Magic and Mayhem: Heidi: A 'Not-Quite' Hellhound Love Story (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The 'Not-Quite' Love Story Series Book 5)

by Julia Mills

  Her southern accent was so pronounced it had taken me a minute to catch on to what she was saying but when I did I was shocked to hear she was Tildy…I mean Matilda’s sister. Talk about mutt (Yes, I mean Matilda.) and Jeff, although I guess I should say Jess. (Sorry, had to do it and you know you laughed.) I just couldn’t wait to meet Beatrix. My imagination was working double time trying to come up with what she would look like, let alone sound like, but I digress.

  “Well, it’s a really cute little place,” I complimented her or at least I thought I was complimenting her but when she cried a real tear, I didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Cassie was quick to recover and explained, “Sorry for that. It’s just that I really want to be all dark and evil like my sisters. Everyone in our family for thousands of years has been a servant of the Dark Lord and just look at me,” she wailed. “I can’t even kill a flower. They just come back twofold and even prettier than before.”

  Not sure what to do, I looked at Bert who shrugged, walked towards the beautiful witch and patted her arm, “There, there, Cassie. You want to come with us? You could visit Trixie. Maybe help out with the rogue witches. Get out of New Orleans for a day or two.”

  Gone were the tears. The weeping and wailing disappeared in a flash, and just like that Cassie was jumping up and down and clapping her hands, squealing, “Can I? Can I really?” (You may have noticed all these people squeal and clap and jump about. I swear it is yet another form of torture passed on to me from dear ol’ mom.)

  Running out of time and patience, I nodded and waved my hand, “Sure, sounds good to me. The more the merrier, but we need to get going. Time is not something we have a lot of.”

  Running into her house, Cassie called over her shoulder, “Car’s out back. I’ll just grab a change of clothes and my essentials. Be out in two minutes.”

  Tired of not leading, I walked around Bert, followed the trail of white patio stones and pink *shudder* petunias to the back yard. Rounding the corner, I nearly fell flat on my ass when I ran smack into the front bumper of a bright red VW beetle. I have no idea what you’re thinking because at that moment I had no idea what to think but let me help you with the visual because it gets so much better.

  Not only was it the brightest, cherriest red I had ever seen, but it had been adorned with large black spots sporadically placed all over the body, false eyelash shields on the headlights, a personalized license plate that read LDYBUG and the piéce de résistance was the huge pink *double shudder* carnation adorning the gear shift. Standing speechless, I could only stare when Cassie bounced out of her backdoor, hit the key fob in her hand which made the horn beep and the headlights ‘bat their eyes’ at me and sing-songed, “Road trip!” It was the second time I’d heard that term in the last few hours and this time, even more than the last, I wanted to barf.

  “Heidi,” Cassie called to me, right before she tossed me the keys, “You’re driving, I never was able to pass the test.” (Color me surprised.)

  “At least it’s not pink,” I grumbled, getting into the driver’s side, starting the car and waiting for my passengers to buckle up.

  It took a bit of maneuvering since I hadn’t driven a manual transmission since I was in high school but just like riding a bike, I remembered and we were off…a ‘not-quite’ hellhound, an imp and a white witch, tell me what could go wrong.

  “Everything, you dumbass. Absolutely everything!”

  “Shut the hell up, Lola!”

  Chapter Ten

  What hadn’t been explained to me but became abundantly clear fairly early into our trip was that Cassie was not only a white witch who could in no way perform black magic but she was also eternally, sickening, never-endingly happy…All. The. Time. Secondly, and of vast more importance and annoyance, Bert dropped a serious monkey wrench in the works at precisely four-fifty-seven am, after we’d been on the road less than three hours and while I was happily driving the Ladybug Express down the road and dreaming of dancing caramel macchiatos. (Sue me. I’m a caffeine addict.) He proclaimed, from the back seat, with a smile on his face, (I wonder about that imp’s sense of self-preservation sometimes.) that sunrise was in exactly sixty minutes and neither he nor I could be out in the sunlight.

  “WHAT?!” I screeched, slamming on the brakes, spinning the wheel to the right, skidding into an empty parking lot, throwing open the door and jumping out of the car. Madder than I had been in the last twenty-four hours, I stomped around, flailing my arms in the air like a crazy woman and railed, “We’re on a deadline. Like a for real DEADLINE! Have only a few days to get to West Virginia, find the only witch who can make me into a four-legged, butt-sniffing daughter of Cerberus and then get back to Hell, challenge the Princess of Hell to a dual, win said dual without getting zapped out of existence by her daddy, the King of Hell and marry the love of my life and…” I stopped screaming, opened Bert’s door, leaned and yelled, “You forgot to tell me that if the sun hits us we turn to ash? Like poof, we’re gone?”

  “W-w-well, y-y-yes,” the imp stammered.

  “In his defense,” Cassie began, only to swallow her words when I literally climbed over Bert, sat in her lap and growled, “You feeling lucky enough to finish that statement?”

  “Uh…well…no.” She frantically shook her head. “I don’t think I am.”

  “Good choice,” I snapped, grabbing the sunflower she had pinned to the lapel of her baby blue cardigan and crushing it to be sure they both understood I was righteously pissed.

  So angry I was seeing double, I opened the door on her side of the backseat, crawled out, turned around and handed her back what was left of her flower, slammed the door and paced around the car until I could at least speak without wanting to rip one, or both, of their heads off.

  Getting back in the driver’s seat and staring forward, I calmly (Read this as white-knuckle gripping the wheel while speaking through gritted teeth.) asked, “Is there any other pertinent information I need before I find us a motel?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I looked into the rearview mirror just in time to catch Bert and Cassie looking at one another, mouthing something and then shrugging. Taking a deep breath, I pasted on a fake smile, turned in my seat and said, “Out with it. No more surprises. Am I clear?”

  Nodding so quickly I thought their heads might fly off, my little buddy and the good witch both began speaking at the same time until I raised my hand and whistled through my teeth. (It may not be the most ladylike thing I can do, but it’s effective and that’s all that matters.) “ENOUGH!” I bellowed. “One at a time.” Then looking at Bert and pointing, “You first.”

  Looking at me like I might lop of his ears, it took the imp two tries but when he finally spoke, I am proud to say his voice only cracked once. “I just want to be sure you understand that absolutely no light can get into our room.” He cleared his throat before adding, “Since you only left topside a short while ago, I’m sure you would only get what amounts to a really bad sunburn should the sun touch your skin. However,” he paused and looked down at his hands before finishing with a whisper, “I will be toast.”

  Feeling like a total ass, I reached back and patted my little buddy on the shoulder, “I understand. I’ll make sure no sunlight can get in.”

  “Thanks,” he murmured, still not looking up at me.

  Before I could ask what else was wrong, Cassie blurted out, “Oh, please don’t get mad but unlike y’all I have to have the sunlight, at least four hours or my magic just stops working.”

  Now, I understood the looks and the shrugging and had to wonder if this was what the saying ‘Hell on Earth’ was all about, but with the clock ticking and my passengers acting like they were in timeout at preschool all I could do was say, “Then we’ll get two rooms,” before turning back to the steering wheel, starting the car and silently getting back on the highway.

  At ten minutes to daybreak, we rolled into Mel’s No-Tell-Motel and after a thrilling conversation with a pimple-faced kid who stared at my bo
obs and had a five-word vocabulary with ‘Dude’ being in first place, I had secured two rooms. Bidding Cassie a good night, or day as the case was, Bert and I locked the door and battened down the hatches. I couldn’t help but laugh when my little buddy pulled the pillows and comforter, which I am sure had not been washed in this decade, off his bed, disappeared underneath and called out, “Sleep well, my friend.”

  “Right back atcha, little guy,” I chuckled, taking off my boots and duster and heading to the bathroom for a much needed shower, praying there were no bugs or if there were – they stayed hidden.

  Once I was clean, in my jammies and tucked into bed, I watched a little daytime television, thought about gouging out my eyes and ripping off my ears, and when the noonday news came on finally drifted off to sleep. That was how the next three days went, only the names of the motels and the number of pimples on the desk clerks’ faces changed. Our nights were spent maneuvering the highway, stopping for gas and keeping Bert from buying every piece of chocolate at every gas station between Louisiana and West Virginia. It wasn’t that he wanted to eat it, it was the fact that he was buying to trade with the trolls. Apparently, it’s better than money under all the bridges in the pits of Hell. Who knew?

  Crossing the border into West Virginia should’ve relieved some of my tension and for about six minutes and forty-two seconds it did. But as things in my undead life go, all my feel-goods went up in smoke when Cassie shrieked, “OH MY GODDESS!” while pointing out the window at a pillar of dark black smoke with fire shooting out the top.

  “Turn here! Turn here! Turn here!” She shouted, pointing at a hidden drive immediately to my right.

  Slamming on the brakes, I jerked the wheel to the right, listened to the squeal of the tires and prayed to whoever was listening that we didn’t flip over as the car went up on two wheels. Straightening out the steering wheel, the car crashed back to earth just as I gunned the engine and flew down the little dirt road while following the directions Cassie was screaming in my ear.

  Careening towards the tower of smoke, flames shooting so high in the sky they hid the moon while ash covered the hood and windshield of the Ladybug Express, I had to wonder what fresh pile of steaming crap we were going to find at the end of the path. “One more right and then straight to the dead end,” Cassie yelled, rolling down her window and all but climbing out.

  I was just about to ask what was going on when she let out an ear-piercing scream that left my ears ringing and my brain rattled. “Gosh darn you, Trixie. Stop all this nonsense and come down from there.”

  Once again slamming on the brakes but this time because if I didn’t I would run smack into the pillar of smoke. I opened my mouth to ask where we were when two very important things happened simultaneously. First of all, I realized Cassie was screaming at the biggest, blackest, scariest, fire-breathing dragon I had ever seen, (Okay, the only one I’d ever seen.) who had just come flying out of the center of the tower of smoke. And secondly and much more importantly – the friggin’ dragon was Beatrix!

  Before I could fathom exactly what was happening, Cassie was out of the car, running towards her sister, aka the dragon, pointing her finger and scolding, “What have I told you about going all Maleficent? It doesn’t do anything towards improving your standing with the other witches and it leaves an awful mess to clean up.” The red-headed witch threw her arms wide open. “Just look at all the burnt trees and flowers, not to mention the soot and ash all over the place. It’s gonna take me a month of Sundays to grow all this back.”

  I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself, but there was absolutely no denying that the longer Cassie reprimanded the beast the more it hung its head. Stamping her feet and pointing at a spot right in front of her, the red-headed witch demanded, “Stop the fire crap and land right here. I’ll help you transform and then you’re gonna help me clean up this mess.”

  Shaking my head and ready to make a sarcastic comment (I know you’re shocked.) about teaching an old dragon new tricks, I swallowed my words and my eyes almost popped out of my head as the fire stopped and the dragon landed right where Cassie had instructed it to. Three gobbley-gook words flew from the red-headed witch’s mouth, the air filled with tiny flashes of light that reminded me of the fireflies we used to catch when I was a little girl and bingo-bango the scary dragon was a tall, buxom, chunky witch with shoulder-length platinum curls flying in every direction and a look of contrition on her heart-shaped face.

  “I’m sorry Cass, but those damn rogues pissed me off,” the blonde witch apologized with a low, smoky voice that didn’t match the clean cut, blue-eyed image in front of me. “They tied me up, changed the color of my house to pink,” she fumed, while pointing over her shoulder at the Pepto Bismal pink *triple shudder* two-story A-frame. “And as if that wasn’t enough, they turned Arlo into a poodle…a tiny teacup poodle with bows in his hair,” she pouted picking up the cutest little dog I had ever seen, holding it at arm’s length and wailing, “He’s a Rottweiler, Cass, a Rottweiler. How will we ever go to the dog park again? All the other familiars will laugh at him. You know he can’t take being laughed at.”

  “I know, I know. We’ll fix your house and Arlo,” Cassie patted the dog’s head, “But none of that matters, Trixie. You’ve got to learn to control your temper. You’re just lucky it’s the middle of the night and none of the Old Ones are around. You know how upset they get when you shift and burn things down. You don’t want to have to go ask Zelda to get you out of the pokey again. She is pregnant and you know what a witch with raging hormones can be like.” (I later found out that Zelda was like their head witch, or as they called her ‘the next in line to be the Baba Yaga and also the Shifter Whisper. From what they said about her, she seemed like a cool chick but anyone who loves shopping as much as I do can’t be all bad, right? I originally thought they were taking me to her for healing but found out exactly how wrong I was…wrong, wrong, wrong…really, really wrong. Have I mentioned these witches are crazy?)

  Rolling her eyes, she fluffed her frizzy curls before sighing, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, well, they’re just jealous.”

  Cassie tried not to laugh but I saw the corner of her mouth lift just a touch before she got it under control and once again reprimanded, “That’s not the point. What will you do if they take your magic and make you live as a dragon forever?”

  “Set their houses on fire,” the blonde witch barked with laughter as she walked past her sister and headed straight for me.

  Stopping a few feet to my right, she threw out her hand and with a big grin announced, “Hey there. I’m Beatrix, Trixie for short and I’m thinking you’re the Hellhound causing all the ruckus in Hell.”

  Chapter Eleven

  With only nine days left before Luci’s stupid wedding, I was beginning to freak out. Then when I factored in the four-day return trip to Louisiana to get to the portal to get back to Hell I almost hyperventilated. I had exactly five days for Beatrix, excuse me - Trixie, (Sounds like a hooker, not a powerful witch. Am I really putting my future and Hunter’s in this woman’s hands? I really have lost my ever-loving mind.) to restore the part of my magic my mom and her sleazy pawnbroker demon friend had stolen from me, teach me how to shift into a Hellhound and…oh yeah, and also teach me how to fight, since the only punching I’d ever done in my whole life was during a Billy Blanks’ Tae Bo video. Forgive me, but I had a sneaky suspicion all of this was going to take a little more than a quick bibbidy-bobbity-boo.

  “Yeah, I’m Heidi,” I finally answered, shaking her hand and preparing for what was to come next and Trixie didn’t disappoint.

  “I thought you’d be a bigger gal,” she shrugged. “But I guess we’ll work with what we have.”

  Wondering exactly how long I could go without practicing one of my Billy Blanks’ moves on her, I opened my mouth to tell Trixie exactly what I thought about her assessment of me when Cassie stepped between us and in her sweet, little, southern, sing-song voice, nervously chuc
kled, “Now, Trixie, be nice.” She looked at me and then back to her sister. “Hunter loves Heidi. She’s gonna be family.”

  Nodding her head, Trixie winked at me, (Yes, seriously, she winked at me. Nerve, huh?) and grinned, “I was just messing with her. Had to see if she could take it, didn’t I? If she’s gonna be one of us, she’s gotta be tough and from the look in her eye, I’d say she’s plenty tough enough.” She barked with laughter, smacking Cassie on the back so hard the red-head nearly fell over then turned tail and hollered over her shoulder, “Come on, we’re gonna need to consult ‘the book’ to find the answers we need for this one.”

  Cassie grabbed my hand and motioned for Bert to follow us as we kept pace behind the frizzy-haired Trixie. Walking through her house – the still Pepto Bismal pink one (Yes, I had hives from over exposure to the putrid color.) – I was shocked to see a DVD player, blue ray player, a Wii, an X-box, a Playstation and a karaoke machine all hooked up to the biggest freakin’ television I’d ever seen. (No, really it was huge, like eighty-five inches of HD awesomeness. And… I’m busted. I’m a game nerd. It’s what I used to do when I was veggin’ at the house on a Saturday afternoon. Now, you know and now, I will kill you if you ever tell.)

  I knew someone was kicking ass at old school Mario Kart and I admit to wanting to stop the world, get off and play along but, I couldn’t...I had already put on my big girl panties and it was time to kick ass and take names or at least get ready for the fight. However, I did have to know who was steadily creeping up on my all-time high score. Peeking around the corner, the words ‘Holy shit’ flew out of my mouth before I could stop them and then ‘what the fu…’ as twelve, I shit you not, twelve tiny imps, who looked just like Bert, jumped off the couch and began running around in circles.