Every Witch Way but Wicked

by Barbra Annino

  She straightened as if I’d insulted her and gave me a haughty once-over perusal. Her dark eyes snapped with annoyance and she sipped more wine. Buying time or simply making me wait for an answer? “I am Guinevere, Queen of Camelot.”

  Guinevere. Right. And I was Kim Kardashian. “Guinevere was not a real person, so you can’t be her ghost. She was a myth. A legend.”

  “I am not a myth.”

  Okay, the costume rocked, I’d give her that much. But not only did she have identity issues, she was quite full of herself.

  Ghosts are sometimes that way. Unhappy with their station or standing in their previous life, they take on a new one in the afterlife. They convince themselves they’re someone else and live out wild fantasies in the ghost world. The best way to handle these types of spirits was to humor them and send them on their way. “So why are you here, Guin?”

  Again, her gaze sized me up, this time appraising me as if I might divine the meaning of life for her. Or the afterlife in this case. I’d probably have to do a tarot reading, or get out the scrying mirror and ‘see’ her future just to get rid of her before midnight.

  She tilted her head subtly. “You are the matchmaker, aye?”

  That surprised me. “Yeah, but…”

  She bobbed her head. “I wish to be matched. With my soul mate.”

  I wished for a lot of things. World peace, voodoo dolls for all, and at that moment, for my great-grandmother to show up and send this Guinevere impostor packing. “I help the living find love, not the dead. Besides, Guinevere found her soul mate, remember?”

  Her brows drew down in what appeared to be confusion. If she was going to insist on being Guinevere, she should at least get her facts straight. “Lancelot. Guinevere loved Lancelot and that love ruined her life with Arthur.”

  “Lancelot?” The ghost waved a bejewelled hand. “He loved me like no other, but he was not my soul mate.”

  Well, wasn’t that disappointing? Guinevere and Lancelot’s love story had been one of the greatest of the star-crossed lovers’ genre, in my opinion, right up there with poor Romeo and Juliet.

  Wait a minute…

  I shook my head, annoyed she was drawing me into her story so easily. It was getting late and I needed to send her on her merry Camelot way. “Like I said, I can’t help you. I don’t do ghost matchmaking.”

  She set down the cup and crossed her arms over her chest. “I will not leave ‘til you help me.”

  Great. Now instead of clearing the room’s energies and doing another summoning, I was going to have to exorcise a ghost.

  But then Guin said the one thing that kept me from sending her silk-clad butt back to the afterlife. “Your great-grandmother sent me. She said you would match me with the right man. She said, ‘Keisha, my great-granddaughter, is the best. She is even better than me.’”

  I sat down in the chair, knees suddenly Jell-O. This ghost knew Owanna? She’d spoken to her? “Owanna said that?” My voice was a touch squeaky. “That I was the best matchmaker?”

  Guin did that head-bob thing once more, eyes wide and sincere. She leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, a dozen curls falling over her shoulder. Picking up the romance novel she’d been thumbing through, she held it in front of my face and pointed to the half-naked man on the front. “This male would make a fine soul mate, aye?”

  Chapter Two

  In order to match a person with their soul mate, you need two things: timing and luck.

  That’s where magic comes in.

  Somewhat reluctant but wanting to make Owanna proud, I went to work, asking Guin my set of matchmaking questions, which ranged from the standard, “What do you look for in a relationship?” to the more unusual, “If you could write a spell to bring you your heart’s desire, how would it read?”

  Listening to her answer my questions, I still wasn’t convinced she was the Guinevere, but she’d had a pretty intense three-way with two guys, that was for sure. That kind of love and betrayal couldn’t be faked and Guin was a passionate woman.

  My eyes teared up when she described her last secret tryst with Lance and how she’d been so sure he would come back for her.

  “But he did not return. I never heard from him again.” She sniffed and stared off into the mid-distance. “He left me in that tower to die. A soul mate would nay do such a horrible thing.”

  The story she’d told me was different than the ones I’d read and seen on the SyFy Channel, but close enough to the details to ring with truth. She was either one fabulous actress or I was more gullible than I thought.

  Another hour slipped by while I listened to her and formed my matchmaking plan. Normally, I didn’t mind spending time with clients, getting to know them better. In general, the better I knew my client, the easier it was to match them. The odds of this gig having a happy ending, though, were slim at best, and a matchmaker who couldn’t get her own love life straightened out wasn’t worth her magic.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have days or even hours to get to delve into Guin’s psyche. The veil would close soon.

  “Okay, here’s what I’m going to do for you.” I looked over my notes and tapped my pen against my bottom lip. “I’ve never done this before for a ghost, but I’m going to send out a matchmaking SOS into the afterlife plane for you and we’ll see what it kicks up.”

  Guinevere’s face was glowing with anticipation. “SOS?”

  Telling her it stood for Save Our Ship seemed imprudent, although probably applicable in this case. Her soul mate ship was going down. “Yeah, it’s a term for … show off your stuff. You know, to the guys out there looking for love. You want them to wine and dine you and sweep you off your feet, soul mate style.”

  “How long will it take before my love arrives?”

  There it was, timing. People, dead or alive, were always in a hurry for love.

  Love, however, never likes being rushed. “Time on your plane runs different than time here. Be patient. Enjoy whatever and whoever comes your way. Your soul mate is out there. It’s just a matter of keeping an open mind.”

  She held up the romance novel. “And will he look like this?”

  Visual presentation had a lot to do with sexual chemistry. Sexual chemistry, while not always the best magic, still made the world of love go round. “Like I said, keep your mind open. Even if he doesn’t look like that on the outside, he may be perfect on the inside.”

  Guin tilted her head, clearly not understanding my attempt at the clichéd don’t judge a book by its cover. And in all honestly, the outside package was pretty damn important to me, too, so I didn’t push the concept. Let’s be real. We all like the gorgeous six-pack and muscled chest on the romance books as much as we love the happily-ever-after story inside.

  I wasn’t sure Guin was really looking for happily-ever-after anyway. She’d loved Lancelot, that was obvious, and he’d broken her heart. Seemed to me she was after a good time and some fun.

  While I didn’t blame her, I secretly thought she’d get more out of reading the romance novels than dating the dead.

  “What if no one shows up?” she asked, holding the book to her chest. Her bottom lip quivered. “What if I’m alone for all eternity?”

  Forget eternity. Another ten minutes and she’d be stuck in my condo for the next year. I had the feeling I’d kill myself before Samhain rolled around again if that happened. “You won’t be alone for long, I promise. You’re beautiful, smart, and—” multiple personality disorder aside “—you have a lot going for you.”

  The queen in her rose to the surface. “You are correct. Any man would be lucky to have me.”

  I checked the grandfather clock in the corner, saw the time and nearly jumped out of my skin. “All righty then. You skedaddle and let me get to work.” I smiled my everything’s going to work out fine smile and made shooing motions. “Good luck.”

  She grabbed the books, took one last sip of wine and smiled back. “Thank you, matchmaker.”

  With that she disapp
eared, sending a cool breeze and a deep chill rolling over my skin.

  I sighed, sat back down. Five minutes before the hour struck. I relit the candles, closed my eyes, and sent the SOS out for Guin. Then I called on Owanna, thanking her for her faith in me and asking for her help with Gabriel.

  The first bong of the clock echoed in the room as it struck midnight. With it, a ghost man appeared inside the circle, reaching for me and promising to love me forever. He looked and sounded like some kind of Scottish Highlander with no shirt, a definite six-pack and a steel sword. Without warning, he pointed the tip of the weapon at me and started popping the buttons off my shirt.

  I screeched and jerked back while another bong resounded and a second ghost appeared. This one was a knight in—you guessed it—shining armor, who got down on one knee (which looked uncomfortable and awkward in that armor) and pledged his allegiance to me.

  A third bong and a third ghost. A GI Joe-type sporting pecs the size of dinner plates and a pair of army fatigues. Not to be outdone by his colleagues, he leapt over the salt ring and planted a hard, demanding kiss on my lips…

  Holy hexes. The romance book covers had come to life.

  At the exact moment Gabriel, fallen archangel and possibly the love of my life, walked in and stopped dead in his tracks. Seeing the three ghosts all in various modes of nakedness and all trying to seduce me, he spread his massive wings, rippled them in angelic anger, turned on his heel and disappeared.

  And the clock continued to bong in the corner, sealing my destiny with every swing of the pendulum.

  Chapter Three

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I said, fighting off the three ghosts.

  I shoved GI Joe backwards, smacked the Highlander’s sword out of the way and yelled at all of them to knock it off. Midnight was only three bongs away. “Get back in the circle! All of you. Back!”

  I pushed, I elbowed, I jostled. I even threatened their respective manhoods. It was like threatening and pushing three mountains. They didn’t budge.

  The clock struck midnight and my heart thudded woodenly in my chest.

  Satan’s balls. What have I done?

  All three of the ghosts now seemed more flesh and blood than spectral. All of them looked like they were hungry for a steak and that steak was me.

  I shivered, slowly circling them, my brain frantically trying to figure out what had happened and how to fix it. My SOS had obviously backfired. Instead of the men finding Guin and romancing her, they’d come for me. Worse, Gabe now thought I was hooking up behind his back. With ghosts no less.

  Eww.

  While all three guys were book-cover worthy, even if they had been real, none of them were as breathtakingly gorgeous as my archangel. None of them were as mysterious and exciting as him, either.

  I wanted to run after Gabe, explain it all to him, but I didn’t trust the ghosts not to follow me or cause trouble. Spirits bind to the spell castor and even though I hadn’t technically performed a matchmaking spell, that’s what had happened.

  I grabbed the Highlander’s sword and commanded them to lay their right hands on it. Since they were all warriors, they respected such a weapon and any vow made over it. Once they were all touching the metal, I spoke the only binding spell I could think of on short notice and hoped it would cover all three of them. “The blade of your god seals your spirit inside. Be one with the sword and within the sword reside.”

  With looks of surprise, all three ghosts returned to their white, wispy spirits once more, the sword sucking them into its cold, hard steel.

  Relieved, I laid the sword aside and destroyed the spirit circle, sweeping up the salt, pouring the oil down the kitchen drain and tucking the black cloth away until next Samhain. No way was I chancing any more ghosts hopping the train bound for Keisha-ville.

  Now to find Gabe and explain.

  Tracking him down wasn’t difficult. He lived at Amy’s ice cream shop in one of the back rooms. Amy had been generous enough to allow him to stay there, so I’d gotten him a bed and a TV, and along with unlimited trips to the ice cream freezer, he seemed happy. I’d been thinking about suggesting he move in with me at my condo, but so far, I hadn’t worked up the nerve. It was a big step and he had yet to say he loved me.

  I used my key to let myself into Evie’s Ice Cream Parlor through the back door. Gabe was in his room as I suspected, but the TV wasn’t on and there was no bowl of double chocolate fudge in his hands. He sat in the dark, staring at the wall, a slight glow emanating from his angelic body.

  A body I very much wanted next to me when I woke up in the morning.

  Gabriel is seven feet tall with long, golden hair, deep blue eyes, and a wing span that rivals the Grand Canyon. As Amy liked to say, he was a Greek god on steroids.

  He never talked much, except to Lucifer, and he didn’t care about the mundane goings-on in the human world. For some reason, I found that reassuring. Things at the shop were always screwed up and life took some interesting, and sometimes scary, turns when you lived and worked with witches, the devil, and assorted other biblical characters running around.

  But none of that bothered Gabe.

  His faults were numerous, don’t get me wrong. Having been an archangel, he was used to having his way and being the center of attention, which sometimes made him act like a spoiled five-year-old. Since he was also somewhat clueless as how to live among humans that five-year-old in him was charming and cute as well. Since I had a few dozen faults of my own, I’d accepted his with ease. In turn, he’d accepted mine. A rare occurrence in my life.

  Archangel, human or ghost, a male was a male. I jammed the point of the sword into the floor in front of him and watched his eyes light up at the sight of the beautiful weapon. “This is for you,” I said.

  He reached out and stroked the hilt, the sword quivering at this touch. His eyes narrowed at the corners. “There are souls inside this weapon.”

  “The men you saw with me earlier. They’re ghosts, and now they need your help to return to the afterlife.”

  Dropping his hand, he turned his head and stared at the wall again. A silent dismissal.

  Dismissal my ass. If he was going to play the jilted lover, he could sit there and hear me out.

  I spilled everything. Owanna’s no-show, Guin’s appearance and demand for help. My SOS to the spirit world. “My magic. It backfired. Those ghost men were meant for Guinevere, not me. Everything went wrong. Terribly wrong. And now those men are trapped here until next Samhain unless you help them.”

  Gabe cut his gaze to mine, studied my face, and then studied the sword. He reached out, plucked it from its place and ran his fingertips over the steel. The metal glowed. Closing his eyes, he murmured something in an old language and the Highlander appeared.

  The second he laid eyes on me, the Highlander stepped forward and reached out, calling me his wench and listing off the things he wanted to do to my body.

  And they say romance is dead.

  Gabriel pointed the tip of the sword at the man’s Adam’s apple. The Highlander froze, hands still reaching for me.

  I slapped his hands away. “Knock it off, He-Man. Women only like that crap in romance novels. In real life, it’s fine to be masterful, but no nasty name-calling and ease up on the forced seduction. It’s not sexy, it’s offensive. You need to woo a woman, not act like she’s your slave.”

  Gabriel laid a hand on the man’s forehead, which was crinkled with confusion over my instructions. “Remove this wayward spirit from my sight. Return him to his world this night.”

  The Highlander faded into nothingness, still seeming perplexed. Whether it was over my lightning fast matchmaking lesson or Gabe’s sending him back to the spirit plane, I’d never know.

  Next came the knight in shining armor. He had dark features and lively eyes, reminding me of Guin’s description of Lancelot. Before Gabriel could send him back, I raised a hand to stop the exorcism. “Are you Lancelot?”

  A surprised expression lit his face.
“Aye.”

  Whoa. Way cool. “I’m a big fan,” I said and held out a hand to shake his.

  Gabe frowned at me and I dropped my hand. “When you get back to where you came from, keep an eye out for Guinevere. She’s there, you know, and she’s still in love with you. All you need to do is say you’re sorry for leaving her in that tower and bring her some blackberry wine.”

  Lancelot lifted a brow. “Guinevere dost still love me?”

  “She has a few anger issues over you abandoning her, but she’ll get over it if you romance her and beg for forgiveness. I saw it in her eyes. She’ll come around. I guarantee it.”

  He smiled and dipped his head. “I thank thee.”

  I patted him on the shoulder and gave Gabriel a thumbs up. Two seconds later, Lancelot disappeared.

  Last, but not least, was GI Joe.

  “You,” I said, “need to take it down about ten notches. Kissing is great, but wait for the woman to give you the right signals, okay? Don’t assume that just because you’re a big, strong soldier, she’s going to be attracted to you. You need to get to know the woman before you Go Army on her, got it?”

  He looked abashed. Which was very cute for such a testosterone-packed guy. “Sorry.”

  Gabriel rolled his eyes and sent GI Joe to the beyond.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the sword from Gabe’s hand. He was back to staring at the wall, wings quivering slightly with some emotion I couldn’t read. “You understand that it was all a bad mistake, right? That my magic backfired and those guys were meant for Guin, not me?”

  No response.

  Damn. I’d screwed up and a simple explanation apparently wasn’t going to fix this. Maybe Amy was right and Owanna hadn’t shown up because she didn’t approve of Gabe and me. More likely, she knew he wasn’t my soul mate and didn’t want to break my heart.

  Gabe’s voice was low and controlled as he spoke. “Your magic didn’t backfire.”

  Confused, I frowned at him. “Those men were meant for Guinevere, not me.”

  He took the sword from my hands, looked down into my eyes. “Your matchmaking skills are superb, as are your magical abilities.”