“I can’t guarantee results,” said Lucas. “But I promise to do everything possible to banish the hex.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” snapped Tretta. “Get to work!”
* * *
They left the godmothers and Shameless at Lucas’ cabin.
Lucas held Bea’s hand to transport them both, and she felt an arcing electric connection between them. Not magic, but pure hot attraction. Talk about lousy timing. It was just her luck to find a handsome, gorgeous, single warlock right before she was doomed to croak.
The Universe could be cruel.
Unless Lucas really could work a miracle.
Lucas’ workshop looked exactly the way Bea had imagined. They were in a large cave; the craggy walls a deep, purple-black. The workshop was lit by magicked torches, which cast parts of the cave into shadows. Tables, shelves, and stools were carelessly placed. It seemed like every space and nook and cranny was filled with potion bottles, spell bags, papers, books, and other warlock accouterment. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if Shameless could wreck the place anymore than it already was.
Spot trotted across the pitted floor, blithely stepping on paperwork strewn like large, white leaves, and settled into a dog bed about three times too large for him. Each of the heads grabbed three bones that lay in the bed and began to gnaw.
“Are those the bones of your enemy?” Bea asked jokingly.
Spot looked up. Well, the middle head did. The other two ignored her completely. “Unfortunately not,” boomed the familiar. “Lucas makes these for me.”
“Organic,” said Lucas, as he dug through the top shelf of a bookcase. “Although you probably don’t want to know the ingredient list.”
“My familiar is a snake, remember?” Bea patted her purse. “So I don’t think you can gross me out, after all, I live with three ladies who rot and lose body parts on a regular basis.” She lifted a hand. “But don’t try, okay? I don’t want to throw up.”
Lucas chuckled. “Witches and their delicate gag reflexes.”
“Warlocks aren’t exactly known for their iron stomachs.”
“Ah, but I am not a typical warlock. And if you can withstand zombies who fall apart and dogs who drag home all manner of yuck, then perhaps you are not a typical witch, either.”
“I am part fairy, and fairies have strong constitutions.” Bea put down the purse near a table laden with bottles, opened spell books, and scattered items such as rosemary, ginger root, and what looked like tiny burned chicken legs. Eep. Lucas didn’t mess around.
A swell of dramatic music filtered into the space. Bea turned around and saw that Spot had conjured a flat screen TV. A sexy female voice said, “Spellsworth. A town ruled by the powerful Hetterson clan, wereraccoons who will stop at nothing to gain power and wealth.
“In our last episode, Freda Hetterson, the youngest daughter who’d quit college and come home in shame, finally announced her pregnancy—but not the name of her lover. And the death of Grandfather Hetterson, the most hated Shifter in town, still goes unresolved.
“Who is the father of Freda’s baby? And why are the Hettersons keeping evidence hidden from the detectives that might lead to their patriarch’s killer? Find out now on…The Familiar Way.”
Elspeth popped her head out of the bag. “I almossst misssed it.” She slithered all five scaly feet of her body onto the floor and headed straight for Spot’s bed. “Ssscoot over, beassst.”
Spot’s three heads turned to stare at her. For a moment, she thought Lucas’ familiar might try to eat her snake. And that would be a mistake because Elspeth could squeeze him flat in less than minute.
Instead, the Chihuahua resituated itself to allow space for Elspeth. The milk snake coiled next to him, resting her head on the edge of the dog bed. The familiars stared intently at the TV.
Bea joined Lucas on the other side of the cave. “Spot watches The Familiar Way, too?”
“Utterly addicted to it.” Lucas grabbed a small leather-bound journal and held it up, triumphant. “A-ha! Here we go.” He handed it to Bea. Then he reached down and grabbed a dusty green tome approximately the size of a Volvo. “And this will help us craft a protection spell against your Aunt Eartha in case she decides to show up.”
Bea hadn’t even considered that trying to save herself would attract her aunt’s attention. As far as she knew, no one had set eyes her miserable only relative since the day she destroyed Gallia and everyone in it. “My godmothers moved us around a lot in case my aunt came looking for us, but she never did.” She studied the giant book. “You think creating a spell this powerful will draw her to me, don’t you?”
Chapter Five
“Creating a spell to negate a death hex is a very rare thing. Every witch on this side of the Atlantic will know what we’re doing the minute we start the incantations.” Lucas paused. “It will no doubt grab Baba Yaga’s attention, too.”
“She’s the one who sent me to you,” said Bea. “I assume that means she won’t interfere.”
“Why didn’t she remove the hex?”
“She said she didn’t have the power to do so since I was bespelled in the fairy realm. It’s difficult enough breaking any death spell, much less one created by a pissed-off fairy royal.”
“And she thinks I can?”
“Probably has something to do with that whole you’re from the Underworld thing.”
“Ah.” Lucas turned to the bookcase and drew out a slim glittering gold volume. “This is from the fairy world. A gift from someone I helped long ago. It may come in handy now.”
They took the books to the nearest table. Lucas pushed papers and items back to create a space. He opened The History of Curses and Their Cures, a huge green book that he’d found at a London bookshop. He used the appendix to look up the section on death spells.
“The journal is from Salem, Massachusetts circa 1692 kept by a warlock named Silas Osborne. There was a plethora of curses thanks to a fight between Dorcas Hoar and Deliverance Hobbs. He wrote everything down, including the most heinous hexes.”
“And the gold book?”
“It’s a rare copy of Felicity Rosethorn’s Fairy Magic for Modern Times.” He smiled. “Of course, the modern times she was referring to were the 1200s. Still, we might find a helpful hint or two.” He perused the listing of death curses and found what he was looking for midway down. He flipped to the page and began to read.
After the first paragraph, he knew it wouldn’t work. He looked up another one—and another—and soon, had gone through every listing.
“What’s wrong?” asked Bea. “You look like you’ve been sucking on a lemon.”
“I just need to check a few more things.”
He grabbed Rosethorn’s book and thumbed through it. The chapter about fairy spells drawn from vengeance and vitriol only solidified his growing suspicions about Bea’s curse.
Finally, he studied the journal. Not even Silas Osborne’s meticulous notes about the witches’ battles in Salem offered a kernel of hope. He looked at Bea, unable to voice the news.
“You can’t help me, can you?” She swallowed hard. “Well, that sucks vampire nuts.”
Lucas took her hand. “There’s one person who might know how to remove your hex. He’s not exactly…well, it’s hard to explain.”
“I don’t have anything to lose,” said Bea. “Let’s do it.”
“Okay.”
“Wait. We should probably get my godmothers and Shameless. It’s better for everyone if we know where they are and what they’re doing.”
Lucas waved his hand. Three guilty-looking godmothers dusted in white, and Shameless, with sticky yellow fur, appeared in the workshop.
Bea groaned. “I can’t leave you three alone for a minute. What happened?”
“Nothing happened. We decided to make cookies is all.” Dretta brushed off her tracksuit.
“Remember the conversation we had about cooking? You know, the part about you never doing it again?”
“It’s not like I meant to lose my hand in the stew pot,” said Gretta.
“And we sure as hell didn’t purposely set Tretta’s ass on fire. At least, not that particular day.” Dretta grinned.
“You set the entire kitchen on fire, Dretta.”
“Well, we were doing fine with the cookies until Shitzu without a Clue barreled into the kitchen and tripped Gretta.”
“I was holding the flour,” admitted G-Mom. “And the eggs.”
And that explained the state of Shameless’ fur.
“I appreciate the thought, ladies.” Lucas wiggled his fingers at the zombies and Shameless. In the blink of an eye, everyone was clean—probably cleaner than they were before the Cookie Incident. Shameless plopped down on a stack of papers, rolled over, and started snoring.
“What’s the story?” asked Tretta. “Can you save our girl, or not?”
Lucas shared a look with Bea.
“We’re at the point where anything goes,” said Lucas. “Everyone move back.” He paused. "Just try not to breathe in the stench—and ignore the guy’s horns, okay?”
“What?” Bea looked at him, alarmed.
“You’ll understand in a second. Here goes.” Lucas drew in a deep breath. “Bermangoggleshitz. Bermangoggleshitz. Bermangoggleshitz.”
“Oh for Goddess’ sake!” Dretta huffed out a breath. Dust floated from her mouth. “That’s your plan? I thought we wanted to avoid him?”
“Too late,” said Bea.
The workshop filled with acrid green smoke. Emanating from that noxious cloud were wriggling black snakes. Finally, the man…er, creature himself stepped out and the snake-smoke disappeared. He was freaking tall—taller than Lucas and Lucas was fairly big dude. Half of Bermangoggleshitz’s face was gorgeous, GQ-worthy. And the other half? Lucas barely stopped short of shuddering. The remaining part of Bermangoggleshitz’s countenance was covered in cracked, oozing skin. If that wasn’t disconcerting enough, one eye was a beautiful dark blue reminiscent of summer skies and calm seas while the other was beady and black, and as cold as an Arctic winter. Large horns poked up from the warlock’s skull, completing the awful visage.
“Whew,” said Dretta. “Do you bathe in Axe? You know, women hate that, right?”
“Hey, it’s not easy getting rid of the stench of evil. And you should talk,” boomed Bermangoggleshitz. “You smell like a fried patty of dog shit wrapped in a sweaty gym sock.”
Bea gagged. “Nice imagery.”
“I’m honest.” He studied Bea with his odd gaze, and his off-kilter stare gave her the willies. “You have one helluva hex on you, sweetheart.” He leaned in closer. “I recognize that spellwork. Eartha, right?”
“You know my aunt?”
“I haven’t seen her in decades. We met at a disco in the 1970s. That woman knew how to shake her caboose. And she was crazy in bed. Half the time I thought she was trying to kill me.” He laughed. “I like that in a bed partner.”
“I’m going to throw up,” said Tretta.
Bermangoggleshitz ignored the zombie as he stood upright, his smile filled with pride. “I taught her that hex myself.” He spread out his arms in a mea culpa gesture. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was going to blow up an entire kingdom. Not that meant anything to me then. I was pure evil. Black to the core. Ah, the good old days.”
“If you taught her the hex, that means you can remove it, right?” asked Bea, her voice filled with excitement.
“Uh, no. That’s the best part of the spell—pure nasty with no hope of escape.” Bermangoggleshitz reached out and patted Bea’s shoulder with a meaty hand. “Them’s the breaks, kid.”
“That’s impossible,” said Lucas. “Every spell has a backdoor or a loophole. That’s just the way magic works—even dark magic.”
Bermangoggleshitz shrugged. “You can only fight dark magic with dark magic, right? The problem with you white-lighters is you can’t call up dark magic without consequences” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Although…”
“Although what?”
“Well, there are very powerful anti-hex spells that might work, but most of ‘em require life force. Your soul,” he clarified.
“What’s the point of not dying if I have to live without my soul? I kinda need that.” Bea’s look of disappointment tore at Lucas’ heart.
“She can have my soul,” said Dretta.
“All of ours,” said Tretta as Gretta nodded her agreement, too.
“Doesn’t work like that. Besides, your souls are caught between this world and the next. That’s what happens with zombies. You three really should consider dying as soon as possible.”
“We’ll get right on that,” Dretta.
“Where would we find these soul spells?” asked Bea.
“I don’t know if I should tell you. I promised my daughter Sassy I would try to be good, and giving you access to dark-magic spells is bad. Very bad.” He shook his head. “Nope. No can do.”
“He’s right,” said Lucas. “Those kind of spells are beyond dangerous. If you lose your soul, you’ll wander the banks of the Hypnos River, never remembering who you are.“ Lucas swallowed hard. Now his dream made sense. If he allowed Bea to enact a dark-magic spell that cost her soul, she would end up in his father’s boat, floating toward the bleak shores of Hypnos.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Chapter Six
“I guess there’s no way to fix this,” said Bea. She felt her heart drop in her chest. The disappointment crushed her. “I’m going to bite the big one. Go to the big yarn store in the sky. Disappear into oblivion.”
“No, you are not,” said Dretta. She went toe to toe with Bermangoggleshitz. “Fix this!”
He blinked down at the zombie. “I told you, I’m not giving you soul-spells.”
“That’s all you’ve got, big boy?” yelled Tretta. “Bupkus?”
Bermangoggleshitz looked nonplussed. Bea supposed getting bossed around by zombies was something new for him. He pursed his lips. “There’s one thing you can do,” he said. “But it’s a shot in the dark—dark magic, that is.” He chuckled at his little joke.
“Get on it,” said Gretta, obviously irritated.
“You asked for it.” Bermangoggleshitz rubbed his palms together When he pulled his hands apart, a coil of purple-black appeared in front of him. It dissipated instantly.
There was evil Aunt Eartha, dressed in a terrycloth robe and bunny slippers. A towel was wrapped around her head. Her face was covered in chunky green paste and she had a toothbrush in her hand.
For a long moment everyone stared at her.
“What the fuck, people?” Aunt Eartha made a little spinning gesture with her finger. In less than a second, she’d gone from housewife going to bed to evil woman who was gonna a cut a bitch. She sniffed and then looked over her shoulder. “Roy?”
“Hey, Eartha. Did we catch you at a bad time?”
“Go away, you big turd.” She did another finger spin and Bermangoggleshitz disappeared. “I heard Roy went to the good side. You’d think they’d at least give the guy a bath.”
Lucas moved in front of Bea while the zombie godmothers crowded against her sides. The strange, expectant silence was interrupted by Shameless’ gentle snores. And in the background, a faint voice cried, “It’s my stepbrother’s baby!”
“Oh, my God. That’s The Familiar Way. I’ve got it set to record and I’d like to get home at a reasonable hour to watch it.” She made a move gesture and Lucas slid out of the way. “What do you want, Beatrice?”
“What do I want?” Beatrice filled with rage. “What do I want? I want you to take back the death spell you aimed at me thirty years ago.”
Aunt Eartha lifted a brow then turned her gaze toward the godmothers. “Look at you three. Sexy as ever. I guess your magic wasn’t enough to cancel out my little hex.” Aunt Eartha returned her attention to Bea. “You have my sister’s pert little nose, but it’s your warlock father you favor the most. All the same, I still hate you.
All of you.” She turned toward Lucas. “I don’t know who you are, but if you’re hanging out with this bunch, you’re in the circle of hate.”
“I’m Lucas Dark,” he said, his voice low.
“And yet, you’re a white-lighter. Having a name like that makes it very confusing.”
“Remove the spell, you butt boil!” demanded Dretta.
Aunt Eartha’s smile was pure evil. “Oh, you want my help? Sure. Let me help you.” She made a calendar appear and then pointed at each day. A red cross appeared on each white square until it was Bea’s birthday. “No reason to make you suffer, dear niece.” She snapped her fingers.
Bea felt her heart seize. She fell forward only to be caught by Lucas.
“Midnight on your thirtieth birthday. Consider it my present. I’m outta.”
“Like hell.” All three godmothers dove onto Eartha and pushed her down to the ground.
“You know,” said Bea as the breath squeezed from her lungs, “I think I like you.”
“I like you, too.”
Bea closed her eyes and her body went limp.
* * *
Lucas felt every molecule in his body turn to hot rage. He gently laid Bea on the floor. Her breathing was shallow, but he knew she had only had minutes left. He stood up. His anger took the form of a wild whipping wind filled with screaming shadows.
The godmothers rolled off Eartha.
“Oh, hey. I forgot.” Bermangoggleshitz’s head poked out of a small green cloud with black snakes. “You can use this to wrangle Eartha. It’ll probably kill her.” A black rope appeared—a black rope that turned out to be one long snake.
“Thanks.”
“If you get a chance to tell Sassy about my good deed, I’d appreciate it.” Bermangoggleshitz disappeared.
Lucas threw the snake on Eartha, who was too busy trying to get zombie bits off her dress to notice.
“Aaaaaaah!” She screamed. The snake coiled around her, tighter and tighter and tighter. She puffed up like a human balloon.
Magic and Mayhem: Sh*t My Zombie Says (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Witches Gone Wild Book 4) Page 3