Magic and Mayhem: Witchin' Impossible 3: Familiar Protocol (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Witchin' Impossible Mysteries)

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Magic and Mayhem: Witchin' Impossible 3: Familiar Protocol (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Witchin' Impossible Mysteries) Page 5

by Renee George


  “Isn’t this place a little crowded for a meeting? Not that I’m complaining. I could go for some dessert and some coffee.”

  “The bosses have rented the place out for the day. Apparently, your Shifter-Witch Coalition told them to get a place of their own.”

  “Pearl,” Leo said disapprovingly.

  “What?” She shrugged. “It’s not anything Ms. Kinsey can’t find out on her own. I mean, I’m certain someone will tell her that Kent Kinsey told Balderdash to go find his own litter box to piss in.” A hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  “Loose lips,” the snowball said.

  Pearl rolled her eyes. “Let’s get you inside,” she told me. “I’m sure whatever they have planned for your afternoon will be thrilling and educational.”

  I walked into Lolo’s. Pearl and Leonidus stayed outside. I wished they would have escorted me inside. I was pretty sure under different circumstances, Pearl and I would have totally vibed.

  “Have a seat, Ms. Kinsey,” Balderdash said. He and his cohorts were sitting on top of the diner’s counter, and their witches and warlocks stood behind them once again. “Any table is fine.”

  Becksy Ansel, a teenage witch, who waitressed at Lolo’s brought me a cup of coffee, with two sugars and a small tub of French vanilla creamer. I smiled at her. She looked startled for a moment when she really looked at me. “I’m okay,” I told her. “I just forgot to moisturize this morning. Thank you for the coffee. How’s the pie today?”

  “The apple is delicious,” Becksy said. “I’ll get you a slice.”

  I applauded the brave girl. She wasn’t letting a group of intimidating cats intimidate her. She was currently dating Lincoln, Ford’s younger brother. And when I say younger, I mean like twenty-years-apart younger. Since Becksy was a witch, Bryant had found a way to rationalize that his younger son dating outside his clan was somehow my fault.

  “How’s Lincoln?” I asked.

  Becksy blushed. “Good.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll be right back with the pie.”

  “Thanks.” I turned my attention to the clowder, who were all looking at me like I’d grown another head. I guess they weren’t used to have insolence served up to them in the form of me. “What can I do for you hairballs?”

  A blur of pink-wrinkly skin knocked my coffee cup from the table.

  “Damn it, Lonnie!” I hadn’t added the cream and sugar yet, but the coffee was hot enough, that what splashed on my shirt burned. “Get away from me, you wrinkle monster.”

  “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Lonnie thrust his chin in the air. “Pot meet kettle.”

  “Yeah, well, my wrinkles won’t be permanent.”

  “If you don’t accept me as your familiar, they will.”

  Queenie, with her sharp British accent, shouted, “Enough. I am unamused.”

  Doing my best Spike from the Buffy-verse impression, I said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to do anything to get your knickers in a twist, love.”

  “Tell us where Lupitia and Tisiphone are hiding, Kinsey.” This came from Jane the Tabby. “We don’t want to punish you. It’s not our way. We, familiars, are created for the sole purpose of partnership with a witch or warlock. Can’t you see that what Tisiphone and Lupitia have done goes against our very nature? So much so, that it’s never happened before.”

  Devi, the female Bombay added, “We can’t allow this anomaly to exist in the world. It could potentially tear apart the fabric of magic itself.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, because, seriously, I wanted to know. What the black cat suggested seemed downright apocalyptic.

  “Of course, we’re serious,” Balderdash said. “We wouldn’t have convened here in Paradise Falls if we weren’t serious, you fatuous witch.”

  “I am not fat!” Betsy took that moment to bring me a new cup of coffee and a big slice of pie.

  “I didn’t say you were,” Balderdash waved his paw in the air. “Never mind. We don’t have time for all this. Terrible things will happen if we don’t break the familiar bond between Tisiphone and Lupitia.”

  “How do you know any of this is true? It sounds like a meta-episode for Supernatural, you know, the ones that offer comic relief from the Armageddon plot lines.”

  “This is not a television show,” Deva shouted. He was getting pretty riled up. “This is real life, and you are playing a dangerous game.”

  “Just give me proof. Any proof that what you’re saying is true. According to you, this has never happened before, so how do you know it will all end badly? Is there a prophecy ball sitting on a dusty shelf somewhere that I should know about?”

  John, the male tabby said, “Jane’s warlock, Larry, has seen it in a prophecy.”

  I glanced at the black haired warlock behind Jane. His scathing gaze made me shiver.

  “So, Larry.” I took a bite of the apple pie in front of me, because, well, pie. Savored the flavor for a moment and swallowed. I pointed the fork at Larry. “You’re a prophet. Give me an example of anything you’ve predicted coming true. Go ahead.”

  “How about the fall of the Roman empire? Is that good enough for you?” John said, vehemently defending his sister’s warlock.

  “Who didn’t see that coming? I mean, really, once the Visigoths got on the scene, Rome was doomed.” Thank you, History channel for that little documentary. I took a couple more bites of pie as the clowder watched on in sheer horror. When I was done, I stood up. “I am not your prisoner, and I’m done being interrogated. I’m out of here.”

  “You can’t just leave,” Queenie said.

  “Watch me.”

  “Let her go,” Balderdash told them. “For now.”

  Outside, I nodded to Pearl and flipped off Leonidus as I walked straight out of the parking lot and turned west up the sidewalk of Elysium toward Twelfth street. From there it was a couple of blocks to Valhalla, and my home away from home, aka the cop shop. I grabbed my phone from my purse and called the unknown number from the day before.

  Ford picked up on the first ring. “Is everything okay?”

  “I could ask you the same thing?” It was February and chillier out than I’d expected. The T-shirt and sweat pants would have been plenty warm if I still had my magic, but since I didn’t… “I’m a couple of blocks from Lolo’s heading toward the station on foot. Can you pick me up? It’s pretty cold out, and I didn’t bring a jacket.”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “At home with my jacket.” I sighed. “The HFC enforcer came and got me. The cats wanted to corner me again to find out where Tiz and Skip-To-My-Lou were hiding. They were pretty adamant about wanting them both, which makes me wonder if they are behind the cat’s disappearance. It doesn’t seem likely.”

  “Did they hurt you?” I could hear the anger in his voice, so I skipped the part about Leo dropping me on my knees.

  “I’m fine. Just freezing. I didn’t realize how many little things I used my magic for.” I rubbed my upper arm with my free hand. “Like keeping warm.” And dental hygiene. I wasn’t sure if now was the time to reveal that I’d used Ford’s toothbrush, though. “Can you come and get me?”

  “I’m already on my way. I see you just ahead.”

  I looked up the street, and Ford’s truck was less than a block away. Suddenly, I was self-conscious. Would my appearance shock him?”

  He pulled up next to me, reached over and unlocked the passenger door. Being cold outweighed my vanity. I opened the door and climbed in, smoothing down my flyaway hair. “Hey,” I said.

  Ford put the car in Park, reached over to me, and pulled me into his arms. He tilted my chin and looked deeply into my eyes. His blue gaze melting my panties. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, Hazel Kinsey. I thought that twenty years ago, I thought that last week, and I think that today. Don’t ever doubt how much I love you, woman. Never.”

  “Even with the wrinkles and bruises?”

  He nodded. “Yes, even with.”


  Tears crested my eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Ford.” I shook my head. “Or maybe I’m your punishment. Were you bad in a past life?”

  “If I was, I wouldn’t change a thing. Whatever happens with this familiar business, we will be together. If that means moving away from Paradise Falls and going on the run with Tizzy, then that’s what we’ll do. I will love you until I take my last breath. I don’t need a mate scent to tell me that you are the best part of my life.”

  I crawled up on his lap and straddled his thighs. I rose up on my knees and cradled Ford’s face. I dipped my lips to his and kissed him. His hands slid under my T-shirt and up my back, his deft fingers unhooking my bra. He gently kneaded my spine in a way that felt good against the soreness as his tongue went all Conan the Conqueror with my mouth. Goddess, this man knew how to rev up my engine.

  I squirmed against him, pleased when he moaned, his hard erection straining against his jeans. His hands wandered to the front of my body, his fingers slipping under the loose cups of my bra and caressing my ta-tas.

  “Yes,” I whispered against his mouth. I rocked forward, mashing our bits together, the building tension in my body culminating in aching pleasure that begged to explode. “Yes, Ford. I’m going to—”

  “Goddess, you two, it’s broad daylight in a busy section of town!” Tizzy squeaked from the passenger seat. “I’m going to start wearing a blindfold before I show up.”

  Ford growled as he moved his hands from under my shirt. I slid into the middle area between him and squirrel. “You have rotten timing,” I told her.

  A car honked behind us and a blushed. I’d been ready to have sex in the middle of a main street. Ack!

  “You two need to get your priorities straight,” she chastised. “Have you heard anything about Lupitia? She could be hurt, Hazel. They could be torturing her for information about me. Have you thought about that while you're bumping uglies like two horny dingoes?”

  I flushed guiltily.

  “We never actually got to the ugly bumping yet, thanks to you,” Ford said.

  “I will squeeze your belly if I want you to say something, Teddy Ruxpin.”

  “Stop it,” I said. “Both of you.”

  My phone rang, saving me from having to say more. It was Tanya. “Hey,” I said. “I’m putting you on speakerphone. I have Ford and Tiz with me.”

  “Bryant and I have been scouring the rules, and we can’t find anything specific about a familiar bonding with a familiar, but he thinks they are using some of the rules with broader language to charge Tizzy and Lupitia. There is also the directive that if a familiar’s witch bond is broken, they are to turn themselves over to the high clowder for reassignment. If Tizzy didn’t know Lupitia’s witch died, you have a strong case to save her, but Lupitia wouldn’t have any defense. She would have known the instant it happened.”

  “Crap,” I mouthed to Tiz. “Okay. Is there anything else that might be useful?”

  “I’ve called around to some contacts in other paranormal communities. No one has ever heard of a familiar bonding with another familiar. It really is virgin territory. This case may set a precedent.”

  “Ceasar’s nuts! I’m not trying to be the next Roe versus Wade,” Tizzy said. “I don’t want to make history. I just want to live a quiet life with Hazel and Lupitia. I don’t even care about the extra power. I’d happily return it all, go magic free, if I could just get my life back.”

  “I’m sorry, Tisiphone,” Tanya said. “I wish we had better news.”

  After she hung up, I looked at Ford. “Romy Quinn died in witch jail. Maybe the way she died could shed some light on how this familiar-familiar bond happened.”

  “She killed herself, Haze. There isn’t anything mystical about suicide,” Tizzy said.

  “No, but maybe if we knew how she killed herself, that might help.” I scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I found WIC, which stood for “Witch In Charge” and hit the call button.

  Baba Yaga picked up on the first ring. “Hello, Hazel. What can I do for you?”

  Chapter Nine

  BABA YAGA APPEARED in my house at noon. She wore hot pink, high-waisted, skinny jeans with a camel toe that would have given a camel a run for his money. Her black corset hugged her breasts until they were almost popping out over the top. Over that, she wore a large, black vinyl jacket reminiscent of Pat Benatar. Even her hair and makeup conjured images of the eighties rock icon.

  “I have the information about Romy Quinn you wanted.” She held a manila folder in her hand. Her glittery nail polish sparkled against the dull surface. “But, you do know you’ll owe me a favor for this right?”

  I was going to be owing Baba Yaga until I was four-hundred years old if my life kept throwing twists at me every time I turned around. This was the third time I’d called on the All-Powerful queen of all witches for help. Her efforts were hardly ever direct, though. She seemed to abide by the view that the Goddess helps those who help themselves. But she was good at pointing me in the right direction.

  “Deal,” I told her. “If I don’t get my magic back, though, I’m not sure how I’ll be able to return the favor in any meaningful way.”

  “You know people in the human world. Important government people. Those kinds of contacts can be useful. Being a witch is not all about magic.”

  “Tell that to my sagging boobs,” I told her.

  “You have aged beautifully, Hazel. You should embrace the fact that by human standards, you’re gorgeous.”

  I didn’t say it out loud, but I appreciated Baba Yaga’s compliment. If I had to live as a human, I could do with some confidence. At least for a few years, maybe even a few decades.

  Then I would eventually get really old and decrepit and die. Or maybe get one of those awful human diseases, and die sooner rather than later.

  And, I was depressed again. “So how did Romy kill herself?”

  “Sheer determination,” Baba Yaga said. “Really, much like what’s going on with Tisiphone, Romy’s death was unique. I’d never had a witch kill herself while in custody. She used a pencil.”

  “She what?”

  “She had pencils and paper to write letters or journal. We encourage that sort of thing as part of their self-reflection. She sharpened one of the pencils then put the pointed end inside her ear canal, put the eraser end against the wall and…” Baba Yaga moved her head sideways, demonstrating Romy’s self-impalement.

  I grimaced. “That’s determined.”

  “No kidding.” She tapped her deep, red lower lip. “Surprisingly, there wasn’t a lot of blood. Really, if it hadn’t been for the two inches of pencil sticking out of her ear, we might have struggled to find a cause of death.”

  “I’m not sure if that helps any, but thank you.”

  “You know, strangely, there was a second suicide a month later. A Roberta Mendell. She’d been in the Salem jail for fifteen years for turning a human landlord into a dung beetle so he could find out what it was like to have to ‘live in a shit house.’ Her words, not mine.”

  “From San Francisco area?”

  “Yeah,” said Baba Yaga. “How’d you know?”

  “An FBI pal of mine worked the missing persons case. He said the guy showed up claiming to have been turned into a bug by his witch tenant. We’d gotten a good laugh out of that one. Really, I thought it was just another case of someone taking bad acid. I can’t believe it was true.” I laughed.

  “Easy to laugh when you aren’t the one digging through porcine feces to find the sleazy buffoon.”

  I gave her a pointed, incredulous look that I hoped conveyed the sentiment, No way, Jose. “You dug through pig poop?”

  “No, of course not, but my investigators did, and Roberta was due to get paroled next year. After she had taken her life, in a very similar way to Romy, I had to add extra wards to the cells to make sure it didn’t happen again.”

  “One more favor,” I said. “Do you think you can get my
magic back? I never realized how crappy getting old must feel. I can’t tell you how many ways I used to razz my old boss back in Kansas City.”

  “Sorry.” She shook her head. “I can’t interfere with the High Familiar Clowder. It’s part of the Witch-Familiar agreement. If I piss them off, they may just walk away from us, but I do know how to keep my mouth shut.” She put her finger to her lips. “I won’t tell them that you are hiding Tisiphone behind the couch.”

  “Thanks, Baba Yaga.”

  She winked then poofed out. Tizzy came around the couch and scampered over to me. “Bag O’Yams is one scary witch.”

  “You’re telling me.” But at least I got what Baba Yaga had promised. Fat lot of good it did me.

  “I’ve come to give you an update,” my father said, suddenly behind me.

  I yelped as I spun around on him. “Don’t startle me like that.”

  “I’m sorry.” He looked chagrinned. “Mike Crandall says that the clowder has seven rooms at the Paradise Falls Inn. Each familiar with his or her respective warlock or witch has their own rooms. Balderdash’s and Pluto’s warlock and witch are having an affair, but the weremongoose on Pluto’s room said they didn’t talk about Tiz’s case. Queenie and her witch disapparated for half an hour. No idea where they went. John and Jane have been napping, but Jane’s warlock was on the phone with a family member. Something about the death of someone close.”

  “And Deva and Devi?”

  Dad shook his head. “Nothing there either.”

  Tizzy climbed up to my shoulder. “So no chatter about Lupitia? I know they have to have her. She wouldn’t just leave me.”

  “I believe you, Tiz.” I scratched her cheek. “But I don’t think the clowder has her, but we won’t give up until we find her. I promise.”

  “Mary Lowe says her trackers are picking up a lot of false trails in the woods, but she’s not giving up either.” He thinned his lips. “I wish I had better news.”

  “Me too. Thanks, Dad.”

  He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and popped out again. I’d never been a fan of translocation spelling, but at this point, I longed for any magic. Even magic that might put me in the middle of a mountain. Since I was never very good with witchcraft, the mountain had been a real possibility. Once I’d ended up in the ocean. Luckily, I’d been near the shore, or it could have been disastrous.

 

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