Magic and Mayhem: How To Date A Dragon (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Baba Yaga Saga Book 2)

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Magic and Mayhem: How To Date A Dragon (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Baba Yaga Saga Book 2) Page 6

by Donna McDonald


  Carol laughed. “Creed? I have a creed?”

  “Did neither of you study your own history? And it harm none…” Thane recited.

  “Dude, you need to get an updated book on witches,” Carol protested. “That’s still the guideline, but magic itself is the judge and jury when it comes to actions. It always has been. The creed was a focused thought meant to help a witch keep her heart pure. If we come across someone doing evil though, Hildy and I are honor bound to do what it takes to stop them.”

  “Hildy obviously thought I was a threat. Do you see me as one?” Thane asked.

  Carol made a face. “No. No. I was speaking rhetorically… not specifically.”

  “I’m sorry. What does rhetoric have to do with anything?” Thane inquired.

  Carol rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. The dragon wasn’t as sharp as he looked. Or at least he wasn’t another Professor Smoke. The Jezibaba was probably right about her Professor Hottie being one of a kind.

  “Forget that stuff. I just said that crap trying to impress your academic side,” Carol confessed, grinning around her iced tea.

  Thane chuckled as he sipped his coffee. “Don’t bother being what you are not, witch. I was impressed when I saw you fighting. You fight like an Amazon. Your movements in the training ring are their own poetry.”

  “Wow—what a great compliment. Thank you. My trainer would be so happy to hear that. She’s an Amazon, you know. We stay in touch. I get to visit her on the island.”

  Thane grunted again. She was sure of it this time. Her little bubble of happiness nearly burst when she had to admit his churlishness to herself.

  Then came the hard, hard question. Did she care if he was a knuckle-dragging beast while not in his dragon form? Not all dragons could be as smooth and sexy as Professor Smoke. But then they weren’t as big a challenge as Thane either.

  She’d been schooled alongside several dragons. None were quite as full of themselves as Thane was.

  Carol studied his square jaw, his even teeth as he sipped his coffee, his button up shirt covering wide shoulders that tapered to a waist she wondered if her hands could span. She thought of being in his arms and a sigh escaped her.

  “Evidently, I don’t care,” she said aloud, giggling to herself.

  “I’m sorry. Did I miss something in our conversation again?” Thane asked.

  Carol was finally startled out of her musings. Had she really spoken her thoughts aloud? Sweet Goddess, that had to stop. Her thoughts were not for mass consumption. She only shared a fraction of them with Hildy and the Jezibaba.

  “I’m sorry, Thane. I’m… I think I’m still a bit traumatized from my close call,” she lied.

  “Understandable,” Thane said.

  Carol squirmed a little in her chair getting comfortable. “You know, I can’t stop wondering how that building defied gravity enough to stay intact for an airborne trip all the way across campus only to fall precisely into the training ring. How do you think something like that could happen?”

  Thane smiled. “Such abject dedication to solving all of life’s mysteries. Tell me something, witch. Do you always have Baba Yaga business on your mind? Do you never think of yourself?”

  Carol chuckled. “Maybe you have a point. My single-minded focus has been many years in the making. Sometimes I even wake up in the middle of the night figuring things out. Sometimes Morgana visits my dreams and tells me to go back to sleep and stop thinking so hard.”

  Thane snorted. “You witches and your deities. Do you really think your Goddess visits you to help you?”

  Her back stiffened at his tone as well as his words. Good-looking or not, there was no reason for Thane to doubt her word about the Goddess. She wasn’t a liar. The Jezibaba had cured her of that nasty habit many years ago. And the Goddess always came to help… always.

  “Yes. Morgana The Red visits me. She visits the Jezibaba. She doesn’t visit Hildy yet, but we don’t question the Goddess in her comings and goings. We just accept her presence and guidance. Hildy’s spells last longer than anyone’s. Morgana always, always hears her call… as I’m sure you’re well aware of by now.”

  “Yes. Well aware,” Thane repeated dryly, drinking the last of his bitter brew. “So now that we’ve established your friend and I are not suited for each other, do you think you might like to go out on a date with me? I find your abrasiveness oddly stimulating.”

  Her back stiffened again—this time for a different reason. She stared into Thane’s silver grey eyes and thought about… Iren? Yes. That’s exactly who she was thinking about—Iren the skinny elf with his tingling kiss and his eagerness to know her pressed against her thigh. Why wasn’t she thinking about similar things with the dragon? Why was that so impossible to bring to mind?

  Carol frowned. “Date you?” she asked, stalling for time enough to figure it out.

  Thane glared. “Was I not speaking clearly?”

  Carol winced at his irritation, but glared back. “Oh, I heard your words clearly enough. Why don’t I believe you mean them? My instincts are not at all relaxed around you.”

  Thane motioned with his hand. “Enough with this doubting. Why are all witches so infuriating? I asked you a simple question. I expect you to give me a simple answer.”

  Carol laughed until Thane stood, bent over the table, and lifted her to him by the front of her shirt. Manhandling? Really? Was she going to allow him to do this?

  The coffee shop patrons stopped talking to watch them. She found their concern for her a little thrilling but quickly pushed the guilty pleasure of loving all that attention aside.

  Thane’s mouth on hers jolted her out of her soul-searching and sent bolts of lightning racing along her nerve endings. Her mouth opened on a delighted gasp and his tongue plunged inside to explore in way no boy’s tentative kiss ever had. She liked it… holy Goddess, she liked it a lot. She just didn’t like Thane… or his arrogance… or his lack of respect for her… her job… the Jezibaba. Goddess… Hildy. He kissed perfectly but was the world’s worst jerk.

  Carol jerked away and glared at him. Thane glared back but the glare turned to a satisfied smirk as his gaze raked over her face. She didn’t know what he was seeing but she could see in his gaze that he knew precisely what he was making her feel. And that was his miscalculation.

  The Jezibaba had been so right about men… so right. No wonder the woman had waited for Professor Smoke before falling in love. Goddess, three hundred years the Jezibaba had waited. Carol hoped she didn’t have to wait that long. She was going to be the oldest living virgin witch in history.

  Thane reached out a hand and stroked her cheek. “Do you like that my kiss can make you sweat harder than you do in the training ring? There’s more I can show you… more I want to show you. Say the word, little witch, and I’m yours.”

  “Oh. My. Goddess. Hildy was so right about you. You’re as hot as the flame shooting out of your mouth, but also the biggest douchebag on the Witchery U campus. I’d rather date a warlock than to date you, Thane. You’re just trying to score with me because Hildy busted you for being a shit to her.”

  Thane moved his hand from her face and rose to his full height. When he opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal, Carol shook her head and held up a hand. “I’ve been playing nice and you’ve been disrespectful about nearly everything I am or believe. It is simply not reasonable for you to assume I’d want to jump you after all the insults you’ve flung my way.”

  “And you’re a prize? Even your Elven rescuer walked away from you, witch. I heard him all the way across campus. You should be flattered that a dragon desires you. Any normal female would jump into my arms and be grateful. Any other witch would count herself extremely lucky that I even offered myself to one of her kind.”

  “One of her kind? Goddess you’re dumb for an academic.” Carol stood too then. She was at the end of her patience and that was never a good thing. “At the risk of repeating what I’m certain now Hildy said to you… I’m not jus
t any witch, dragon boy. I’m a Baba Yaga. And the answer is no. I don’t want to date you.”

  “No is not an acceptable answer. Are you issuing a challenge?” Thane asked.

  Carol felt him lean forward until he was inches from her mouth again. She could feel the tingles in the air between them. She made herself memorize this power he had over her feelings because she knew men were going to be her weakness in life, just like they had been for the Jezibaba for years. She didn’t know how she was going to get tough enough to turn down the Thanes of this world, but she’d start with him and figure it out.

  Carol leaned towards Thane until their lips almost met. She was no stranger to answering threats of any kind. “Do you want to be a fish again, Thane? Is that what this unwelcome pressure on me is all about? Because if I do that spell to you, I promise you’re going to have a couple heads and some ugly fish feet when I get done. I failed the class on cross-species mutations—twice. It was not pretty.”

  Thane reared back at her statements, but Carol didn’t let him reply again. She reached out a hand and grabbed the front of his shirt jerking him closer. Two could play the manhandling game. Seconds later she was shoving him down on the bench in the courtyard.

  “You’re going to regret this rejection one day,” Thane warned.

  Carol shook her head. “You’re wrong. I regret it already, but I’ve had a lot of practice doing the right thing. In case you’re not familiar with the concept, that’s what this is, Thane… me walking away from you like I’m doing.”

  Carol didn’t look back at the dragon as she headed to the dorm. Her headache was gone and her mind was clear. The sense of dread she felt fluttering in her stomach was probably an equally bad omen, but she would deal with it later.

  Hildy had upset the dragon. She, on the other hand, with her outright “no” had most likely made a lifelong enemy.

  Chapter 8

  Wondering where her usual bossiness had gone, she stopped obediently behind Nathaniel when her head warlock stopped in the middle of the woods. They were still on the Witchery U grounds, but the school’s buildings were out of sight.

  “We need only a bit of privacy to cast the containment circle. This will do,” Nathaniel said.

  Listening to him chant, Jezibaba watched as her most trusted warlock gathered and built several towers of stones until he’d created a small altar to honor the earth. On top of the tallest stack of the cairn, Nathaniel placed a tree agate stone which was unpolished and still in its raw state. The stone alone was nothing important but something activated when Nathaniel put it on the top of the tallest stone tower. Now the power of the tree agate called to her. Her fingers itched to hold the stone in her hand, which was an extremely odd reaction for her. All she could think was that part of her essence was in it… a thought which made no sense whatsoever. She’d never seen the stone until today even though Nathaniel had said he’d kept it in the pocket of his cloak.

  Jezibaba studied her longest-lived advisor and wondered what else she didn’t know about him. Nathaniel’s two predecessors hadn’t even been memorable to her. She knew she would mourn this particular warlock’s passing. The emotional turmoil she saw coming was almost enough reason to hate him. And lately she’d had the oddest urges to take care of him the way humans did their aging parents.

  “Are you sure about this, Nathaniel? A powerful mage could offer you many things to make your life better. Goddess knows, you’ve had little ease during your service to me.”

  Jezibaba swallowed when Nathaniel raised his head. His gaze was as direct as Morgana’s at times. The way he was looking now nearly unnerved her… not that she’d ever let him know that.

  “Not long after saving the mage, I found the only other thing I ever cared about in this life, M’lady. My wife died having our son, and I later lost him too. My magic was why the Goddess refused to take my life when I begged. I gladly accepted her suggestion that I serve you because I was sure death would find me quickly. Surviving this long is the only disappointment I’ve had with you.”

  Jezibaba snorted. “You have served me and Morgana well, Nathaniel. But that’s not an answer that explains your lack of self-preservation.”

  “Yet it’s the only answer I have for you. One day your heart may understand those things no words can convey. Are you ready for me to call him? Zenos will not be pleasant, but that fact will not change with any amount of hesitation.”

  Jezibaba nodded. “I am as ready as I can make myself. I will not allow the mage to harm you. Know that when you proceed.”

  “My personal safety is the least of my concerns. Death would be welcome at my age.”

  “When the children are no longer children, then you can die, Nathaniel. Not one minute before, do you hear me? Carol and Hildy are not ready yet. You’re not getting out of helping me finish this torture.”

  His quiet snicker lifted the corner of her mouth. Goddess, they both had nearly lost their sense of humor in the last eight years. Life had been so much easier when all they did was track down magical bad guys for a living.

  Raising magical children? They had proved she was not cut out for motherhood.

  Nathaniel took a long stick and drew a wide casting circle round the cairn. It was wide enough to let a large human land within it. He marked the four corners of the circle with direction symbols then handed her the limb when he was finished with his casting.

  Eyebrows up at his absentmindedness, and his audacity, Jezibaba tossed the limb aside as Nathaniel started a second chant. Latin of course. Warlocks preferred the tongue of the would be conquerors of the English. The ultimate joke though was on the Roman warmongers. Only their language lived on… and it only fell from the tongues of human priests and ancient warlocks. No right-minded person gave it a thought.

  “Dico autem spiritu

  ut honoris causam mea.

  Venit Zenos. Veni ad me.

  Ego pracipio tibi.”

  Jezibaba let out her breath the moment she realized she had been holding it. Nathaniel had called to Zenos and mentioned honor twice. She bit her lip when she noted Nathaniel stood just outside the circle.

  He offered up the chant seven more times before the winds finally answered him. They whipped around and around until the circle began to glow and move with a small tornado in the center of it.

  A larger male, even larger than Damien, appeared inside the rushing wind. The man chanted something himself until the tornado receded enough for him to finish materializing. His bow was habitual. It figured Zenos would be as old school as Nathaniel was. But the smirk twisting his mouth betrayed his true character.

  His hair was flame colored, and at the moment, so was his face. The handsome mage was obviously not pleased to find himself constrained by Nathaniel’s magic. And this was why she’d never given anyone a promise of power over her.

  Zenos had absolutely nothing he could fight with in this circumstance. The mage would either concede with an honest heart to Nathaniel’s request… or the winds would carry off his soul to whatever god or goddess owned the promise locked in the tree agate.

  She watched the legendary mage study his hands, his body, and the circle drawn crudely on the ground. When his gaze lifted, it went immediately to Nathaniel. She doubted he even saw her.

  “Ya saved me when we met, Druid, but I always knew ya would call me back for my death one day. It is the way of things to come full circle, but damn ya for doing so right now. Ya should have seen the two lasses ya pulled me away from. I’d had my sights on them for weeks. Yer a cock blocker… yer are. It’s been a long time, Nathaniel… and I wish it had been longer.”

  Jezibaba narrowed her eyes. Zenos was not at all what she’d expected him to be. He had yet to set off a single one of her inner alarms. Hell, Damien could do it when he frowned at her. She checked inside herself and found no worry at all. Great. Now her instincts were broken—one more failing thing in her arsenal.

  The mage squinted his eyes as he walked to the absolute edge of the
circle going toe to toe with her warlock. Nathaniel stood directly in front of him now, unmoving and seemingly unaffected by Zenos’s powerful presence.

  Behind Nathaniel, Jezibaba stiffened instinctively, waiting for the real show to begin. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “Ya look like shriveled up troll shite, Nathaniel. Are ya on the edge of death and expecting me to drag yer ugly arse back from it?” Zenos demanded. “Well, I won’t do it, boy. I won’t. Trust me, ya don’t want the torment that comes from too long a life.”

  When Nathaniel pushed back his cowl and dropped it, Jezibaba winced and had to will herself not to look away. Her lead warlock had been covering his face with the hood of his cloak for the last thirty years. Nathaniel was mortal, and had lived long even for a magical. Now she knew he’d been doing everyone a favor by hiding his face.

  “I know precisely the damage time has done to me, but I did not call you to learn your secrets about remaining young. What I want is for you to honor your favor to me by training two young witches to work with their innate magic. You must agree to my request before I will release you from the honoris circle you allowed between us.”

  “And what if I don’t agree to train them, boy? Do ya think to kill me with my own magic after all these years? Ya missed yer chance long ago if that’s the case.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “No. It rather pleases me to see you well because saving you is something I’m proud of having done in my life. But I will not hesitate to leave your fate in the hands of those on whom you swore when you gifted me the stone, Zenos. So I need your word that you will do as I ask.”

  Zenos snorted. “It figures ya would be the one to hold me to my single moment of weakness. Ya know how I felt about what ya did then and I guess I haven’t changed my bloody mind about it. So who are these fecking witches I’m to fecking train? Are they the pathetic offspring of the female cowering behind yer foolish ass?”

  “No,” Jezibaba said, stepping to Nathaniel’s side. “And I’m not cowering. I was waiting patiently, which isn’t one of my better traits, so you’d best mind your tongue around me, Mage. The two young witches have been chosen by the Goddess Morgana to eventually replace me in my service to her. They are not your average magicals. They require a unique teacher.”

 

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