Magic and Mayhem: The Witch Singer (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Witches of Mane Street Book 1)

by Heather Long

  Was what enough? My tongue seemed rooted to the roof of my mouth. “Oh, yes. Thank you, more than sufficient.”

  “I’d still like to go with you to Assjacket, Bridget.” Everything in me went quivery at the way he said my name. Totally unexpected and really aggravating.

  “Stop that.” I pointed my finger at him again.

  Freezing in place, he raised his hands, palm forward. “Stop what?”

  “Saying my name like that. It sounds like sex on a stick, and I just want to lick you up. So, stop it.”

  When the corner of his mouth quirked upward as though he intended to grin, I glared and his smile faltered. “My apologies. Though, I wouldn’t decline a lick or three. Just remember—if you lick me, I’m yours.”

  Gaping, I wasn’t sure I possessed the strength to snap my mouth shut. The direct challenge in the come on should not be remotely attractive. Then again, the urge to run my tongue over one of his very active pecs didn’t belong in my wheelhouse either. “Mission.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Curiosity seeped into his expression.

  “I have a mission. A job. A task. A solution to be discovered.” I babbled, too. “I don’t have time for licking, not even your very attractive package.” My ears caught on fire or might as well have. The heat inside me turned up to boiling. Man, I’d been around the vampires way too long. The dead just did not do it for me. But give me all this beautiful, lovely man flesh, and I turned into a horny teenager.

  “Absolutely understood. I owe you a great debt.”

  “It was a ride in a car, bud. No need to go all my life for yours.” I waved him off then retreated toward the car. If naked butt boy was riding with me, he needed to cover up. Did I have a full body blanket in there?

  “You are odd, even for a witch,” he said, then added. “Bridget.”

  The shiver tingled all the way along my spine and sent my pulse into overdrive. “I can’t believe it, but I think I liked you better as a skunk.” I dug out a pair of super comfy leggings, stretched perfectly to accommodate shark week bloat and tossed them to him. It’d be a pity if he stretched them out of shape but better for my libido. I grabbed the first oversized shirt I could find and tossed it to him, too. “Get dressed.”

  “For the Horde?” he read off the shirt, and I glared. “Hey, I was just asking.” When I didn’t answer, he got the message and started pulling on the clothes. Once done, he gave me a little salute and a car blew past us heading down the road. First vehicle I’d seen since we came to such an ignoble stop.

  At least he hadn’t still been nude, or we might have had to field another traffic accident. “Get in the car.”

  I threw myself into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He climbed in, still barefoot and grimaced. The car seat was way too far forward for his exceptionally long legs. When he tried to put the seat back to create some leg room, he didn’t get very far. The suitcases blocked him. “Somehow it seemed bigger.”

  I didn’t wait for him to get his seat belt on, just flooring it to get us in motion and me focused on anything that didn’t involve how easily I could maneuver on his lap in that tight space. “You were definitely smaller.”

  Sunglasses on, the wind in my hair, and the skunk spray a memory. I concentrated on the prize. Assjacket, Baba Yagawampa and a cure for a succubus turned vampire.

  “I can drive if you’re tired.” Such a nice, seemingly innocent and genuine offer.

  “No.” Nobody drove Baby but me.

  “Are you sure you’re not tired?”

  I wanted to scream again. He’d got me all worked up after I managed to loosen the chains earlier. I fought the urge. I’d probably turn him back into a skunk again. Worse, he’d spray me again. “I’m not tired.” I growled the words.

  “Okay, well maybe you need some chocolate.”

  I paused on that last then slowly scowled at him. “Don’t even bring up the suggestion.” I wasn’t due for at least another six days. Life could not be that cruel.

  The cramp twisting my stomach made life a real bitch. Dammit.

  “As you wish,” he said, almost smiling again. If he went for that devastatingly sexy hot grin, I swear I’d pull over and dump him on the side of the road. “If I can do anything to assist you…”

  “Shut up.” Not quite shouting at least allowed me to maintain some semblance of composure. Sucking in a deep breath, I tried to enhance my calm or whatever that shit was people did when they meditated. “Please. Just be quiet. Let me drive. We’ll be in Assjacket soon and never have to see each other again.”

  He said nothing for the next ten miles. Blessed relief.

  “Bridget?” Course he had to spoil it.

  “What?”

  “I’m afraid that when we get to Assjacket, we can’t exactly part ways.”

  “Why not?” There was a catch to this dude being in my car? Of course there was a catch. Just like there had been cows.

  “Well…I apologize because it didn’t occur to me immediately, but you freed my curse.”

  “So? That’s a good thing right?”

  “Well, only she who will be mine for all eternity…could break it.”

  I slammed on the brakes and yanked the car onto the shoulder. “Get out.”

  Chapter Five

  Martin looked so puzzled as I left him on the side of the road. I was going to miss that t-shirt. It was a personal favorite. Still, I didn’t have time for any fated love crap. I’d just gotten my freedom. No way was I going to get tied down to some dude who’d been a skunk. I mean, I’d heard about kissing a toad and turning them into a prince, but how did that work?

  Really? I didn’t kiss him.

  I screamed.

  A mile away from him, I’d already slowed from the sixty I’d accelerated to and dropped to forty-five. I couldn’t get the image of those soulful eyes out of my head.

  I’d screamed. I’d done what Nanny taught me to do. I’d vented all my frustration to seek relief.

  Slamming on the brakes, I winced at the squealing sound my tires made. I was leaving more rubber on the highway than a college boy at a frat party. Pulling onto the side of the road, I stared into the distance. Assjacket wasn’t that far away. He could walk.

  He’s barefoot.

  True. Even if I wanted to put a muzzle on my conscience.

  And he’s hawt.

  Yes, but that didn’t have anything to do with my mission.

  He lurves you.

  Are you smoking something? Not that my conscience would likely answer. Still, if it was going to get high, it could at least share it. I wanted relief and freedom. They weren’t mutually exclusive items. I screamed. He stopped being a skunk.

  Freud would have so much fun with you right now.

  Stuff a cigar in it. Rubbing my face, I glanced behind as if I could see past the miles I’d traveled to where I left him wearing my favorite shark week leggings and my Horde t-shirt.

  Just turn the car around. Go pick him up and have a cup of coffee. What could it hurt to hear him out?

  Deadlines? Vampires? Curses to be undone? I’m less than two hours from the answer to all my problems.

  Or less than five minutes to the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

  How the hell could he be the best thing ever? He sprayed me. Like, skunk sprayed.

  Twice!

  You like him.

  That’s it, I wasn’t talking to my conscience ever again. It sucked.

  Aww, I lurve you, too.

  Bitch.

  I didn’t beat my hands on the steering wheel. Instead, I turned off the engine, got out of the car and walked out into the grass. It was so beautiful in the mountains. The air remained crisp, fresh and the breeze cool while the warm sun bathed me in light. In some ways, I’d forgotten the sheer joy of a bright day. Vampires preferred third shift. I don’t do well past two in the morning, but I’d been staying up till nearly dawn a lot.

  Another reason Nasty-Face having his goons drag me out of bed at
three a.m. sucked. I’d had a “rare” night off. One I could actually sleep through. True, it worked out in my favor, but still.

  Stripping off my shoes, I wiggled my toes in the grass. No sound beyond the wind rustling in the trees reached my ears. No cars. No habitation. No Martin. The last put an unbearable amount of pressure on my sense of duty. A sense I worked very hard to erode over the last few years. Some people have acute senses of smell, taste, hearing, even vision. Me, I got stuck with a deeply ingrained sense of right and wrong. Even when I didn’t want to do something or knew it might not work out for me in the end, I knew the difference.

  Never could I claim I didn’t think out the consequences or dispute whether I knew what I was doing was wrong. Turning all those humans in the bar into cows…yep, wrong. I shouldn’t have done that. I transformed them, and they didn’t know it. I eventually turned them back but only after they were out of the bar. Fortunately, they had no memory of the event.

  I did save them from playing potentially unwilling blood donors to the vamps that night. Most might have survived but certainly not all. That was the right thing to do. Saving them was good, even if the way I saved them was wrong added to the fact that I hadn’t been trying to save them at all.

  Spreading my arms wider, I kept my face toward the sun. Leaving Martin behind had been wrong. My conscience knew it. My gut knew it. My heart knew it.

  “If you know all of this, why are you still standing here?” The Goddess arrived on a whisper without fanfare. Summer blooms scented the air with honeysuckle and cloves. The spicy, fragrant mix teased my nostrils, and I opened my eyes to find her sitting delicately on the hood of my car. Her radiance warmed me even more than sun.

  “Because I hate when I screw up.”

  The Goddess shrugged. “It’s only a screw up if you don’t seek to repair the action, which you already know. So, I ask again, why are you standing on the side of the road?”

  The urge to stomp my feet and yowl about the unfairness of it all was beneath both of us, so I resisted. Head tilted, the Goddess gave me a slow, sweet smile as if she knew of my internal struggle and appreciated it.

  “If I go back, I have to admit I was wrong to dump him there and apologize.” The last really stuck in my craw. “I’ve spent the last few years paying for my abuse of power during a momentary lapse in judgment.”

  Her giggles fell like dazzling raindrops of pure light. Delight rolled off her in waves. “I love that…a momentary lapse in judgment to describe a temper tantrum. You do have a gift with words.”

  I wasn’t going to smile, but the corners of my mouth twitched. Then I chuckled. “I’m sorry, Goddess. I feel like I keep making the bad choice, even when I know it might be the bad choice.”

  “Do you accept the consequences when they happen because of your choices?”

  A fair question.

  “I do my best. I served the vampires for more years than I care to remember.”

  “You could have escaped, you know.” She sounded nonplussed.

  I could? “If you say so, m’lady. Although my early attempts ended in more pain and a longer sentence, sometimes pragmatism must rule over heroic effort.” Folding my arms, I stared down at my feet. The Goddess had every right to be irked with me. “Okay, I could have worked out a low vibrational frequency to cast and get the collar off, shocks or not…”

  “Yet you remained.” Yes, she wasn’t going to let me escape the reality I’d created by choosing to stay with them.

  “I did something wrong. I deserved to be punished. Transforming humans against their will. Using my magic on the innocents. I figured if anyone disagreed, the Baba Yaga would have showed up and dragged me off to Salem. No Baba Yaga. No Salem. Must have been right.”

  Nodding slowly, the Goddess’ radiant countenance grew thoughtful. “Fairly sound logic, if a bit linear, except for one, teensy, tiny little thing.”

  I squinted, racking my brain for what she could be referring to. “Nope, I got nothing.”

  “I know you don’t.” Miming walking with her fingertips, she slid off the car’s hood. “Get going songbird. Men to pick up, a Baba Yaga to find, and a vampire’s problem to solve.”

  I started for the car immediately because…well, because when the Goddess tells you to move, you move. The text of the order, however, gave me pause. “You said men, not man.”

  “Men. Man. Don’t focus on the semantics, songbird.” The Goddess chuckled.

  A Baba Yaga to find. “So I shouldn’t focus on the article a instead of the when referring to the Baba Yaga?” My power lay in my voice, my ability to vocalize a spell, and sing it, punctuating the words.

  Arms folded, the Goddess tossed her hair like some old shampoo commercial revealing the gorgeous textures of her glossy locks. I don’t think everyone saw the Goddess the way I did. I know not everyone sees her. I’ve had the privilege for years. Some experiences were cooler than others. “It’s simply a matter of phrasing. You’re overthinking this Bridget.” With a little flick of her hand, she waved me toward the car. “Go on now, before your man turns into a pumpkin or a fish or…a rat. Maybe one of those little electronic creatures the humans are capturing with their phones.”

  No way, didn’t want to think about the last. My life was weird enough. “He was a skunk. I don’t even know how he became a skunk.”

  “It’s his story, so you’ll have to ask him.” With a light finger to the side of her nose, she gave me a wink. “I like the way your mind is working.”

  At the door to the car, I gripped the handle but didn’t open it. Not immediately. A vampire’s problem to solve. The last item on her to do list stuck in my craw. My freedom hinged on the last. Shouldn’t it be first? Wasn’t that why I left Martin behind? He was free of his curse, I didn’t kill him, and he had some of my favorite clothes… Don’t focus on the semantics, songbird.

  Semantics.

  There was power in words. Of all people, I understood that. It was how I weaved my spells together. Pivoting, I looked to where the Goddess had been. Had been being the key phrase. It was just me, the car, the empty road and field around me.

  “Ugh.” Dropping into the driver’s seat, I got the engine revving then accelerated back the way I’d come. It took time, but I found Martin trudging along, still heading in the direction of Assjacket. I had to pass him then double back.

  I don’t know whether he saw me or simply paused for a break, but he waited for me with a crooked, sweet smile and his arms folded.

  “Hey there,” I said, when I pulled onto the shoulder next to him. “Need a ride from an idiot?”

  “Nah.” The sober response surprised me. “I’d rather have one from a pretty witch.”

  Hitting the unlock button, I waited for him to climb into the passenger seat. His feet were filthy. Another kernel of guilt blossomed in my belly. “I’m…” The next word stuck in my throat. No matter how I struggled to get it out, it wouldn’t break free. Putting the car in gear, I accelerated back onto the road. “Long walk?”

  His laughter teased me, but I couldn’t really begrudge him. “It’s a nice day for a walk. The grass was soft, not a lot of trash to have to avoid. We’ll call it a good walk rather than a long one.”

  “Great.” That was the only word I could squeeze out. I needed to apologize. So I opened my mouth to say sorry, and the word wouldn’t come. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “Long drive?” The purposeful mimicking of my earlier question wasn’t lost on me.

  “It’s a nice day for a drive.” Awesome, really. The wind tugged at my hair and the air carried the fresh scents of pine, grass, and nature. It was as far from city smog and noise as I could imagine.

  “You came back.” He said the last with a gentle touch of his fingers to my arm. The feather light caress sent a wave of wildly inappropriate and utterly delightful tingles racing along my spine.

  “You’re observant.”

  “Easy to be flip when you have the car keys.”

  Don�
��t focus on the semantics, songbird. “True. All of those statements are true, if uncomfortable.”

  “You’re very proper all of a sudden.” Martin leaned toward me and took a deep breath. Was he sniffing me?

  “I thought you weren’t a Shifter.”

  “I’m not.” His fingers tightened, keeping our connection electric. “You smell like sunshine and summer rolled into the most perfect sugar cookies…you saw the Goddess.”

  Slanting him a look, I resisted the knee jerk slam on the brakes. Being predictable gives me hives, so maybe rolling with it would be the better call. “You know the Goddess?”

  “Not on a first name basis. At least, not in this lifetime.”

  Was he messing with me? “Which lifetime did you know her in?”

  “Must have been a couple of millennia ago. I had been a teacher in Athens, when a Roman army conscripted me. I traveled with them at first served as an interpreter, later as a language teacher. Eventually, they returned to Rome where a Senator purchased my contract, and I served as tutor to his children.”

  “This sounds like the script for a Home Movie Channel Network film.” Was he for real?

  “Maybe. It’d be boring. Not as much sex as you see in some of those films. I was a teacher and not a freedman.” Steady, calm and straightforward. Perfectly serious.

  I wasn’t quite hitting the speed limit, and my stomach growled. We were still in the middle of nowhere, but surely there was a small place or fast food joint somewhere along the way. “You sound very certain.” I’ve never been to Ancient Rome or Greece or anywhere in time. It wasn’t in my skillset.

  “I am.” He returned to stroking my arm. The soothing action calmed my jangled nerves. The touchy feely stuff shouldn’t be doing anything for me. I’m not a touchy feely person. Never have been, not really. I liked Nanny’s hugs when I was little—usually after I hurt something—but I was never an overly affectionate child. “What are you having trouble believing, Bridget? That I’m not a Shifter? Or that I remember my life from a few thousand years ago?”