“Yeah,” Immie shouted. “Find Tabor. Bring him here.”
What am I? Lassie?
“You want me to get my face eaten off by Mr. Personality over here?”
Fine! I’m going, but if he kills you before I get back with the big tub ‘o fur, I’m going to haunt you into eternity. She popped out of the cave.
Immie drew on her magic. Blue flames lighting up her arms as she called for water. A large water ball formed in her hands. She used all her might to throw it with force. It hit the creature, but it barely moved him. The place was so oily and gassy, fire magic might or might not kill her attacker, but it would certainly barbeque her and the Great Ash’s roots in the process. She tried lightning next. The bolt hit the ginormous turd and sizzled.
He rubbed his belly. “That tingled in a good way, witch.”
Immie’s eyes widened. It spoke! “What do you want?”
“I want to live, you greedy spellcaster.”
Immie could feel the sickness of his magic tainting her own. She needed to transport out of there. Even if it meant she ended up in the middle of the Pacific Ocean or stuck in a New Kids on the Block concert.
“Take me to a place out there,
To the people who about me care.
Get me far from this ape—”
A pile of slop hit her in the mouth.
“None of that, creator. The tree has been dinner, but you are the perfect dessert. You’ll stay so that I can dine on your essence.”
Immie spit out the oily gunk that tasted like rotten spinach and had the consistency of lumpy pudding. Blech. Her gag reflex kicked in, and she coughed out the sludge. “Dude. Consider a spa day. You’re disgusting.”
“Try to cast another spell, and you’ll get more than that shoved in your mouth.”
“Oh, please. You call that a threat? Maybe you should go back to villain school.” She glanced round the large cavern. She couldn’t defeat him on her own, and she wasn’t going to let him near the Great Ash—or unleash his ugly ass on the town of Wild. Tabor could probably crush this prick flat in less than a minute. But until he got here, she had to distract Poopy McPoopPants. “Why are you killing the Great Ash? What did it ever to do you?”
For a moment, Immie thought the Poopmeister might just strike her down, but lucky for her, he wanted to have a therapy session before he murdered her.
“I once had my own Great Ash,” he said. “But I discovered the more she pulled from me, the weaker I became. She was feeding on me. Me! A tree imp like no other. I was her fuel for five hundred years. Me giving. Her taking. Your kind going about your business as if I wasn’t worth a single consideration.”
He held out his muddy hand, and Immie felt him pull the energy right out of her. A greenish-gold light snaked out of her abdomen and pierced his palm. He put up his other hand, and a noxious stream of black smoke broke through his skin and slithered into her mouth. As he took the good from her and shoved in the bad, his corrupt magic made nausea roil in her stomach.
Immie felt herself weakening. The tree imp sure liked to crow about himself. Keep him talking, Immie. Tabor will be here soon. “You killed your tree? You should be ashamed.”
“No. I’m proud.” His red eyes sparkled with sick excitement. “I paid attention to how the Ash would drain me every day. Not enough to kill me, but enough to keep me low. Keep me its slave! And then, I turned the tables. I began to draw the Ash’s magic into me. I became more powerful than all the supernatural creatures around Mudslump, Mississippi.” He shook his head, but not with regret. “It died too quickly. After all, it only had me to eat from. But here, the Great Ash didn’t have an imp. No, it traded energy with all the witches and Shifters in the area.” He flexed his gloppy fists. “Its power was easy to steal!”
Immie’s head felt fuzzy. It was getting difficult to form coherent thoughts. “So you chose greed and loneliness over love and companionship?”
The imp frowned. It was clear he didn’t appreciate her analogy. He pumped up the process of trading her creator magic with his toxic drudge. Her skin turned black and she swore she could feel her lungs shrinking. The ethereal place within her where she tapped into to her creator gifts cracked open and he began to drain her in earnest. Tears leaked from her eyes as she thought of Tabor. Finally, she’d found a man who wanted to be with her, love her, despite her curse, and she wasn’t going to survive to mate with him.
As her peripheral vision dimmed, she did something she never thought she’d do—pray for Dorcas to help her. Hurry, you old bitty. Hurry, before…
Everything went black.
Chapter Nine
Tabor slammed his palm against the tree. How the fuck was he supposed to get to Immie? His heart raced as fear poured over him, chilling him to the bone. Think, Tabor. The nearest cave entrance was miles away. Even if he got there quickly, he wouldn’t have any idea how to get to Immie. The caverns were endless. It was easy to get lost in all the twists and turns. More than one Wild citizen had died while trying to explore the place. And that’s why the caves were off-limits.
Something hard slammed into the back of his head. “Ow!” He turned around and saw a rock hovering near his knees. “Who threw that?”
The rock dropped onto his foot. He yelped and hopped up on one leg. Then he watched a twig rise from the ground. It tipped up and then started scraping in the dirt. Then he realized what was happening. “Dorcas?”
The stick jabbed at the dirt and spelled out: Yes. Moron.
“Where’s Immie?”
Dorcas, or so he assumed, scratched away the first note and scribbled a second: Follow me.
“How am I supposed to do that?” he asked. “I can’t see you.”
Underneath “follow me” Dorcas wrote: U R Stupid.
“Quit fucking around Dorcas.”
The thin branch whipped through the air and smacked him on the ass. “Shit!” The whack really stung. Then the stick, moving up and down like a baton, started moving away from the Great Ash.
Tabor didn’t know what Dorcas’ intentions were, but he had to believe she was leading him to Immie. He figured his second form would be more useful when it came to rescuing his mate. He shifted into his bear and then loped behind the bobbing sprig. Hang on, Immie!
Dorcas led him down an embankment. When it rained hard, this channel filled up with water. Right now, it was dry, which turned out to be a good thing. The stick pointed at a stack of broken limbs and forest debris. As a bear, it took maybe 3.5 seconds from him to destroy the blockage and enter the cave.
He hadn’t known about this little passage, and he was grateful the ghost had somehow discovered it. Once again, the twig bobbed in front of him. The cave walls were dotted with glowing green plants, which offered enough light to navigate through the tunnels.
Then he saw Immie.
And the creature crouched over her.
Tabor watched as the ugly son-of-a-bitch sucked in Immie’s beautiful green-gold magic. The color of plants. Of life. Of her. His mate. Worse yet, the creature was emitting a noxious black cloud that swirled into Immie’s mouth.
Tabor roared and galloped toward the monster. He reared up on his hind legs and struck the decaying piece of shit full on in the chest. It rolled off Immie, its grin dripping black poison as it got to its feet. It rushed Tabor, but he caught the stinky bastard between his paws and began to squeeze. It squealed and screamed. Tabor was worried sick about Immie and furious this thing had hurt her. Tabor swung the slippery piece of trash out and let go, slamming it as hard as he could against the cave wall. The creature slid down to the ground and lay still.
Within moments, Tabor shifted back into his human form and hurried to kneel by Immie’s side. She looked pale—as if every drop of blood had been drained from her. Her green eyes were filled with pain and her breathing turned thready. He was losing her.
He stroked her hair. His voice choked as he said, “Stay with me, Immie. Stay with me.”
She offered one last smile an
d then released her final breath.
* * *
Liz sat on the couch between Eden and Erin watching cartoons as they ate chocolate-chip cookies. Pain slammed into her so hard she wretched to her feet, her frill opening to its full display. “Something’s wrong with Immie,” she said.
Rhoda remained in the kitchen cleaning up after the baking frenzy. Liz could hear on the phone, talking to a friend about a town barbecue for the Fourth of July. “Gotta go, mates. Immie needs me.”
“She needs us, too,” said the girls together. Then they put their hands on Liz and poofed out of the living room.
* * *
One minute Dorcas was hovering above Immie watching Tabor pull the witch onto his lap while he sobbed and the next she was here. She looked around and saw nothing. She floated in a space that had no walls, no doors, no anything. It was just a great big endless sea of white.
“Dorcas.” She whirled around and saw Deliverance Fucking Hobbs gliding in her direction. She looked about the same as she had the last time Dorcas had seen her alive. Graying brown hair poked out from white bonnet, an austere indigo dress covered her stick-like body, and she wore black leather buckle shoes. The only thing different was the glittering gold key on a chain around her neck.
“Well, you haven’t changed in four-hundred-years,” said Dorcas.
“Neither have you.” Deliverance offered a thin smile. “How are you?”
“How am I? I’m dead. Where the hell are we?”
“Think of it as a waiting room.”
“Wait. Oh, my Goddess. Did Immie die?”
Deliverance tilted her head. “Would you care if she did?”
“Of course I would,” snapped Dorcas. “She’s too young to pass away. She got this bear Shifter and these two little brats she kinda likes. And what would Liz do without her?”
“Hmm.” Deliverance spread out her hands in supplication. “I’m sorry, Dorcas. There’s really nothing I can do. You’re here because Immie will depart the earthly plane very soon. It’s time for you to move on into the next realm.”
“You can take the next realm and shove it up your puckered asshole.” Dorcas pointed at her. “You get me back to Immie and you do it now.”
“Same old bossy bitch.” Deliverance drew herself up in the same snooty way Dorcas remembered and said, “You always think the rules don’t apply to you.”
“Because they don’t.” Dorcas’ gaze was once again drawn to the gold key. “What is that?”
“I’m a steward here. This allows me to move between worlds so I can help souls transition.”
“Can you use it to go back to Earth?”
“I suppose. But nobody goes back, Dorcas. If you leave this realm and return to Earth, you’ll be stuck there forever. You don’t get a second chance to die.”
“Dying’s overrated.” Dorcas reached over and yanked the chain off Deliverance’s neck. The minute she held the key in her hand, a blue and green door appeared.
“Give that back!” yelled Deliverance. “Dorcas, don’t you dare step through that door!”
Dorcas tossed the key at Deliverance, who caught it easily. Then she flipped her nemesis the bird and dove through the door.
* * *
When Dorcas arrived back in the cave, she saw Tabor, the twins from hell, and Liz surrounding the limp body of Immie. Agitated, she rushed forward and lowered herself in the middle of the circle.
Immie lay on the ground, pale from the imp’s attack. She couldn’t believe that witch had the nerve to die on her. She reached down and smacked her cheek. Hey, lazy bones, wake up.
“She’s not dead,” said Eden. She sat down and placed her arm on Immie’s shoulder.
“If we help her, she’ll live.” Erin sat next to her sister and put her hand on Immie’s hip. Dorcas saw the tears in Liz’s eyes.
Don’t just sit there, you scaly bitch. Do something.
“I feel empty,” said Liz. “Our connection is gone. She’s not there, Dorcas.”
Well, you might as well give the fuck up then, right? Pussy.
Liz sniffled. “Shut up.” She crawled onto Immie’s chest and lay down. On the other side of Immie sat Tabor. He looked shell-shocked.
Hey. Little girls. Tell Tabor to suck it up. Then tell him he has to bring that shit pile over here.
Eden and Erin conveyed the message.
“Dorcas, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” asked Tabor.
Hell, no, but I’ve never let that stop me.
Once the twins had repeated her words, Tabor gently put Immie on the ground. He rose to his feet and traipsed to the prone imp. He looked and smelled horrible. Much to Tabor’s surprise and disgust, the creature still lived. He wanted to punch a hole in it and pull out its guts.
He lay the thing near Immie. “Now what?”
Girls, put one of your hands on Slime Boy and the other on Immie. Tell Tabor to do it, too. Immie’s going to need all the life force she can get.
Once everyone was settled, Dorcas looked at the girls. Say this spell:
What was lost
Must now be gained
What was wild
Must now be tamed
Help us now to conquer fear
Return to us our sister dear
Everybody kept still and quiet waiting for the spell to work. Dorcas prayed harder than she ever had that the Goddess would return Immie to life.
Nothing happened.
Liz broke the silence first with her sobs. The kids looked at Dorcas, their gazes filling with sadness. And Tabor—poor bear Shifter—held on to Immie’s hand tightly. He didn’t want to let her go.
Nobody in this cave wanted Immie to leave.
“Holy Goddess!” yelled a female voice. “What is that smell? Did someone shit themselves?”
Dorcas whirled and saw Zelda, dressed in Prada from head to toe, and Baba Yaga, dressed in the same outfit Madonna wore on that infamous MTV appearance when she sang “Like a Virgin.”
“Looks like we got her just in time,” said Baba Yaga.
Wrong, you asstwit! She’s dead. Your timing sucks.
“Shut up, Dorcas,” said Baba Yaga.
Zelda gagged. “Seriously. Can you smell that? I can taste it—that’s how rank it is.”
The source of the smell regained consciousness and rose to its sloppy feet. Its red eyes had nothing but hatred in them as it stepped toward the group of witches, growling.
“Aaaaaaahhhh!” screamed Zelda. She lifted her palms and released two fireballs, one red and the other green. They hit the tree imp with the force of a bomb.
It exploded.
Baba Yaga lifted her palms and within seconds, a protective bubble appeared around the group. Sludge and gunk smacked wetly against the force field, and slid down the bubble leaving skid marks everywhere.
Zelda bent at the waist, inhaling deep breaths, probably so she wouldn’t yark. “What the fuck was that thing?”
An evil tree imp with an inferiority complex and a disturbing fetish for poop. Dorcas pointed at Baba Yaga. Your turn. Save Immie.
Baba Yaga swiped her hand over her head and the bubble disappeared. The stench was gag-inducing. Baba Yaga blew out a steadying breath.
Swirling above them was a huge pool of gold and green magic. The power of it was immense. Even Dorcas could feel it pulse with life. This was good magic. One of health and love and happiness.
“I’ll need everyone to make this work,” said Baba Yaga. “Surround Immie, put your hands on her, think positive thoughts, and repeat after me:
“Power above
Witch below
Goddess of love
Pure of soul
Grant dominion now
To the one you adore
She becomes the bough
She becomes the core
The protector of secrets
The guardian of truth
The newest priestess
The witches’ sooth
If dear Goddess you agree
/> Then as of now, so mote it be.”
The magic swirling above them reformed into a tornado of green and gold light. The funnel swirled toward Immie and then dove inside her. The force of the impact blew everyone backwards.
The brilliant light was blinding.
Then it disappeared.
All that was left was Immie. She awoke and sat up. A wide streak of green had appeared on the left side of her head and her eyes glowed gold with an otherworldly power.
Baba Yaga got to her feet and grinned. “Everyone, meet the new Great Ash.”
Chapter Ten
Two days later…
“We have the cabin to ourselves. Even Dorcas is giving us privacy,” said Tabor.
He lay in the huge king-sized mattress next to her, deliciously naked. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing, either. All the better to ravish you with, m’dear, Immie thought.
She smiled. She felt utterly amazing. Becoming the Great Ash wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. She was still getting used to her new powers, not to mention her new hairstyle. Tabor had been with her every step of the way.
“I’m glad the girls are staying with us,” she said. “We really can protect them the best.”
“Between a bear Shifter, a kick-ass creator witch, and an ornery familiar—yeah, I think we’re the best bet for Eden and Erin.”
She grinned. “Damn skippy.”
After she awoke from the transformation, she knew two things: She’d found her purpose. And she’d found her mate.
Now, it was time to pledge their lives, and their love, to each other.
Tabor lay on his side and Immie lay on her back. Trembling with unquenchable desire, she stared at him. He studied her with slow deliberation, touching her with his gaze before even laying a finger on her. As his brown eyes wandered down the curve of her neck to her aching breasts, her nipples hardened and sent tingles of pleasure straight to her groin. She clenched her hands into fists as he continued his perusal down to the vee of her thighs, then her legs. Even her feet didn’t escape the heat of his gaze.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “My mate.”
She had no words—couldn’t find words to describe how she felt. Without touching her, he had made white-hot passion burn through her. With his thumb, he pressed against the throbbing nub between her thighs. She gasped at the sudden touch and his uncanny accuracy. He stroked her as he leaned down. She felt his breath on her neck, knew his mouth was only inches away. The smell of fresh-cut grass and sun-warmed soil swirled around her, making her hotter than ever.
Magic and Mayhem: Sh*t My Witch Says (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Witches Gone Wild Book 1) Page 6