Magically Delicious

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Magically Delicious Page 11

by Robyn Peterman


  “Where exactly do you propose we sit down and chat?” Marge asked. “The Magical Menace blew my house up.”

  “Sorry about that,” Carol apologized. “Really, I am. It was a knee jerk reaction.”

  Leaving them hanging in the air, I stomped over the pile of cookie rubble and examined it. Baba Yaga had done a thorough job—even the crumbs looked like dust—only a few cookie chunks here and there. Gooey bits of gumdrops oozed everywhere. Green and messy. I didn’t remember all the gumdrops on the roof being green, but clearly they had to have been. I’d been so obsessed with the chocolate door that I supposed I’d overlooked the all green roof—green and goopy.

  Wait one motherhumpin’ minute…

  My gut clenched, but this time it wasn’t a contraction. Nope, not even close.

  Something was very, very wrong here.

  Green goop? Oozing green goop…

  My body froze and my brain started working over time. Chills skittered up my spine and I silently thanked the Goddess for giving me the forethought to ban Marge’s magic. Visions of the deadly syringe filled with the gooey green potion filled my head. I’d found it. I’d found the source of the lurking fucking evil. Marge was the creator of it, I was in labor, and I’d just made sure Baba Yaga had no magic.

  Shitshitshitshit.

  “Lucky and Charm, close your eyes and stay in my tummy for at least another couple of hours. I have some business to take care of and I want your Daddy to be with me when you guys arrive. If I have to blow you out, he has to pay for knocking me up. That’s probably TMI, but I want to have an open and honest relationship with you guys. Can you do that for Mommy?” I whispered, gently rubbing my stomach.

  A ticklish wave darted around my stomach and I knew my babies had heard me—I just hoped they obeyed. I let a grateful smile pull at my lips, but only briefly. My children were going to enter a world without the lurking fucking evil in it. The end was in reach and we were definitely on the last chapter of this unfortunate fairy tale.

  Turning away from the wreckage of the house, I marched over to Marge and slashed my hands through the air. She was now bound, gagged and confined in a cage.

  “You,” I hissed in a fury. My body shook with rage as the images of my aunt’s death raced across my vision. “You made the evil that killed my Aunt Hildy. You’re the reason the honey badgers were able to take her magic. Which then in turn made me have to take my mother’s magic from her. I possess dark magic because of you.”

  “Um… Zelda,” Baba Yaga interrupted.

  “Not now, Carol. I’ve got this.”

  “You’re sure about that?” she asked.

  “Damn right,” I snapped. “Stay out of it.”

  “Will do.”

  Flicking my fingers I released Baba from the air and restored her magic. She dropped to the ground with an unladylike thud and grunt, but she was free. My finesse wasn’t outstanding, but my intentions were good. I didn’t need my mentor, but she didn’t need to be helpless. Just in case Marge had more evil up her sleeve, I didn’t want the insane woman I secretly adored unable to defend herself.

  Maybe my ego had grown along with my stomach, but I was going with it. I had a limited amount of time to save the world and I really wanted to give birth in Assjacket with my doula DeeDee at my side.

  “Do you want to explain yourself?” I growled at a wide-eyed Marge.

  “Um… Zelda,” Baba Yaga cut in with a politely raised hand.

  “Yes?” I asked, exasperated.

  “She’s gagged. Don’t think she can answer you.”

  “Right,” I said, slapping my forehead and wiggling my nose.

  The duct tape ripped from Marge’s mouth and she cried out in pain. My instinct was to comfort her. What the hell was wrong with me? She’d made a potion that stole magic and killed witches. She didn’t deserve my compassion. Goddess, being happy and in love had made me soft.

  “Start talking, Marge,” I instructed tightly.

  “Nuclear energy,” Marge replied flatly.

  “You’re cryptic horse poop isn’t going to save you,” I threatened.

  “I certainly hope not,” she said, watching me with interest. “However, I’d think you’d enjoy something a bit wicked—being as dark as you are.”

  “You thought wrong,” I shot back.

  “Kill me girl. Do it now. It will save me from having to do it myself.”

  Her lips were bleeding where the tape had torn itself away. My fingers itched to heal her, but I held myself back. Reminding myself that my aunt had pled for her life because of the lurking fucking evil Marge had created, I made myself watch her bleed. Her comfort was not my problem.

  Shit, yes it was.

  I slapped my forehead.

  No. No, it wasn’t.

  Pacing back and forth like a lunatic while I silently argued with myself was wearing me out. What exactly was I going to do here?

  Wing it. I was going to wing it. NO. I was going to be a mom in a few hours. Moms didn’t wing things with enormous ramifications. I mean my mom did, but that’s why I was a mess with a porno loving rabbit Shifter for a therapist. Marge needed to confess and then I would punish her… but I wasn’t the Goddess.

  I was just Zelda the Witch who was a barely passable Shifter Whisperer. Who was I to punish her for her evil deeds?

  “Marge, I’m having a bit of a Jiminy Cricket moment here. I’m going to ask you nicely to explain yourself because I’m pretty sure Lucky and Charm can hear everything I say. Yes, I may possess dark magic, but it wasn’t my choice to have it. I’ve mostly got a handle on it, but if you push me far enough, it’s anyone’s guess how I’ll use it. You wanting me to kill you is either brilliant reverse psychology or you’re crazier than I thought. Tell me why you created something so evil. Make me understand. Please.”

  “It’s all in how you use it, girlie,” she said wearily.

  I glanced behind and noted that Baba Yaga stood quietly, watching Marge with great interest.

  “Like nuclear energy?” I asked slowly.

  “Yes. I stopped last week.”

  “Stopped what?” Baba Yaga asked.

  “I thought the unbalanced red head was in charge here, Carol,” Marge said.

  “She is,” Carol said at the very same time I uttered, “I’m not.”

  I looked at the witch I considered my superior in every way. Then I looked at them both.

  “And I’m not unbalanced,” I added for good measure.

  Both of the women shot me a disbelieving glance.

  “Fine, I’m unbalanced, but I don’t create potions that kill witches.”

  “Whatever,” Marge said. “Either or both of you can kill me. I’m tired and I’m done.”

  “Oh Marge, no,” Baba Yaga whispered sadly.

  Now I was just confused. This wasn’t going quite like it was supposed to—whatever the heck that even meant. Marge was tired. What in the Goddess’s name was Marge tired of? And why was Baba sad at the thought of destroying the source of the lurking fucking evil?

  “Have you muted the magic in the world?” I asked, deciding to get as many questions answered as I could, since I wasn’t sure what was happening.

  “Nuclear energy,” she repeated.

  Inhaling deeply and blowing it out slowly through my lips, I pressed my twitching hands to my sides. It wouldn’t do any good at all to zap her. I’d just feel awful. There were far too many puzzle pieces missing to pass judgment at this point.

  “Can’t you be a bit more forthcoming?”

  “I can,” a horrifyingly familiar male voice said as he materialized next to Marge’s cage.

  Bermangoogleshitz smelled like shit on a stick. His beady eyes were as black as night and his hair matched. As the acrid green smoke around him dissipated, I noticed his horns had grown. Lovely.

  “How did you get in here, you horrible piece of magical trash?” Marge hissed, backing into the corner of her cage. “No one summoned you.”

  I watched,
fascinated as Baba Yaga sprinted to the cage, reached through the bars, and placed her hand on Marge in solidarity. Confusion was mild for what I was experiencing now. Why in the world was Bermangoogleshitz here? And why was Carol protecting Marge?

  “Interesting you should ask, Marge,” Bermangoogleshitz sneered. “Somehow the wards fell down around this delightful wrinkle that I’ve been banned from for centuries. Imagine my excitement at the thought of being welcomed. I’ve missed you, lovely Marge.”

  “You’re not welcome here,” Carol ground out through clenched teeth, wiggling her fingers and covertly freeing Marge from the ropes she was bound in.

  “Ahhhhhh, the great Baba Yaga and her exquisite sister,” Bermangoogleshitz said with so much derision it practically dripped from his forked tongue. “It’s been ages since we were all together. Pity. Think of all the fun we missed over the years.”

  Holy shitballs, Carol and Marge were sisters? I scratched my head and stared at them.

  “State your business,” Marge snapped in a voice that scared the heck out of me.

  “I want the potion,” he replied.

  “Over my dead body,” she hissed.

  “That can be arranged, my dear. And the pleasure would be all mine.”

  And for better or worse, that’s when I stepped in…

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Not happening, Bermangooglesnot,” I shouted, as I pushed him back with a shot of dark magic and stood between him and the cage. “It’s mine. I found it first.”

  “Why you’re more evil than I’d originally thought,” he purred, nodding in approval. “So you want to own the world as well. Interesting.”

  The lie had slipped from my mouth easily. I didn’t want to own the world at all. I wanted to have my babies, some Ho Hos, and live happily ever after with Mac. Owning the world was nowhere on my list. However, Bermangoogleshitballs owning the world wasn’t going to happen on my clock. I’d fight him for Marge’s nuclear energy potion and then I’d get to the bottom of Marge…

  “Yes. I mean, who wouldn’t want to own the world,” I spat sarcastically. “It’s mine, so leave.”

  “Make me.”

  “What are you? Five?” I yelled. I’d already dealt with two adults behaving like children. I was in no mood to deal with another. And I was getting dangerously close to blowing my own children out.

  “Hardly,” he shot back in his oily voice. “You’re weak. You won’t use it correctly.”

  What in the Goddess’s name was he babbling about? Details would have been nice, but I was vaguely cognizant of the overall picture here, and the evil bastard could under no circumstance have the green goop. I’d figure out the rest later.

  Lucky and Charm moved in my stomach and it took everything I had not to gasp or scream. A power very dark began to swirl inside me. I did my best to shield my children from it, but soon realized they were part of the source.

  My world tilted on its axis for a brief and horrid second as I realized I’d passed on my dark magic to the lives inside me. It sickened me. My children were going to have to fight the very same fight I had to deal with.

  My rage at Marge increased and my hatred for Bermangooglejackhole consumed me. If my son was born with horns, I was going to poop a watermelon.

  “It’s okay Mommy,” a little voice inside my head promised.

  “You use dark against dark to protect the light,” the other voice whispered.

  Oh my Goddess. I was having a conversation with Lucky and Charm. There were a million things I wanted to say, but time was ticking and the heinous warlock was observing me closely.

  “You’re not dark?” I asked them, keeping my face neutral and staring hard at Bermangooglecrap.

  “Only a little,” my baby girl assured me. “The Goddess gave us this gift so we can make the world better.”

  “It is only a small part of who we will be,” my son said. “We’re mostly love, because we were created in love.”

  “Can I ask a weird question?” I inquired.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you guys going to come out speaking full sentences? Cause that’s a little weird. Not that I wouldn’t be okay with it, but a little forewarning might be nice for your dad.”

  “We will be typical babies—kind of,” my boy said with an adorable giggle.

  Hmmmm… so many questions and so little time.

  “Can you guys hold off on your first entrance until I’m done here?” I asked, deciding not to probe into the kind of comment right now. If my boy had horns I would love him anyway.

  “Yep! Maybe you should get back to business. The bad guy seems to be losing patience.”

  “I’m on it,” I told them. “You two just hang tight. Mommy can handle Bermangoogleshitforbrains.”

  “Can we give you a piece of information that might be helpful?” my little boy asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Bermangooglebutthead is Sassy’s father.”

  “You’re shitting me,” I gasped.

  “Nope not yet. Baba Yaga told us that. Didn’t know why, but now we do.”

  “Getting bored here,” Bermangoogleshitz said with an eye roll.

  “Sorry about that,” I replied, searching his face and trying to find a resemblance to my idiot best friend. Thankfully there was none. He was one ugly motherhumper.

  “We might have a little problem here,” I said, developing my plan as I spoke.

  So much for not winging it.

  “You got through the wrinkle on a technicality. The ward was broken by me—not Marge. So if you take anything, you’re breaking the seven hundredth magical commandment.”

  I felt Marge and Carol’s eyes boring into the back of my head, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I was fairly certain I heard Marge stifle a giggle. I knew I was pulling a doozy out of my rear end, but if I could avoid a smackdown that I might not win, we’d all be better off.

  “Like I would care about the seven hundredth magical commandment?” he snarled as slithery black serpents appeared around his feet. He walked toward the remains of the house and produced a glass vial in his hand. His smile was vicious and the darkness inside me begged to come out and play.

  “You’re making a mistake, jack-hole,” I said pleasantly with a friendly wave.

  My tone stopped him and he turned back to me and laughed. “You’re nothing—not good enough and definitely not evil enough. I’m taking the potion. Your choice is to stop me or not. But I will promise you, little pregnant witch, it will not be pleasant for you or your children if you try.”

  “The seven hundredth commandment bars you from ever seeing your daughter.”

  He stared at me like I’d grown horns and I was almost sure that a heart wrenching sadness washed over his features for a split second. Did the evil bastard have feelings? Doubtful… probably gas.

  “Did you even know you had one? Probably not—smelly deadbeat dads with horns and pet snakes usually suck. But anyhoo, it states clearly that if you break a pentagramius de jure merde de novo rule from the book of ancient spells—you forfeit all magically legal claims to any heir you might have unfortunately sired. You see, Bermangoogledork, I might just know who she is. You certainly don’t deserve her, but if you take the potion, you will NEVER have the chance know her at all. I’ll kill her to make sure of it,” I ground out, lying through my teeth about the killing part. The thought of my killing Sassy was so ludicrous I almost laughed, but bit it back with effort. However, if I was going to fight dark with dark, that was as evil as you could get.

  “Did you say shit in French?” Bermangoogleshitz questioned, mightily confused.

  “I most certainly did not, you crotch jockey.”

  “I believe you did.”

  “Maybe you’re just smelling your upper lip,” I snapped. Did I say shit in French? I might have. Stringing bogus lawyerly sounding words together was difficult.

  His response was a laugh—oily, ugly and pure evil.

  I wanted to smite his ass straight to hell
for threatening my babies, and I wanted to hurt him badly for being Sassy’s father. He could threaten me till the cows came home, but he was treading on dangerously thin ice speaking about my children.

  Assholes like him didn’t deserve to be anyone’s father. Honestly, I hoped I had said shit. It was fitting since he was a piece of it.

  His roar hurt my eardrums and echoed through my head. “I call bullshit on all of that. I’ve never heard of the book of ancient spells. You’re making all of this up, witch.”

  His stance was frightening, but I caught the quick glimpse of something that looked like hope in his beady eyes. Watching him war with himself was disconcerting. I worried that I’d gone too far so I let my dark magic roam free inside me. If I had to take him out, I was going to go out fighting with all I had.

  “Possibly,” I agreed with a shrug that I prayed appeared casual. “But are you sure I’m making it up?”

  I heard Baba Yaga’s quick intake of breath behind me. Right then it dawned on me that I was the only one present who could take Bermangoogleshitz on. Dark had to fight dark. Right now, I was very dark and very scared that the bastard would call my partial bluff.

  Fighting Bermangoogleshitz was not a sure win—not even close.

  He glanced down at the vial in his hands and a rueful smile pulled at his thin lips. The horrid looking man gazed at me long and hard. I stood my ground and glared back. My instinct was to run like hell, but far too much was at stake. After what felt like an eternity, he laughed—and again it wasn’t pretty.

  Dropping the vial to the ground, he crushed the glass beneath his foot. The sound of breaking glass was sickeningly ominous—just like the man. His snakes slithered up his body and hissed at me menacingly. Bermangoogleshitz was a horror movie come to life. Truth be told, I had no intention of bringing him into Sassy’s life. She drove me bonkers, but I secretly adored her, and would bust down on anyone who meant her harm.

  “If I find out you’re lying, I will come back to you when you least expect it, and destroy everything you love. Are we clear?” he asked so calmly I almost turned and ran.

 

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