Curses!

by J. A. Kazimer

  “Knew it was you,” he whispered.

  The queen rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment.

  The temple door opened. I shoved the beanie back on my head. The sheriff walked in, arm in arm with my princess. Asia wore a serene smile and a bridesmaid’s dress of the brightest jade. The color matched her flame-colored hair and attitude perfectly. My legs started to move of their own volition. I took a step toward her, wanting nothing more than to scoop her into my arms and run, not walk, to the nearest tower.

  Bruce’s thick fingers curled around Asia’s upper arm. Jealous rage filled me. Nobody touched my princess. My vision went red. My hands fisted. I would kill the sheriff, and then I would kill him all over again. And again.

  Third time’s a charm.

  Asia giggled, and like an elixir, my rage dampened at the sound. Get a grip, I reminded myself. There was work to be done. First, I had to tell Charming that Dru ran off with the butler. And while he was recovering from the shock, I needed to find a way to free Asia.

  Not to mention unmask a killer, which by this time seemed like an endless process. Hell, I was ready to throw in the towel, accuse Charming out of hand, and get the hell out of Maledetto. After all, Charming had likely committed some misdeed in his charmed life—definitely, if one considered stupidity a crime.

  Asia and Bruce arrived at the altar. My eyes drank in the Popsicle-icious sight of her. My body hardened. Charming cleared his throat, a signal to start the Wedding March. The first tinkling of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand, but Nothing Else” began.

  “Charming,” I called. “Wait.”

  All eyes turned toward the back of the church.

  Nothing happened.

  The song ended.

  Charming’s smile faltered. He cleared his throat again. The organ player sighed, but did as ordered. Again, music boomed from the instrument. This time about half the people in the temple turned to the door.

  Again, Dru failed to appear.

  Asia caught my eye, nodding toward Charming. I shrugged. She shook her head, as if disgusted by the male species. “Tell him,” she mouthed.

  “I tried,” I mouthed back.

  She rolled her eyes. “Some villain you are,” she said, and then cleared her throat to gain Charming’s attention. He glanced her way, his smile growing wider. “I’m sorry, Charming.” Asia grimaced. “Dru left.”

  “Left?” Charming tilted his head like a puppy. “Left what? I’m sure if we all try we can find whatever she misplaced.” As his words trailed off, he dropped to his knees, running his fingers along the carpet. “Come on, help me look,” he said to the wedding guests. They stared back at him in horror.

  Only the ever-faithful Bruce willingly fell to his knees to aid Charming in his search. Unfortunately, Asia, handcuffed to the sheriff, fell to her knees too. The side of her tight bridesmaid dress split wide open, showing off pale perfect skin. Pale perfect skin of my princess!

  I ran down the pulpit steps and lifted Asia to her feet, trying to block her exposed parts with my beanie. Thanks to Newton’s Third Law and a pair of steel bracelets, the sheriff bounded to his feet as well.

  “Hey, it’s you,” he said, waving his uncuffed arm in my face. “You are under arrest!”

  I punched him in the nose.

  In hindsight, punching the guy handcuffed to my ladylove wasn’t the best move, for a couple of reasons. But mainly because the sheriff flew backward, landing three pews into the vestibule. Asia, of course, followed, her legs dangling in the air, her dress sliding down her body and over her head. Jade panties peeked out from between her long legs. I winced at her shrieks of anger, which grew louder as the seven dwarfs started to wolf-whistle in appreciation.

  Asia righted herself soon enough with the help from a much-too-eager henchman. The sheriff struggled to his feet too. I glanced between the still-crawling prince, the bloody and annoyed sheriff, and my nearly naked princess. For once in my life, I wanted to stay, to save the day, to right the wrongs, even those I caused. Nonetheless, one look into Asia’s burning eyes suggested I save myself from her wrath first and foremost.

  “Now, Asia ... ,” I said.

  “Get out of here. Now.”

  And I did, thanks in part to her order and my own well-developed sense of self-preservation. I ran toward the temple doors as if the devil himself was on my rabbi tails. Of course, it was merely the sheriff and his brand-new stun gun, which only felt like the fires of hell chasing me. My beanie flew out of my hand, causing the sheriff to dive for cover behind a pew of elderly guests. This allowed me enough time to hop the prone, prostrating prince and make a clean getaway.

  Sort of.

  I ran from the church and into the forest, deeper and deeper, until nothing looked even vaguely familiar. Then, and only then, did I stop to catch my breath, which led to a small nap, and eventually the dream ...

  I was standing at an altar dressed in the finest tuxedo I could steal. Next to me, in a gown of shimmering white, Asia stood with a veil over her beautiful face. In my dream, I vowed to love, honor, and obey her until my death. The priest pronounced us husband and wife, and it was time to kiss my bride. I lifted the veil from her face, and screamed, and screamed, and screamed some more....

  I awoke soaked in a cold sweat. The nightmare of Charming’s moronic and oddly furry face underneath Asia’s veil was one I wouldn’t soon forget. A shiver ripped through me.

  Picking myself up off my forest bed, I brushed at the pine needles clinging to my clothes, shedding them like the remnants of my dream. Impotent guilt, I thought. I failed to honor my promise to Dru to tell Charming about her abrupt departure, so the nightmare was union payback.

  Still, a piece of me wondered if the guilt was my own. I could’ve saved Charming from the public embarrassment of being left at the altar. But true to my villainous self, I didn’t. I smiled at the thought. Maybe my curse was finally withering.

  “Fudge,” I screamed into the silent forest. “Fork. Forget-me-not!”

  Or not.

  Damn.

  “Did you say something about teeth?” a chick in a red hood asked from behind a tree. She looked no older than ten, dressed in scarlet and carrying a blood-soaked ax. Not someone to be messed with.

  “Sorry. Must’ve been someone else.” I smiled and took a couple of steps back. “You know how the forest can echo.”

  “My, what big feet you have.” Her eyebrows rose.

  “Yeah. Ummm ... look, kid,” I began and then took off running. I’d read the New Never News articles about a little red-hooded serial killer too many times to be her eighth victim.

  I barreled my way through the forest, leaping over downed logs and ducking dive-bombing bluebirds. High-pitched, insane laughter followed me no matter how fast I ran.

  “My, my, what big ears you have!”

  I doubled my speed.

  “My, my, what big eyes you have!”

  Terror gave me added strength to run even faster.

  “My, my, what short legs you have!”

  I pulled to a stop. “Hey, my legs are not short. They’re average for a man of my size.”

  “Average for a short man maybe.” The crazy red-hooded bitch laughed. An ax flew over my head, missing my scalp by inches. It planted itself in a tree. Another burst of laughter followed.

  Fuck it. Now wasn’t the time to discuss the relativity of stature and the evils of the metric system. I took off running again, ducking and weaving through the Enchanted Forest like a big, not-so-nice wolf with a basket of fresh-baked goodies on his way to visit his nana.

  No matter how fast I ran, the red-hooded chick stayed right on my heels. I had to find a place to hide, somewhere that the crazy bitch would never find me. Ah, there, on the right. The pond where I’d first met Dru.

  Lungs bursting, I dove into a slime-coated pond with a splash. The water rippled and then settled, hiding me from my would-be ax murderer not yet tall enough to ride the Tea Toddler at Feyland. Above me, her apple-cheeked reflect
ion danced across the water, the shine of her ax glowing like a beacon.

  Trust me, the irony wasn’t lost on me. There I was, a world-famous villain, hiding from a little girl in red tights. Pathetic. No wonder the union gave me the boot.

  Chapter 43

  An hour later, shivering and covered in pond sludge, I dragged my body from the pond. Little Red had given up her murderous quest twenty minutes ago. But I’d stayed hidden in the weeds until I was sure the little serial killer wasn’t lying in wait for my head on her plate. When the toad at the edge of the pond croaked the all-clear sign, I pulled myself from the muck with a wet squeak. Mud and slime dribbled off me in clumps.

  My clothes, hair, and boots smelled like day-old fish. On the bright side, my dip in the pond had cured my hangover, not to mention a lingering case of villain’s foot.

  For the first time since Natasha took off with my worst friend, the Frog Prince, I actually felt somewhat sorry for the guy. A pond was no place for a man to live, amphibian parts aside.

  Trudging to the shore, water and slime dripping from my every orifice, I considered the last couple of days. I was trapped in Maledetto, an unknown killer as well as my murderous princess stalking my every step. Not to mention being cursed to boot, but I’d had worse weeks.

  In fact, when Natasha and I first married, we spent a week camping in the Enchanted Forest with Natasha’s banjo-playing relatives. Trust me, the forest and Natasha’s family were less than enchanting. I shuddered thinking about it.

  It was time to take charge, to find Cinderella’s killer and get the hell out of Maledetto. I sat down on the nearest toad-free log and contemplated my next move. I needed to return to the kingdom, at the very least to rescue my distressed and arrested damsel, and for a change of clothes. I guess I owed Charming an apology as well, for messing up his big day, even though it would kill me to give it.

  Somewhere on my right, a branch broke under the heavy tread of a boot. I snatched up a toad, aiming its poison butt at the interloper. I wasn’t going down without a fight. Little Red would see just how big and bad a villain I was.

  Or not.

  Through the brush, Charming’s overly big and blond head appeared. Tears stained his cheeks, giving him a clownlike appeal. My guilt-o-meter increased half a point.

  “Rabbi?” he said, stumbling my way. “What are you doing here?”

  “Charming, it’s me.” I yanked the kippah from my head. “RJ.”

  “Oh, RJ!” He clapped his hands and ran toward me. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  I stepped back to avoid his hugging arms, but tripped over a log and ended up on my back, a toad ass in my face. The toad croaked once, excreted a yellow gooey substance, and hopped away. I wiped my face and sniffed my fingers, relieved when they smelled only of urine. Not my proudest moment.

  I staggered to my feet, wiping my hands on the nearest bush, which turned out to be poison oak. My skin started to itch and blister instantly. It turned red and bubbled up two sizes bigger than a normal hand.

  That wasn’t nearly as bad as what happened next.

  Prince Rotten yanked me into a bear hug, crushing me to him, his arms surprisingly strong, as was his breath. “Why? RJ, why?” he cried against my shoulder. “Why would Dru do this? To me?”

  A swirl of answers crossed my mind, but my curse kept me from commenting. “Come on, mate.” I patted his shoulder, more in hopes he’d release me than for comfort. “You didn’t really love Dru. Did you? Admit it, you’re happy she eloped with Winslow.”

  “What? She eloped with the butler?” He jerked away. “Dru choose that troll over me? Why? I’m a prince, for fuck sakes! I’m pretty. I’m a catch, damn it! What could he possibly have that I don’t?” Humility? Kindness? A desire for women?

  I raised my hand to stop Charming’s tirade. “That’s not the point. The point is, you’re now a free man. No princess nagging at you twenty-four / seven. You can do what you want, when you want.”

  Or to whom you want.

  The prince tilted his head as if considering my words. Then he promptly burst into full snotty sobs. “You don’t understand. I loved Dru.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Well, I liked her.”

  I shook my head.

  “Fine,” he said. “But damn it, she was my last hope.”

  My eyes narrowed. In my short association with Charming, I never heard him utter a single unkind word, and now, he sounded much like a military general on the verge of surrender. Oddly, that didn’t make me like him one iota more.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize Dru’s importance to your plot to dominate the world.”

  Charming grinned, all cunning gone as swiftly as it came. “The world?” He giggled. “No. I want something much smaller. I want to be part of the Maledetto family. A real member. Not just some charity case the king took in as a child. I want to be a part of a real family.”

  “And marrying one of the princesses would give you that.” Well, I guess that explained his proposals to Asia, Cinderella, and then Dru. I almost felt sorry for the guy. Being an outcast was hard. I should know. I thought about what the queen had said, about Charming’s lack of childhood friends. About how the kids would laugh and tease him for being short ...

  “I was ten when the king took me in,” Charming said, his voice trembling, “an orphan, with no place to go.”

  “That’s rough.”

  He nodded, his eyes misting. “Don’t get me wrong. The king did right by me. He raised me like his son. I want nothing more than to please him.”

  “So you asked Asia, the oldest daughter, to marry you.”

  He nodded. “The king worried Asia would never marry. Not with her ... weight problem ...”

  What a fool. Was everyone in the kingdom blind? Asia’s beauty came from the stubborn tilt of her head and the curve of her smart mouth. It was there in the way she beat a defenseless egg to death, or how she made love with one hot look.

  Prince Moron continued, “I didn’t want to marry her, not with all that blubber, but I proposed to please the king.”

  Violence boiled inside me. Poor Asia. She had suffered with Prince Twat much too long. I vowed to make it up to her. Not a day would go by without my listing her every attribute, starting with the tiny mole on the inside of her right thigh, the one as smooth and velvety as whipped cream on a slice of pumpkin pie.

  “But then you dumped Asia for Cinderella,” I said. “How’d the king like that?”

  “I had no choice, really.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Cinderella was beautiful beyond compare and Asia ... well, you know ...”

  I wanted to pummel him into prince pudding, but something held me back. Stupid union. One good smack would solve so many problems, not to mention make me feel a hell of a lot better.

  “The king understood my need to marry his real daughter,” he said, as if Asia was some kind of imaginary offspring. “And the king was happy for us. Cinderella and me. For a while.” Charming’s voice turned whisper soft. “Yet if I had a chance to do it all over again, I would never have proposed to her.”

  “Her?” Did he mean Asia or his pancake-sized fiancée?

  “Cindi.” He shook his head. “Please try to pay attention.”

  “Right. Sorry,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm. Of course he failed to notice. “So why wouldn’t you propose to Cinderella?” After all, she seemed like Charming’s perfect match—vain, selfish, and stupid; add in a pinch of malice, and poof, a princess fit for a twit.

  A frown marred Charming’s perfect features. “Because Cinderella’s dead, RJ. I can’t marry a dead princess. What would people think?”

  I bit my lip to keep from screaming. “I know that.”

  “So why’d you ask?” He shook his head. “Never mind. What am I going to do now? Cinderella’s dead, and Dru’s run away with a troll.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warned.

  “What?”


  “Asia is mine.”

  In an instant, his face transformed from sad to giddy. He clapped his hands together and danced around me. “What a great idea.”

  “No!”

  “I’ll propose to Asia.”

  “I’ll kill you!”

  “She’s not fat anymore, even if her hair still resembles a carrot.”

  Somewhere in my cerebellum something snapped. I raised my hand and smacked Charming across the cheek. The slap echoed around the forest. Charming staggered backward, his hand rubbing his abused flesh. A red, deceptively small handprint stained his face.

  “Why’d you hit me?” he cried.

  “Are you serious?” I took a step toward him. “You’re planning to propose to my princess, and you ask me why I smacked you? You’re lucky that’s all I can do.” My foot lashed out, this time missing the idiot prince by a foot.

  Tears glistened in his eyes. He sniffed, sucking in a string of snot. Unfortunately, it did nothing to detract from his princely appeal. The bastard.

  I slapped him again for good measure.

  Charming cried out and ran behind a large bald oak tree. He poked his head around the bark.

  “Leave Asia alone.” I wagged a finger at him. “If you so much as look at her I’ll twist you into a Pollock painting.” Art Forgery 101 had finally paid off. My villainous instructor would be so proud.

  “Well, if that’s how you’re going to be,” Charming said.

  Damn straight it was. I would die for Asia, as long as she stopped trying to kill me. “That’s how I’m going to be,” I said, my arms crossed over my chest in a desperate attempt to intimidate.

  “A pity,” he said as he stepped behind the oak tree.

  I started to frown, but before my lips could curve into the appropriate downward arch, a crackle of electricity buzzed from behind me.

  Zap!

  Fifty thousand volts shot through my body. I dropped to my knees. My brain seemed to short-circuit as a string of foul words stammered on the end of my wobbly tongue.