Wanted: Hexed or Alive
A “Sexy Witches” short
CHARITY PARKERSON
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Copyright © 2013 Charity Parkerson
Cover Art Photographers: Dunca Daniel
Fesus Robert
Ryan Jorgensen
Cover Art designed by: Designs by Charity
All rights reserved.
DEDICATION
The Mistress of the Darkpath for her amazing inspiration in the darkest of times.
ABOUT THE STORY:
It is said that the man who controls fate controls the world, but what of the person who controls the man? What is said of them? Rowena the Fate has a problem; a problem of the pirate variety. Following the advice of friends, she’ll seek out the wizard Randall Cruz for help.
As owner of an apothecary, Randall is used to unusual requests, so Rowena’s pirate removal spell doesn’t faze him, but what happens afterwards will leave him in a position he never dreamed possible.
“Wanted: Hexed or Alive” is a short “in between” story from Bestselling Author Charity Parkerson’s “Sexy Witches” series.
WANTED: HEXED OR ALIVE
Thunder rumbled in the distance, warning of the upcoming storm. Randall stared out of the front window of his shop, Cruz Apothecary, watching as his fellow business owners scrambled to haul their sidewalk fare indoors.
In New Orleans, it was impossible to predict the pop-up thunderstorms that accompanied the heat of the summer. Personally, he loved the sounds and smells of such a storm, but then again, as a wizard, he didn’t sell his goods outdoors.
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed closely by a loud pop, almost as if someone had fired a pistol. The street plunged into darkness as the electricity failed against nature’s fury.
With a sigh, Randall lit a few candles and gave up any hope of doing business today. The fire danced above the wax sticks and bounced off the rainbow-colored bottles that lined the shelves, causing a twinkling light display to play upon the walls.
Randall allowed his mind to empty of all thought as he stared at the show. It wasn’t often that he was able to become one with his surroundings.
The bell jingled above the door, pulling him from his meditation, and his breath caught in his throat at the first sight of the beautiful woman.
A soaked, red-haired goddess was dressed in a yellow sundress that fell to her knees. The wet material hugged her every generous curve. She fought to close the umbrella, which had only managed to keep her hair dry and nothing else. With a growl of frustration, she tossed it to the side.
“Bloody thing,” she cursed, glowering at the still open umbrella, and causing him to smile.
Her smooth foreign accent rolled over his skin. He couldn’t place the origin, but he loved it.
“Are you in need of shelter from the rain?”
At his question, she smoothed down the front of her dress as if attempting to remove invisible wrinkles, and only managed to draw his gaze to her hardened nipples. Tearing his eyes away, he made a valiant attempt to look her in the face.
“No, actually, I’m looking for a potion. I’m Rowena, by the way,” she added as she moved to shake his hand.
Randall found himself mesmerized by the way her lips shaped each accented word, and he tugged the lapels of his white lab coat closed with one hand to keep from embarrassing himself as he shook her outstretched hand with the other.
“I’m sorry. What did you say you were looking for?”
Her green eyes flashed with humor at his question as if she knew the effect she was having on him. “You know; a tonic, a brew, a remedy,” she expounded.
“Ah, well,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’ve come to the right place.” He released her hand. “What concoction do you seek?” Randall asked, making his way over the laden shelves. “I have everything from pain relievers to protective spells.”
“Pirate removal,” she answered with a decisive nod.
“You wish to remove a pirate?” Randall asked, sounding like an idiot even to his own ears.
Rowena’s curly hair bounced and her dangling gold earrings moved in time with her head as she nodded. “Um-hmm, that’s what I said.”
“As in Blackbeard, sails unfurling, yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum?” Randall acted out his question with a bent elbow robot dance that ended with him standing like the captain on the front of his favorite brand of rum.
Rowena followed his motions with her eyes as if patiently waiting for his mind to catch up with the situation.
“Exactly,” she agreed. “I’m talking the whole ‘Where has all the rum gone?’, ‘scurvy dogs,’ and ‘argh,’” she said, ending with her finger curved like a hook.
Realizing that he was still standing like he had a little captain in him, he dropped his foot and shrugged. “Sure, I have a spell for that, but you’d need a witch or wizard to perform it for you.”
Randall took pride in his ability to spot another magical creature from a hundred feet away and he knew that this woman was no witch.
“Tell me what I need and let me worry about acquiring a spellcaster.”
Pushing his glasses up his nose, Randall inspected the woman more closely. There was something about her. She wasn’t a witch, but neither was she mortal. It was a puzzle, but he knew he’d figure it out before she left.
“Let’s see,” he said, relenting. “Some acorn oil and Goldenseal for protection and luck,” he mused aloud as he collected the bottles and searched for more. “Monkswood to redirect your enemy and a lemon for cleansing.”
With all the items needed to perform the spell gathered in his arms, he headed toward the register. “Would you like a lime today also, to bring peace of mind?” he asked as he rang up her order.
“No. I have everything that I need right here,” she answered as she rocked back on her heels and glanced curiously around the shop.
“Okay, that’s twenty-three fifty.”
“Oh,” she said, smacking herself on the forehead. Reaching behind her, she pulled out a purse that he knew for a fact had not been there a minute ago. He felt a satisfied smile touch his lips. That little act of magic sent out a mental signature that gave her away and all the puzzle pieces clicked together.
***
Randall only knew of a few people capable of sending a Fate to his door and, fortunately for him, they all lived in the same house. Ella, a local witch who had once worked for him, was now married to a former heavenly guard. When he took up residence with her, Samuel the dark angel had brought along a couple of permanent guests. Now, they could damn well tell him why he was getting otherworldly visitors.
The white-board house seemed cheery despite the graveyard looming behind it. Randall supposed it was the love contained inside the home that could be felt even from the outside. Landing a solid knock on the door, he clasped his hands behind his back and waited.
Even through the solid oak door, he could hear the scuffle taking place on
the other side, and when it swung open wide, Randall was hard-pressed to tell which creature’s wings looked more disheveled from the race to get there first; the angel’s or the pixie’s.
Since the angel, Thomas, was the larger of the two, he blocked a majority of the doorway. However, the pixie, Tam, would not be denied and she changed sizes, becoming a foot tall before landing on the angel’s shoulder.
“Hey, it’s the mad scientist,” Tam cheered when she finally caught a glimpse of him.
“It’s the over-sized bug,” he shot back, but his affection showed in his words, taking the sting from the insult.
Thomas, who seemed less thrilled to see him, crossed his bulging arms over his chest, and used his massive frame to block Randall’s entrance.
“What do you want?” he growled, looking at some point past Randall’s shoulder and refusing to meet his gaze.
“I’m here to see Samuel.”
Instead of stepping aside at Randall’s answer, Thomas held his ground. Tam sat down on Thomas’ shoulder and crossed her legging-encased ankles as if settling in for a long haul.
“Samuel is indisposed,” Thomas began.
“He’s getting busy with Ella,” Tam said, interrupting him and causing Thomas to let out an aggravated sigh.
“You’re not supposed to tell people that,” Thomas admonished.
Popping her hands on her hips, Tam’s brown hair whipped out as she swung her head in Thomas’ direction. “And why not, I ask,” she said on a huff. “If I had someone delighting in my delicious body, then I wouldn’t care who knew. ‘Sides, Randy’s all sciency like. He gets the needs.”
Thomas rubbed the spot between his eyes as if a pain bloomed there, before responding, “It’s private.”
“I hate to interrupt this,” Randall said, cutting in and drawing their attention his way. “But Samuel sent a Fate to my shop.”
“Which one?” Tam asked, but Thomas glanced away.
“Which one what?” Randall asked absently while staring harder at Thomas, who refused to meet his eyes. The dark-haired giant with black wings, which marked him as a warrior in the heavens, seemed more like a guilty child at the moment.
“Which Fate?” Tam expounded. “There’s three of them, now, isn’t there?”
Randall switched his gaze back to the pixie. “Rowena,” he answered, and her green eyes twinkled in humor.
“Samuel wouldn’t have done that,” Tam said with a dismissive wave. “Those two can’t stand each other.”
“I don’t understand,” Randall mused aloud. He’d been so sure.
“Oh, well, he said something about her sneaking away to see some guy who one-hands his cock, making it hard to guard her,” Tam explained, but Thomas cut her off.
“For the love of the Gods, Tam. It wasn’t some guy who one-hands his cock. It was a one-handed guy with a cockney accent, sheesh. Not that it matters anyhow, because Samuel didn’t send Rowena to Randall. I did.”
Whereas Randall had been only slightly more than curious before, now he was beyond suspicious.
“I think it’s time you invite me and tell what the hell is going on,” Randall said through clenched teeth, and Thomas finally relented, stepping aside so Randall could enter.
While Randall settled himself on the couch, Tam sat cross-legged on the coffee table. Her green and white leggings clashed vividly against her bright orange bustier and purple tutu, but she’d always had a style that was all her own. Thomas paced back and forth in front of them and seemed to have a silent argument with himself. Between Tam’s bright outfit and the angel’s pacing, Randall felt his head begin to spin.
“For the love of the Gods, Thomas, just spit it out already,” Tam said after his fifth turn.
He wrung his hands as he spoke. “It is very difficult to get past a millennium of service. I know that Samuel tells me that I am a free angel now, but I kept the Fates’ secrets for a very long time. I do not like parting with them now,” he admitted.
“I don’t want to get you into any trouble,” Randall reassured him. “I only want to make sure that I’m not getting pulled into the middle of something. I’ve worked very hard to be a wizard who keeps his head down, and I’ve catered only to the Wiccan society for many years now.”
Thomas stopped pacing at Randall’s words and held his stare.
“Rowena was seduced by the ghost pirate Red Count and now he’s using her powers to cut the life thread of his enemies.”
Anger twisted in Randall’s gut at Thomas’ confession. Not only was a beautiful woman being exploited by a rogue—something that he hated—but he also knew that it was only a matter of time before he’d find himself stuck in the center of it all. It seemed things were always the same with every gorgeous woman that he met. They were all trouble.
***
Randall dropped down onto the settee in exhaustion. He hated Mardi Gras. It was a great day for business, but he spent so much time answering asinine questions and dealing with so-called wiccans that he was left completely spent. When the bell jingled above the door for the thousandth time, he barely worked up the energy to turn his head.
She was wearing a green tank top and jeans this time and he nearly swallowed his tongue.
“Nice to see you again, Rowena,” he said, and he wanted to chuckle at the look of surprise that crossed her face. She obviously hadn’t expected him to remember her name.
“Hello,” she said, returning his greeting. “I find myself in need of your services once again.” At her words, he felt his energy restored and he jumped to his feet.
“Of course. What can I help you with today?”
She twisted her fingers nervously as she admitted, “I was hoping you could get the things together for me once more for the pirate removal spell. I think one or two of the items might have gone bad by now.”
Crossing the room, he began pulling the items from the shelf. “So, no luck finding a spellcaster, huh?” he asked, switching his gaze between the herbs and her face.
She shrugged. “Actually, I’d intended to ask Ella, but as she is pregnant, I didn’t want to put her baby at risk,” she confessed.
Her admission shocked him to the point that he almost dropped one of the vials, but he refused to show any hint of his surprise. Thankfully, she continued and spared him from responding. “So, I decided to wait until after the baby is born, but my problem has grown worse and I can no longer wait.”
Since his arms were laden with bottles, he pushed his glasses up with his shoulder. “I see,” he said for lack of anything more intelligent. He headed toward the register, and she followed closely at his heels.
“Did you have someone else in his mind?” he asked over his shoulder and he caught a wisp of her smile.
“Oh, yes,” she answered, sounding cheerful. “I know exactly who I’m snagging this time,” she told him as she grabbed the back of his lab coat. With a tiny nod of her head, Randall found himself moving through the realms. The smell of the sea and the taste of saltwater hit him before his vision cleared. Even with those details against him, he still held out hope that it wasn’t true, but when his feet touched the unsteady deck of an Argosy, he knew his worst fears were true. It seemed he was to be the final key in ridding Rowena of her troublesome pirate, he realized as the bright red coat, shiny black shoes, and silvery hook came into his line of vision. At least she had the decency to blush as he turned his accusing eyes her way.
“You could have, at the very least, allowed me to chop this lemon before expecting me to fight a damn pirate,” Randall growled under his breath.
Rowena, along with her sisters Katrina and Selena, were better known as the Three Fates. She would like to think, with all the power she possessed, that she could handle any problem on her own. The pirate Red Count was a problem for which she’d been unprepared.
It sucked that she could see the past, present, and future of almost every living soul except for her own. It was even more unfortunate that “living” was the key word and
she could not see Red Count.
“Avast, me proud beauty!” Red cried.
“Shut the fuck up, Nicholas,” Rowena replied, intentionally using his real name.
Red Count was actually Count Nicholas O’Hare, a voodooist who’d used his magic to gain infamy and to go on long after his death. Unfortunately, it was also the same expertise he’d used to take control of her mind and powers.
Nicholas sneered at the name, but dropped the act. Pacing back and forth in front of them, he clasped his hands, or hand, rather, behind his back.
“The lady Fate,” he remarked. “I have to wonder what brings you to my humble ship on such a fair day.”
Rowena rolled her eyes. Not only was there nothing humble about his ship, the Sea was at its roughest from recent storms. Bracing his feet apart, Nicholas stopped in front of Randall. “And, I see you’ve gotten yourself a new toy,” he added.
“Fate. Toy,” Randall repeated as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and drawing her attention his way.
At six-foot-one, Randall matched Nicholas in height, but the pirate easily had fifty pounds over him. Despite Randall’s thin physique, she could feel the powerful energy rolling from inside of him, and his sleek muscle hinted at his active lifestyle.
The most important thing that Randall possessed was a sharp mind, which was evident in his intelligent blue eyes. The wind flattened his sandy-brown hair, and his face was hard with anger.
“Did he just refer to me as your toy?” Randall asked Rowena while keeping his gaze locked on Nicholas. She smiled at the bite in his tone.
“Yes,” she agreed, attempting to keep the humor from her voice. “I believe that he did.”
“Well, fuck that,” he grumbled, and dropped the load of supplies on the deck. The bottles burst upon impact and Randall stomped his foot on the lemon, causing its juices to squirt into the mixture. Waving his hand over it, the mess turned into a powdery mix that rose into the air. It hovered between them and Nicholas.
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