“Taking you in for some of um that,” he replied.
The next thing he knew, a tall, built man wearing nothing but a towel was there, standing in the center of the room, in his path to the bedroom.
Missi scrambled out of Curt’s arms and gasped. “Blackbeard?”
That was Blackbeard?
The guy looked nothing like the portraits and drawings Curt had seen of the man in books. No. The guy looked like he was about to pose for the cover of a romance novel about falling for a pirate or something. The guy had long black hair that hung past his broad shoulders. He had a black beard that was close clipped to his jawline and silver earrings that lined both his ears. Various tattoos covered his chest and upper arms. Basically, he was the bad boy Curt heard women say they always wanted and he was standing in his mate’s living room basically naked. “I changed my mind. We’re so moving you to Everlasting if you have dead pirates who look like that appearing at random in your house, naked.”
The man eyed him. “Who are you?”
Missi put her hand on Blackbeard’s chest and Curt saw red. “Stop touching him!”
The outburst earned him the eyebrow-glare again.
“Please?” he asked, thankful his friends weren’t there to witness how he’d been neutered as well.
She groaned. “Blackbeard, meet Curt Warrick, my mate. Curt, meet Blackbeard, the pirate.”
Blackbeard tipped his head. “Mate? Seriously? Fate gave you a flashy guy?”
“Why does everyone think I’m flashy?” demanded Curt.
Missi and Blackbeard shared a look.
Blackbeard eyed him and then looked at Missi. “Warrick? Isn’t that Sigmund’s friend’s name? The one with too much money and time on his hands?”
Curt’s jaw set. “The one who is mated to the woman you’re currently naked and near.” He moved in quickly, pushing between Missi and the pirate. He then faced Blackbeard and found himself posturing, his lion on edge.
Missi tugged on Curt’s arm. “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “He popped in out of thin air, wearing only a towel, and I’m the one who is being ridiculous?”
She nodded. “Yes. And he’s never shown up in my apartment at all before let alone wearing nothing but a towel. I’m guessing he’s here for a good reason. Not to—” She blushed more.
“If he even thinks of um, that-ing with you, I’ll show him just how alpha I can be,” warned Curt.
Missi groaned. “Stop it. We’ve never done that. I have admired his chest from afar but I never, okay, shutting up now.”
Blackbeard laughed. “Does um that mean what I think it means here?”
“Yes,” stated Curt with a grunt.
“Stand down there, Warrick,” said Blackbeard. “I’m not here for that. I’ve known Mississippi since she was in her mother’s belly. She’s like family to me.”
Curt grinned, pleased with the response until he noticed his wife frowning. He did a double take. “Hey. Try not to look so glum that he doesn’t see you in that light. You’re a married woman.”
The eyebrow-glare returned. “Excuse me?”
Curt hadn’t been too worried about the death note until now. His mate looked as if she was more than capable of taking him out with a thought at the moment. “Honey, did I tell you I’m sorry lately? I am.”
Her lips twitched. “You’ve mentioned it once or twice today.”
“Yes. The alpha just rolls off you in waves,” said Blackbeard snidely. “Mississippi, can I speak with you privately?”
“No.” Curt crossed his arms over his chest.
Missi ignored his manly show and pushed around in front of him. “How did you get in past the wards? And why are you only in a towel? Where have you been? Why do cursed coins from your treasure keep showing up around Curt with different markings on them? Why did you issue a death note? You told me you didn’t practice dark magic anymore.”
Blackbeard stared down at Missi and then up at Curt and sneered. “I didn’t issue any death note or cursed coins, but I’m very much looking forward to figuring out who did.”
“Try not to look so happy,” snapped Curt.
“I would but why bother? I’ve known you five minutes and don’t much care for you,” returned Blackbeard.
Missi sighed. “Please try to get along.”
They nodded.
Blackbeard took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not sure what happened. All I know was that Flanks was being a pain in my backside again the other night and I was about to tell him where he could stick his suggestion box and property line when a massive amount of magic hit me. I came to face first on the shore and from what I could gather, I’d washed up there. I was missing my clothing. Like what happened when I was cursed into the bottle.”
Missi gasped. “Someone cast you out to sea with magic?”
“Not just out to sea, Mississippi,” said Blackbeard. “I think they sent me to one of my sunken treasure ships.”
“One? How many do you have?” asked Curt.
Blackbeard ignored him.
“How do you know?” asked Missi.
“Because I came to clutching one of the gold coins that are hidden in the wreckage. The treasure boxes they’re in are enchanted, to keep them pristine. Opening the boxes without me there to undo the spell would leave the coins within cursed. The curse doesn’t affect me since it’s my magic on them, but there is no telling what would happen to whoever ended up with the coins.”
Curt lifted a hand. “I started making change earlier.”
Blackbeard looked confused.
Curt reached into his pocket and withdrew the coin with the lion head and witch symbol on it.
Blackbeard snatched it out of his hand quickly. “What are you doing with this? How did you get it?”
“Listen, Not-So-Dead-Dude-In-A-Towel, I didn’t ask for that or the hundreds of others that started appearing around me at random all day.”
Blackbeard’s expression fell. “That would mean you were cursed.”
Missi sighed. “I kind of cursed him on top of that too.”
Blackbeard laughed.
Curt grunted.
Blackbeard eyed the coin once more. “And did you catch the part where I said were cursed?”
“As in past tense?” asked Curt.
Nodding, Blackbeard tossed the coin to him. “Look closer at it.”
Curt did and realized there was the smallest of markings on it. He peered at it and then tipped his head. “Is that Old English?”
Blackbeard inclined his head. “It is. Says your freed from the mark of death and ill will. Also says you’re joined to a powerful line of magics.”
Missi gasped and then threw herself at Curt, hugging him tight. “You’re not cursed anymore!”
He wrapped his arms around his wife and savored the feel of her. “Well, at least until you’re annoyed with me again.”
Blackbeard cleared his throat. “Can we maybe focus here a moment on who cursed you with my magic to start with? It wasn’t me. And I sure in the hell didn’t vanquish myself.”
“Mississippi? Lemon Drop, where are you?”
Curt tensed at the sound of a woman’s voice coming from the shop below.
“Mémé Marie-Claire, I’m coming!” yelled Missi, hurrying away from Curt in the direction of the stairs.
Blackbeard caught Curt’s arm before he could follow behind Missi. “Break her heart in any way and they’ll never recover your body. Am I clear?”
Curt grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
Blackbeard groaned and in the next second a large parrot came flying out from the back bedroom. It went right at Blackbeard and landed on the man’s bare shoulder. It began to whistle, and it took Curt a second to realize he recognized the song.
“Is your bird whistling a ZZ Top song?” asked Curt.
Blackbeard huffed. “Winston is not my bird. He’s your mate’s familiar. And yes, he’s a fan of classic
rock. He apparently thinks you’re flashy too since he’s whistling ‘Sharp Dressed Man.’”
Chapter Twelve
Missi hurried into the magic shop and stopped when she found her grandmother standing next to her father. The two generally avoided being around each other.
Fear raced through her. “Something happened to York, didn’t it?”
Her father sighed. “No, darlin’. York is fine. Sig and the rest of them radioed in. They found him. His boat ran into some issues and broke down. They’re workin’ on fixin’ it now. Ought to be back before two shakes of a stick.”
She exhaled and then smiled wide.
When she realized her father and grandmother weren’t smiling, she tensed. “What’s wrong? Is it about Curt?”
“Kind of,” said her grandmother, reaching up and adjusting her hair. It was long, wavy and big. It kept her closer to the Goddess that way. At least that was what she said. She didn’t look anywhere near her age—whatever that was. Missi never dared to ask. She did know that her grandmother didn’t look a day over fifty. A long chunk of stark white hair went through the crown of her otherwise dark hair. That was really the only sign she had any sort of age creeping up on her and she’d had that as long as Missi could remember.
Marie-Claire stood and smoothed the front of her long, flowing flowered dress. Countless beaded necklaces adorned her neck and matching bracelets filled her wrists, going partway up her arms. She and Missi dressed a lot alike, much to the dismay of Missi’s father. He’d never been too fond of the fact his youngest daughter took after his mother-in-law so much.
Missi looked between her father and grandmother. “What’s going on? Why are y’all here together? Y’all never go anywhere together. Mémé Marie-Claire, tell me you didn’t hex Daddy again. The last time you did it the lights and siren on his squad car wouldn’t shut off for nearly three days. And if that wasn’t bad enough, every time he opened the trunk, hundreds of frogs leapt out.
Mémé Marie-Claire looked proud of herself. “That was one of my better hexes.”
“Marie-Claire,” her father said sternly.
“What?” her grandmother asked as if she didn’t see the problem. “Admit it. It was a good one.”
“Marie-Claire?” asked Blackbeard, appearing in the magic shop with Curt right behind him.
Winston was on Blackbeard’s shoulder. He certainly looked every bit the pirate with the bird on his shoulder. Winston had always had a soft spot for the man and Blackbeard humored him.
Missi’s father’s eyes widened. “Blackbeard, why in tarnation are you missin’ your clothes and comin’ from my daughter’s apartment?”
“It’s not what you think,” said Curt, a serious look upon his handsome face.
Her father narrowed his gaze on Blackbeard and then glanced from him to her grandmother and back again. “I think you found yourself magically thrust out of the town limits, naked as a jaybird—just like what happened when you got put in that bottle—and figured out your magic and treasure had been tampered with and gone sideways. I’m guessin’ the minute you were able, you latched on to the trail of your magic, and found yourself standing in my daughter’s apartment, near the cat-shifter.”
Curt rubbed his chin. “Never mind. It’s exactly what you think. You have got to tell me how you do that.”
Her father opened his mouth and then closed it fast, sniffing the air, his eyes swirling to look a lot like an alligator’s. It was a sign he was good and mad. He pointed at Curt. “You claimed her! I said you weren’t allowed to touch her. Not until she was like eighty or somethin’. I warned you. I told you I’d take you out to the swamps. Boy, have you got any sense up in that Yankee brain of yours? It’s like the wheel is spinnin’ but the hamster is dead.”
Curt’s gaze went to the cat toy section that he was near. A lazy smile came to his face.
Mémé laughed and tried to cover it with a cough.
Her father tried to go at Curt only to find Blackbeard stepping in his path and grabbing a hold of him. With both hands on her father, nothing was holding up Blackbeard’s towel. It fell to the floor.
Missi gasped in surprise.
She and her grandmother tipped their heads, looks of admiration on their faces, as they stared at the pirate who was wearing only a parrot on his shoulder.
The shop door opened. Jasmine hurried in with Missi’s mother and Ms. Cherry. All three women stopped in their tracks, tipped their heads, as well and soaked in the sight of the very naked pirate.
Winston picked that moment to start whistling Rod Stewart’s “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy.” Her familiar may have been a bully, but he had an uncanny ability to pick a song for the moment.
Her father set his sights on her. “Young lady, control your bird.”
“Nonsense,” said Mémé Marie-Claire. “He’s fine. Very, very fine.”
“Mother, are you still talking about the bird?” asked Missi’s mom, her gaze moving to Blackbeard. “My goodness, he is very fine indeed.”
Her father looked up. “It’s a wonder I make it through an entire day without pullin’ my hair out.”
“Look at it this way, Walden,” said Mémé Marie-Claire. “Statistically, you’re going to lose your hair anyway. Eventually.”
“Mississippi!” shouted Curt, moving around Blackbeard and coming right for her.
Her father turned and when he spotted his wife staring at a naked pirate, he did a double take. “Murielle!”
Blackbeard bent and retrieved his towel slowly, as if standing in front of a room full of women with only a parrot on his shoulder wasn’t out of the realm of normal. He wrapped the towel around himself and all the women sighed.
“Shame to cover that,” said Mémé Marie-Claire.
“I agree,” said Missi.
Missi’s mother laughed. “It is, isn’t it? Curt is very attractive. We should ask to see him without his shirt on. Mississippi would know what he looks like under the flashy clothes. Can you sense it in the air? They’re mated now.”
Curt caught Missi around the waist and drew her against him. His lip found her ear. “Can you not gawk at dead pirate guys, please?”
She snorted. “I’ll do my best.”
“It’s a big ask,” said her grandmother.
Blackbeard grumbled. “I prefer the term formally-living.”
Her father rubbed his brow, looking tired. “You women are gonna be the death of me.”
“We can only hope,” said Mémé Marie-Claire.
Her father’s jaw set. “Marie-Claire, you need to tell them what you told me.”
“Mémé?” asked Missi, her arm snaking around Curt’s waist.
Curt kissed her temple and pressed his lips to her ear. “I’d like it known I’m a hunky specimen of man meat. I’ll show you later.”
“I can hear you, Warrick,” warned her father.
Curt gulped. “Sorry, Dad.”
Her father cringed.
Mémé Marie-Claire clasped her hands. “Before anyone goes getting their panties in a wad, know that this came from a place of love.”
“Mother?” asked Missi’s mom, concern in her voice. “Frogs aren’t going to start magically appearing in the trunk of my husband’s squad car again, are they?”
Jasmine and Ms. Cherry moved over to stand near the register, staying quiet.
Mémé Marie-Claire cleared her throat. “I’m not getting any younger and I want to see my grandbabies happy, with families of their own. I want to know the Caillat witch line will continue on and not end because the youngest generation is in no hurry to find their chosen ones. Since their father is in no hurry to get them mated off either, I thought I’d take matters into my own hands.”
Missi’s stomach sank. She was sure she wasn’t going to like whatever it was her grandmother had done. “Mémé, what did you do?”
Mémé Marie-Claire bit her lower lip and then straightened her shoulders. “I might have tapped into some powerful magic to cast a spell to help each
of you connect with your mates. Jasmine, I know you’re not blood, but you’re like a granddaughter to me so I included you.”
“Um, thanks,” said Jasmine, casting Missi a desperate look.
Missi’s mother sighed. “Oh Mother. No. Tell me you didn’t.”
“I did. I thought I had everything I needed and then I got to thinking about what happened years ago—when I cursed the man I cared for—and I just, well I wasn’t paying attention. I got worked up emotionally and my tears mixed into the spell. The spell got away from me. At the same moment there was other power in the air.”
Blackbeard gasped. “Flanks and I were drawing on our magics when we were arguing.”
Ms. Cherry lifted her hand. “I was usin’ magic to help me find the perfect way to get Rockey out of the theater for good. I didn’t do it, mind you. I swear. I was only lookin’. I got the list of what I needed and bought it from the shop, but I didn’t banish him. Yet. The old-goat is still there, poutin’.”
Missi touched her forehead. “You’re telling me that four magics combined at once?”
Mémé Marie-Claire nodded. “Yes. And the end result was pandemonium in the magical sense of the word. I think I might have inadvertently cursed each of my grandchildren and their future mates. Since I put a stipulation on the spell about mating, the spell and curses can only be lifted once the true mates’ hearts are one.”
Missi thought about the strange magic she’d felt when she and Curt had first kissed. She realized then that had been the curse breaking.
Her father grunted. “So my baby nearly got run over and ended up with a cat-shifter because you wanted to be a great-grandmother?”
“Don’t sound so excited to have me as part of the family there, Sheriff,” said Curt with a wink. “People will start to talk.”
Mémé Marie-Claire smiled. “I barely know you and I already like you. The more Walden dislikes you, the closer to my heart you’ll be.”
“What you’re saying is that I’m now you’re favorite, right?” asked Curt, nodding to Missi’s father. “Since he really does not care for me touching his baby girl.”
Missi’s mother laughed softly. “Curt, you’re going to do just fine as a member of the family now. That is, so long as you don’t try to drag his baby far from Hedgewitch Cove.”
Don’t Stop Bewitching_A Happily Everlasting Series World Novel Page 13