Seven Pets for Seven Witches

by Annabel Chase

  “What are we doing with them?” Roman said. “They can’t come in.”

  “Sure they can,” I said. “Trixie, can you and Doodles get in my purse?”

  She nodded. “Sure can.”

  Both creatures climbed into my bag. I layered a scarf over Doodles so that only his dark eyes peeked out.

  “Okay, no one’s going to poop in there, right?” I said.

  Trixie sniffed. “I beg your pardon, sugar, but I am trained. So is Doodles.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Great. Perfect.”

  Roman flashed me a look. “It’s your funeral.”

  I scowled. “I don’t even know what that means. That’s not relevant here.”

  He shrugged. “I’m just saying watch your lipstick.”

  Better to be safe than sorry. I poked and prodded my bag until I found my lipstick. I flipped down the vanity mirror, making sure all my hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. Every dark strand was. I smeared a line of pink gloss over my mouth, smacked my lips and was ready.

  “Okay, you two,” I said, “stay hidden. I’ll sneak you food.”

  “You got it, sugar,” Trixie said.

  We climbed out of the car. It was warm for January. I wore a couple layers that ended with a high-fashion heather-gray sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder.

  Roman opened the door for me. The swoosh of electric heat made my skin prickle. We found a booth and slid in. I sat my purse beside me. After ordering a couple of burgers and shakes, we waited.

  Roman scrubbed a palm down his face. “So are you going to tell me about your visitors?”

  “Yes, someone keeps stealing her wedding dresses, so I’m making her one.”

  He drummed his fingers on the table. “Probably a pack rat.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement. “But not impossible.”

  I stifled a grin. Roman gave me a lopsided smile. The kind where you know the guy sitting across the table is in love with you. You know, the sort of look that makes your heart swell and your palms get all sweaty.

  At least, my palms get sweaty.

  Our food arrived, and I sliced my burger in half and fed some of it into my purse. Both crow and rat were doing good until I heard some sort of shuffling. I peeked inside to see Doodles trying to snatch a crumb from Trixie.

  She yanked at the burger. “Don’t take my food.”

  The crow tweezed the meat into his beak. Trixie pulled on the bite. At the same time, Doodles released her. The rat sailed into the air, over the table and landed flat on the floor.

  A lady with white curls and a lime-green sweater set blinked at the linoleum. She stared for half a second before screaming, “Rat! There’s a rat!”

  I swear, what happened next was like watching a cartoon.

  Trixie scampered toward the booth as a little old man shot out from the back of the shop and banged a broom on the floor.

  Trixie padded left. The broom fell. She dodged right. It landed again. The snapping sound of plastic hitting linoleum had all necks craned toward the action.

  Finally the rat streaked across the floor and squeezed out the front door.

  “Time to go,” I said.

  Roman glanced at his half-finished plate. “What I do for love.”

  Gus’s emptied faster than Krispy Kreme runs out of doughnuts when the HOT NOW sign is lit up. Trust me, that’s fast.

  “Well, at least you got rid of her,” Roman said.

  “Aw,” I replied. “She’s just a little rat.”

  “You don’t like rodents,” he said.

  “That’s not true. You’re the one who’s afraid of her,” I said. “You couldn’t even move when she sat on your shoulder.”

  Roman smirked. “You’re imagining things.” He opened my door and pecked me on the cheek. “It’s okay. I still love you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”

  As I slid onto the seat, a tiny voice popped up. “Don’t sit on me. You’ve got a big butt, you know.”

  I jerked up and bumped my head on the lip of the doorframe. “Ouch,” I said, rubbing at the knot that was going to form. “What the heck?”

  Trixie jumped onto the console. “I got in when he opened the door. I’m not trying to get murdered, you know, only trying to get a wedding dress made.”

  “You sure about that?” I said, gritting my teeth.

  “No, silly, I have a wedding in a couple of hours.”

  I stopped. “A couple of hours? I thought you were getting married tomorrow?”

  Trixie shook her head. “You know, I’m not all that great with time. It’s a human concept more than it is an animal one. We rats don’t wear watches, in case you haven’t noticed. Nope. I’m getting married tonight, so let’s get back to your house so you can make me a dress that will shock the audience to death!”

  I smacked my head. Oh boy, did I have my work cut out for me.

  Chapter 3

  I took Trixie’s measurements and got to work.

  The rat brushed her paws over her face. “Can I watch?”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  We were in my bedroom. Trixie sat on my bed. A sample of eye shadow colors were opened in front of her.

  “I think this blue one would look great on my cheeks. And that yellow would look good on my sides. Don’t you think?”

  “Not where that goes,” I murmured.

  Not that it mattered. I mean, she was a rat and apparently my familiar.

  “Okay, I’m about to work my magic.”

  Trixie sat up. “If you work your magic through me, it’ll be smoother.”

  I cocked a brow. “What?”

  She nodded. “I’m not sure how it works, but that’s true.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “I’m not sure how it works either, but I’ll try.”

  Everything I needed lay on a table. White satin, lace, and crystal beads. I’d learned several months ago that the fastest way to make dresses was with magic, and it was something I loved to do.

  I lifted my hands to start orchestrating. Magic fluttered from my fingers. Instead of flowing to the scissors, like I had planned, the trickle of power streamed into Trixie.

  The rat glowed with magic. Trixie blinked toward the scissors. They rose into the air and started cutting.

  The transition happened quickly, effortlessly. In fact, it was almost as if Trixie could read my mind. As soon as I glanced at the needle, thread wove itself into the eye. I didn’t have to motion for the spool the way I normally would have. It magically performed the task I thought.

  Wow. This familiar stuff was kinda cool.

  I only needed the tiniest blip of a thought and the task started performing. This was very different than my usual work. Normally I had to orchestrate everything. Which I loved, don’t get me wrong.

  But having Trixie around made my power seem like magical telekinesis on steroids.

  It was so cool!

  We finished the dress in about five minutes.

  “It’s beautiful, sugar,” Trixie said. “I can’t wait to try it on.”

  The gown floated over to Trixie. She slipped her arms through it. It fit her like a glove. I zipped up the back and raised a little handheld mirror for her.

  The rat twirled around. “It’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to get married in it. Now all I need are my prized pearls. My mother’s bringing them for me to wear.”

  I smiled. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride.”

  What was I saying? A rat about to be a bride? I must’ve been kidding myself.

  “What are you going to wear?” she said to me.

  “Oh, um. I’m sure I’ve got a velvet dress around here somewhere. You know, in case it’s a bit chilly outside.”

  Trixie shook her head. “No, sugar. You need a dress exactly like mine.”

  I blinked. “A wedding dress?”

  “That’s right. That way we can match.”

  I laughed nervously. I d
on’t know why; it was only a rat, not a real person. “Oh, well, usually on a girl’s wedding day, she’s the only one who dresses like a bride.”

  Trixie fisted her little paws on her hips. “Are you refusing to grant a bride a wish on her wedding day?”

  “Um…”

  “Because I don’t think you’re supposed to do that.” Trixie poked her paw at me. “As soon as you solve my problem and stop someone from stealing my dress, I’ll get out of your hair. You’ll never see me again. And as much as that makes me sad, I’ll be okay. But just for one day, all I’m asking is that you dress like me. On my wedding day.”

  I sighed. There really was no way out of this.

  “Okay, looks like I’m making one full-size wedding dress.”

  I gritted my teeth as I started to sew.

  About an hour later and matching Trixie in style if not attitude, we emerged from my room.

  “What time is everyone coming?” I said.

  And by everyone, I meant a horde of rats. At least, that’s what I imagined would happen.

  A scream pierced the quiet in the house.

  I clicked my tongue. “Let me guess—right about now.”

  I led Trixie into the living room. My sister Seraphina, Sera for short, stood on a dining room chair. She swatted a rolled-up newspaper at the floor.

  “Get out of here,” she screamed.

  I glanced down. A steady stream of rats were taking over my house.

  My grandmother’s bodyguard, Nan, flew into the room. Yes, my grandmother has a bodyguard. No, you don’t want to know the story right now. It’s long and boring.

  Anyway, Nan, a sixty-year-old woman who I’m pretty sure woke up every morning and sharpened her broadsword, swept in jabbing a kitchen spatula toward the floor. “What’s all the commotion? What’s going on? Let me at whatever it is. I’ll send it into next week!”

  I darted between Nan and the river of rats. “It’s okay. It’s fine. Sorry! We’re having a rat wedding.”

  Nan scratched her silvery curls. “Are you marrying a rat, Dylan? That seems a little out of character.”

  Before I could answer, Sera intervened. “Dylan marry a rat? That’s probably the most normal thing Dylan’s done since she became a witch.”

  I narrowed my eyes to slitty wedges of death. “That’s not nice.”

  Sera frowned. “I know. Sorry. I’m stressed from all these rats running around. They’re freaking me out.”

  I plastered on a rigid smile. “Sera, we have to be nice to our guests. They’re having a wedding in a few minutes. We must promote love and harmony.”

  “How about some gin and tonic instead?” Sera joked.

  “They’re not going to run up your leg or anything. You can come down.”

  She pushed the curtain of glossy hair away from her piercing blue eyes and said, “Are you sure?”

  “I promise.”

  “I promise, too,” Trixie said. “They only run up people’s legs if they’re going to kiss you or bite you. And sugar, you barely look good enough to bite.”

  Sera blanched.

  I grabbed my sister’s arm. “She’s kidding. No one’s going to do either one to you. Come on down.”

  “If they do, I’ll splat ‘em,” Nan said. She karate chopped the air. “These two hands are lethal weapons, ready to kill at any moment.”

  “Thank you for that,” I mused. “But we’ll be okay. However, Nan, if you could help corral the rats, that would be great.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  I clapped my hands together. “Great! Let’s start moving the guests into the living room.”

  After Sera came down, Trixie said, “So? What are we having for the reception?”

  I frowned. “Reception?”

  The rat threw up her hands. “You mean we’re not having a reception? How could we not be having a reception? Every wedding has one.”

  I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “Well, since I just found out that we’re having the wedding today, I didn’t exactly have time to plan a reception.”

  She folded her arms. “I’ve got to have a reception. It’s not a wedding without one.”

  Sera placed a hand on my shoulder. “Never let it be said that I wanted an upset rat in my house. I’ll whip up a quick spread. I may even have time to make a cake.”

  Trixie jumped in glee. “That would be wonderful. Thank you! Now, I’ve got to go find Roger. You have to meet him.”

  “Um, isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?”

  “Oh, silly, I don’t follow traditions like that. That’s just plain dumb. Besides, Roger and I already have three litters of rats together.”

  I rolled my eyes. And the rat still needed a wedding dress. Go figure.

  Trixie scampered off as a flood of rats took up reign in the house.

  Sera cocked her head. “Do you want to explain how you got roped into this? And wearing a wedding dress?”

  I shrugged. “It involves Grandma.”

  She raised her hand, flashing me her palm. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” She sighed. “Let me go bake a wedding cake.”

  She shuffled off to the kitchen. Trixie ran back up. She wore the pearls, so I guessed she’d found her mother. Also, Trixie dragged a rat behind her. He had thick, gray fur and wore a little jacket.

  “This is Roger. Roger, meet Dylan. She’s the witch I was telling you about.”

  I stuck out my finger. Roger shook it with his little paw.

  “Do any others talk, or just you?” I said to Trixie.

  “Y’all can only understand me because I’m connected to you. You can’t understand any of the other rats, but I can tell by the look on Roger’s face that he’s happy to meet you.”

  “Great. So. When do you want to start the wedding?”

  Grandma fluttered into the room waiving her hands. “Dylan, you look radiant. Like every bride should. I didn’t realize this was a double wedding. Don’t tell me you’ve decided to marry one of these rats. But if you have, my dear, I’ll support any decision you make.”

  I frowned. “Grandma, I’m not marrying a rat. Trixie wanted me to dress like this for her wedding.”

  A neck tremor took control of Grandma’s head. It wavered until she got control of it. “I guess whatever floats your buoy.”

  “Yep, whatever floats it. Okay, so how’s this going to work?”

  Grandma shoved up her sleeves. “I’m going to lead the proceedings.”

  I eyed the barrage of rats. Watched as they climbed the furniture, nibbled on the walls, groomed themselves. My stomach twisted with queasiness.

  “Great. The sooner the better. We’re going to have a lot of disinfecting to do,” I murmured.

  “Everyone,” Grandma said, “let us convene in the backyard.”

  “It’s going to be chilly out there,” I said.

  “Put on a coat,” Grandma replied.

  She looked like the freakin’ Pied Piper of Hamlin as she led the army of rats through the kitchen and out the back door. The doorbell rang as I was about to follow.

  “Now, who could that be?” I muttered.

  I crossed to the door and threw it open. On the other side stood two men. One was Roman; the other was Jonathan Pearbottom, inspector for the witch police.

  I suddenly realized I was standing in front of my boyfriend wearing a wedding dress. The urge to hide under a chair or, better yet, jump off a cliff overcame me.

  “Dylan,” Pearbottom hissed. “I received a call there might be a magical theft occurring at this location today.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  Jonathan Pearbottom was nothing if not eccentric. He always wore a bowler hat and a tweed cape. Plus, his hooked nose made him look sinister.

  He cleared his throat. “As I said, we received a tip.”

  “Well, I’ll give you a tip. If you leave now, you won’t be disgusted by what’s in the backyard.”

  Pearbottom and I had a t
enuous relationship—he didn’t like me and I didn’t like him. For some reason he had a penchant for finding out if I’d done something I wasn’t supposed to, like work magic in front of regular people—a big no-no in my world.

  He gave me a tight, thin smile. “Then let me just see what’s going on back there,” he said, sliding past me.

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I called out after him.

  That left me standing alone.

  With Roman.

  While wearing a wedding dress.

  “So, I guess you think I’m getting my Halloween costume on early—like a year early.”

  Roman shook his head. “No, I figured you’d decided to elope with one of your rat friends.”

  “Very funny,” I said. “You’d be upset if I really did, though, right?”

  Roman crossed the threshold, wrapped one arm around my waist and brushed his lips against mine. “Darlin’, I’d be wrecked.”

  “Hmm. Wrecked. I like that.” I shook my head. “I mean, I wouldn’t like it if that happened to you, but I like that you said that.” I melted into his arms in a dreamy sort of way and almost forgot that a country of rats were waiting for me.

  “What are you doing here, Roman?”

  He released me. “I got a call that a rat needs a best man.”

  I laughed. “Well, I’m the maid of honor, so I guess we can go in together.”

  “Oh, so that’s a deranged maid of honor dress you’re wearing.”

  I scoffed. “She wanted me to wear it. Not sure why.”

  “Didn’t you say someone’s been stealing her wedding dresses?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  He chuckled. “She probably wanted you to wear it so that it wouldn’t be hers that got stolen this time—it would be yours.”

  I cocked a brow. “You think?”

  He nodded. “Guarantee it.” He offered his arm, and I curled my hand over the bend of his elbow. “Come on. Let’s go watch a rat wedding.”

  We drifted outside and took our positions framing the bride and groom just as Grandma was getting started.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered her today to witness the joining of two rats.”

  I won’t bore you with the hairy details, but let’s just say the combining of two rat families wasn’t much different than the joining of two human ones.