with the kitchen within the next week. I'll have to turn off the gas and water tomorrow, though, so if you need any jugs filled you may want to do that tonight. Or better yet, stay somewhere else tomorrow night. I should have it back on the next day."
"Dang. Okay. I'll have a look in the fridge." I didn't need to look. My fridge looked like a frat house fridge, minus the copious amounts of beer. Some moldy cheese, a bottle of expired milk and some suspicious orange juice was all I could think of. I needed groceries. Bad.
Martin, who seemed to have already looked at the spare offerings in my fridge, smirked. "Maybe go out to eat," he said again with a chuckle as he slung his bag over his shoulder.
I frowned. "One more week?"
He shrugged. "Hoping for less, but yes. We'll start working on your bathrooms next."
"Thanks."
Martin gave me a nod and his helper grinned at me and gave me a little wave. I glared at him, but it didn't stop me from watching Martin Roma walk away from me. Sue me. A nice butt was a nice butt.
I smiled as Martin disappeared outside. I felt a little better after the crap day I'd had. Coming home to someone that handsome in the kitchen showing a little skin could lift any girl's mood.
Several days passed and I was at work flipping through my calendar when I realized the woman who had called me the other day and insisted I slide her in was up next. Intrigued, I sprayed white sage around the room and waited for the knock on the door. The barman was pretty good about showing people in for me.
Right on time, a polite knock sounded. I told her to come in and I blinked in surprise. The woman was short, had curves for days, and wild blonde hair that made her look like she belonged in a rock band.
She walked briskly over to my desk and stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Harper."
My brow furrowed. No one ever shook my hand. It wasn't quite a business transaction, but I reached over and gripped hers. "Likewise. Please have a seat."
The woman sat down, but she was so short her feet dangled off the edge of the chair. "Well, I'd wish for a smaller chair, but then I'd have to make another appointment!" She let out a merry laugh.
I couldn't help it. There was something about her I liked. I chuckled in response. "Sorry about that. You're welcome to use the couch."
She waved a hand. "This is fine. I won't be here too long."
"Oh? So this is an easy one?"
She smiled, her teeth a blinding white. "Very easy." She leaned forward and I reared back as she released her power signature. I gritted my teeth against it.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
"My name is Portia Kadish."
Shit. Shit. Shiiiit. Portia Kadish, the founder of the town and the Deadication Dating Agency was sitting in my office. "My licensing is solid," I said.
She laughed. "That isn't why I'm here."
Fear trickled down my spine. "My business is above board. You can look through all my records."
Portia sighed. "Why is it people automatically assume the worst when I show up?"
I blinked. "Because you never show up? Why wouldn't I think it?" I studied the woman as I came to a realization. "You aren't here for a wish."
"Nope." She tapped elegantly manicured fingers on the edge of my desk. "I'm here to grant you a wish."
"Errrm. There's nothing I want."
At that, Portia rolled her eyes. "Everyone wants something. In your case, you don't know that you want this."
"Is this one of those things where if I ask you for something, you're going to give me what you think I need? Because, if so, it was nice to meet you and no thanks."
Portia studied me, keen interest in her light eyes. "You've been jilted, what, three times now?"
I blew out an annoyed breath. "So?"
"So don't you think something is wrong with that?"
"Of course there's something wrong with that!" I glared at her. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Portia slowly shook her head. "No. But I do think you settle too quickly."
The reason why she was here began to slowly sink in. "No. No, gracious no." I waved my hands around. "I don't want it. Him. Whatever. Please don't do this to me."
Her laugh sounded like bells. "You're a different kind of case, Ms. Harper. So I have to handle this differently." She tapped a finger against her chin. "I admit, this isn't how I want to handle it, but I feel like I have to." She waved a hand and the glamour I'd so carefully constructed this morning fell away. I touched my hand to my cheek and gasped.
"I need that!"
Portia clucked her tongue. "No. You think you need it. There's a big difference."
I tried in vain to reconstruct my glamour.
Portia shook her head, even though her eyes shimmered with sympathy. "For the next few months, you will not be allowed to use glamour magic, Katie. This is about you. What you need versus what you think you need. What you really want versus what you think you want."
"So it is one of those scenarios." I glared at Portia. "How are you so in tune with what I want or what I need?"
Portia smiled sadly. "It's the curse of my position. I know just about everything in this town." She let out a sigh and even that sounded pretty. "The spells you cast to keep your identity a secret have fallen. When you walk out of here, your identity will be known."
Horror filled my veins.
"Katie, do you really think all people are bad?"
I shook my head.
"It's okay to be scared. But it's not okay to hide yourself from the world."
My tone was dead. "People will use me."
Portia shook her head. "People will try to use you. Again, there is a difference. The only person who can force you to use your magic is you."
"Why are you doing this?"
At this question, Portia hesitated which made me very suspicious. "I was already aware of your...plight. I considered getting involved, but I was waiting for the right time. Something made me go ahead with it."
"What?" I demanded.
Portia shook her head. "You have to recognize the worth in yourself. You are strong. You're beautiful. You're powerful." She stood up and leaned over my desk. "But everyone else is those things, too. You need to know what makes you that way because it's different for everyone. Recognize those signs in people. See them for who they truly are. When you do this, when you truly open your eyes, things will fall into place for you."
I scoffed. "Aren't you supposed to drop my soulmate into my lap instead of doing all this weird Fairy Godmother shit?"
Portia gave me a sad smi
le. "Who's to say I haven't already done that?" She headed to the door. "If anyone was in need of weird Fairy Godmother shit, it's you, my dear." Before she opened it, she turned and offered me a feral grin. "I suggest you get a good night's sleep because tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life." And with that, Portia Kadish opened the door and disappeared.
I sat in my office chair with the mirror pulled within inches of my face and desperately tried to recast the glamour, any glamour, but it was to no avail. That particular power was gone and the only person looking back at me with a wild, desperate and terrified expression was just me, Katie Harper, Jilted Bride Extraordinaire.
I cursed like a sailor denied shore leave and tried desperately to think of something. "A paper bag!" I gasped and reached down to rifle through my desk drawers. Several seconds in I realized how dumb that was. Like a paper bag on my head would draw less suspicion than just walking out.
Maybe I could pretend I was a customer. I sighed. Matt, the main bartender, was the one who let everyone in. He'd be immediately suspicious. I grabbed my calendar, picked up the phone and went to cancel the rest of my day's appointments when I realized everything was already cleared. I frowned and thumbed through to the next day only to see all of them rescheduled and shifted around. Portia had even made it to where I got to come in two hours later on Monday.
"I'm going to murder you," I seethed through my teeth as I shoved the calendar away. I had nothing to keep me busy. Normally I would be ecstatic about that, but walking out of this room would drastically alter the trajectory of my life. I didn't even want to think about it.
I sat there for two hours trying to come up with a plan only to realize that freaking Portia Kadish had effectively cornered me and I was the rat trapped in the maze.
"Shit," I said in defeat. I rose from my desk, slid my sandals back on and cracked open the door to my office. Sound immediately filtered through. Clinking glasses, silverware, laughter, running water. Maybe I could just waltz out and not acknowledge a single person.
I opened the door to step out only to run right into Matt who stood there with his hand raised about to knock on the door. I immediately stepped back and apologized, but when I looked at his face, it was so full of confusion I had to laugh.